#imagine being at the doc and not having anything to read :')
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💬🩵
“Oh, Gia.”
The voice flicked Gia’s attention from the rows of beakers they’d been sorting over their table to Riddle, mild surprise raising his eyebrows. Gia had come to class early in order to score a table and wasn’t expecting anyone to come by for at least another five minutes— though if there were anyone else who would want to be in the first class of the first semester earlier than they had to, it would be Riddle.
“This is the junior class.” He said, “Did you misread your schedule?”
Gia gave the barest shake of their head and as they did so, pulled the paper from their bag and passed it over to Riddle’s already waiting hand. “I’m taking this class.”
They watched his face pinch as he skimmed across it and watched the lines deepen when he read it again. “This…must be a mistake on part of the school. You should go to the Headmage to have this fixed and get you to your proper lessons...”
Had this been anyone else…Gia would’ve been offended. Knowing Riddle didn’t mean anything by it and was just trying to get things moving like they were supposed to helped with that.
Sorta.
“…I asked to be here.”
“Pardon?”
“This is my class.”
Riddle blinked as if Gia had sneezed in his face. “You…You asked to be here?”
Gia nodded, took their schedule back and went on setting up their table.
“Wha—?“ Riddle stood there, totally stunned. “How is that possible? You jumped classes? I’ve never heard of that. Where is that written?”
Gia shrugged then asked, “Wanna sit with me?”
Riddle made a sputtering noise— which Gia guessed was at their initial response and not their question because he moved around the table to plop onto the other seat. “I wasn’t aware you could skip like that. I wasn’t told. Why…I could’ve been taking this very class as a freshman had I known!”
“You never asked.”
Riddle was pouting, staring off at nothing in particular until the statement replaced the look with an expression of realization. “No, I…I didn’t. I’d taken the title as housewarden because the rules said it was possible, but it never occurred to me to…simply ask if I could take higher classes.”
He turned to Gia, “What made you question that?”
Another shrug, “I could.”
“The audacity.” The words came out with a soft huff of amusement, “…Or the imagination, perhaps?”
Riddle sighed, “Maybe it was for the best on my part. If the basic act of asking for other options was beyond my reach, then perhaps I wasn’t the right fit just yet.”
“Mm…It worked out.”
“How do you figure?”
One last shrug, “We’re both here.”
The vague regret that’d settled over Riddle’s features lifted as he chuckled, “Oh…yes. Yes, you have a point there.”
He adjusted himself in his seat— straight, poised and nothing like the half-hunched pillbug imitation Gia favored— and clasped his hands over the table, “Class hasn’t even started and already I’ve learned something new. I’d say that’s a favorable start to the semester.”
The first bell chimed throughout the school. Though nothing in the room changed, there was a shift in the air probably caused by a unanimous groan from the rest of the student body.
“Now, Gia.” Riddle smiled at them, “Let’s see what else you have for us this year.”
—
(technically cheating i guess since i’ve actually had this squirreled away in my docs for months, but i figured why not. this takes place in the beginning of sophomore year. i liked the idea of gia asking to be put in the junior alchemy classes because they’re ambitious as all hell and they DO get in because they prove they’re able to.
i’d also been thinking about their friendship with riddle a lot at the time. i’ll get into it in another ask, but while gia has a friendly acquaintanceship with riddle throughout freshman year following the events of book 1, they become solid friends in the following year after trey and cater leave for their senior internship. this leaves riddle on the lonely side until he ends up being absorbed into the original heartshackle crew.
it’s also worth noting that the last person to walk through those classroom doors is none other than floyd leech. godspeed my friends.)
tag list: @cyanide-latte @inmateofthemind @simons-twsted-children @tixdixl @blithesharem @thehollowwriter
@jovieinramshackle @theleechyskrunkly @skriblee-ksk @boopshoops @the-trinket-witch (lmk if you wanna be added)
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#litterally just#this#ao3#archive of our own#fanfiction#litterally every fandom I am in#but mostly#bnha#supernatural#mob psycho 100#theres a lot in the#tmnt#fandom but#imagine being at the doc and not having anything to read :')#complaining on the highest snobbiest level possible <3
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Y'all I'm so desperate at this point oh my god
please please please, if y'all got any Heatwave x Readers, pls reply to this with links
#why not write them yourself?#heatwave x reader#i shit you not ive spent the last 3 fucking hours googling and searching for any heatwave x readers that are either new or ones i haven't#read yet. and my search was fruitless 😔#and before yall say anything like i am being strangled by writer's block. I WOULD DO IT BUT MY MOTIVATION IS#ASS RN AND IM SCREAMING#i am on my knees begging. i need to satisfy my desire to read any heatwave x reader that i haven't seen yet#the lack of Heatwave x readers saddens me sm.#AND WHAT PISSED ME OFF DURING MY SEARCH WAS I KEPT FINDING FICS THAT WERENT EVEN TFRB RELATED#like yeah heatwave is a real thing but I FUCKING TYPED NOT WHATEVER THE TROPE IS#FOR A HEATWAVE TO BE EVEN LIKE A MAJOR FANFIC TROPE THING OR WHATEVER THE HELL ITS CALLED#im ao tired im aorry if this doesn't make any sense#i wish there was a way to directly copy and paste the scenarios i imagine from my mind to a google doc#bc good fucking damn i would have so many fics n shit JUST of Heatwave x Readers alone#im so tired oh my god#i need to sleep#going to sleep after posting this#sorry not sorry for rambling in the tags
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reading recs
received an anon the other day that requested fic recs of all ratings, here's a big list of some of my favorites! definitely not exhaustive, definitely forgot people, and i am so sorry in advance for that. please mind the tags on these fics.
SNAFU by @adnauseum11
I've posted about SNAFU before. This is one of my comfort series. Excellent characterization of a retired John Price, navigating a relationship with one of his oldest friends.
Heavy Weighs the Crown by @sentientcave
Newer series, very yummy so far. I love Charlie's characterization of the 141 in this universe, and their writing is delectable.
Rugby AU by @sentientcave
Another banger from Charlie. Reader Ripper is also yummy. Something to snack on. To quote: "I don't know anything about Rugby tbh this is just vibes and thots. Something somethin elaborate rituals."
Nobody by @391780
My gateway fic into Nikto. Without giving anything away, every chapter sends me into a short spiral. The most recent chapters have done heinous (affectionate) things to my brain.
Ursa Major by @the-californicationist
Have you ever been to Alaska? Ever wanted to visit? Honestly, read this fic and let Cali transport you there. Her ability to set the scene and bring it to life is un-fucking-matched. Doc (Reader) is a smart, confident reader-insert that feels like a real person.
Binders and Boyfriends by @pfhwrittes
Trans 141 and Trans Reader supremacy. Another comfort series from the wonderful Parker. Everything listed here is wonderful, but I have a major soft spot for P's Gaz-centric works.
Housemate!Gaz by @pfhwrittes
First, in this house, we hate Reader's roommate. Second, we are Widget fans. Third, could you fucking imagine opening the door and your new roommate was Kyle motherfucking Garrick? I'd faint.
Call of The Jurassic by @stuffireadandenjoy
Another newer series that put me on the edge of my seat. When I first saw that Tats was giving us my favorite fellas and putting them in Jurassic Park, ooooooh, I knew we were going to be spoiled rotten.
Wrong Number Right Day by @stuffireadandenjoy
"Kyle gets a wrong number text but decides to be a little generous that day." Reader's living the dream. Text Kyle Garrick and get cash money for rent? Very excited for more of this.
Price of Pegging by @gemmahale
Pegging and John Price. I could stop there, but I won't. Gemma nails the depiction of a submissive Captain Price. She also captures the dynamic of a couple trying something new extremely well, that gave me some fluffy feelings.
All of Gemma’s WIPs by @gemmahale
I've had the absolute privilege to read some previews of Gemma's work and the WORK and the DETAIL and the CHARACTERS are chef's kiss. Delicious. It's so difficult to pick just one. I love the Feywilds. Useful Girl. Call of the Wild. Do yourself a favor and spend some time in the tags.
Offer Me His Hunger by @kaadaaan
Something about a 141-er and a single mom that's gonna do it for me every time. In Offer Me His Hunger, it's Johnny, and Reader has no idea what she's in for. Jesus Christ, Kadan writes one of my favorite Johnnys, and really nails that obsessive and calculating streak.
The Space in Between by @391780
You will laugh, you will cry, you will love and hate mafia boss!John Price. Reader crosses paths with John and the 141, and gets caught in their wake. Early writes some of the best Reader characters of all time, and this one's no different. This story will get under your skin so fast, in the best way.
The Arrangement by @391780
Speaking of Early, this is THE gateway drug to her work, in my humble opinion. One of the first COD fics I ever read and converted me into being a Price girlie. Sugar Daddy Price x a cute, smart, and fucking funny Reader. Also one of my favorite characterizations of Simon of all time.
Club 141 by @greatstormcat
BDSM and the 141 make a Sy very happy. Reader starts off with a fake ass dom and is quickly properly introduced to BDSM culture with the fellas. Really solid group dynamics. Make sure you read that Price x Ghost post for a good fucking time.
Lamb to the Slaughter by @ohbo-ohno
Probably one of my favorite Ghoap fics of all time. The way my jaw was on the floor for the majority of this should've sent me to the emergency room. It's brutal, it's horrifying, and fuck me running, I loved it, start to finish.
The Pit by @peachesofteal
First, the nightmare of getting into an accident in the winter. Second, having Ghost and Soap find you. Oh boy, The Pit is peak Ghoap manipulation. When I got to the end, I just sat in silence. Stunned. It was amazing.
Eyes Wide, Tongue Tied by tippytulip (if you're on here, pls lmk!)
Another early COD fic for me. A thrill ride with a whip-smart Reader AND it's set in the Midwest. Those are two ways into my heart. The relationship between Reader and Price isn't an easy one, and he gives her a dozen and a half reasons to dislike him. Another ride of a fic, with great action scenes and group dynamics.
Trapper, Keeper by @tinypandacakes
A König fic that makes me screech no less than ten times per chapter. Panda writes a fucking scary König and it blows my mind. So much of it is subtle and manipulative, with few outright (so far, it's ongoing!) examples. I get a knot in my stomach every time I read and I LOVE IT.
DOG by Danceofthesevenveils
Another König fic that features a pathetic loser König, who is also one of the scariest motherfuckers I've ever read. The use of text messages underscores the creepy vibes, and a great vehicle for the Reader x König dynamic early on.
Desire Paths by @ceilidho
Manipulative best friend Johnny, you are iconic to me. Ceilidh writes some of the best nasty Johnny fic out there, but Desire Paths has my heart. Another ending that had me gasping.
Take Me Home, Country Road by @ceilidho
Cowboy Price, take me awayyyyyy. A fantastic Western AU focused on a Reader with a secret and a Sheriff Price that'll make you sit up straighter. Ceilidh captures John's voice so clearly, I can hear it when I read. That porch scene is seared into my brain in the best way.
Tender is the Flesh by @crashtestbunny
Do you like scary Simon? Do you like feeling unsettling and turned on? *slams table* Do I have the fic for you! Connie's butcher!Simon makes my blood run both hot and cold. "Oh she’s a stunner." lives in my head rent free. Also the apron tie bit.
Pornstar!AU by @shotmrmiller
Warning, if you don't smoke, you might start after reading Toni's porn AU. I love this depiction of Ghost, his control and his care. AND there's a threesome bit with Ghost x Reader x Price. It's what dreams are made of.
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vampire!ellie
synopsis: you met ellie in your university’s ancient library, you were just trying to study and ellie couldn’t help but talk to you. it drove her crazy, the scent of your blood. usually, she didn’t even notice the scent on others. she was so used to it that it didn’t bother her anymore. but you were different, sweeter.
cw: kinda like a mix between tlou and twilight, mentions of witchcraft and hanging, vampire!abby being a ladykiller literally, papa vampire!joel, mama vampire!tess, newlyweds vampire!jesse and dina, dina’s transformation, lotsssss of backstory like i seriously couldn’t stop myself from yapping. not proofread sorry :((((((
a/n: i’m definitely gonna make a series out of this. sorry if this is wayyy too long but i have a special place in my heart for vamp!ellie and her sweet vampire family. ok that’s all ily thanks for reading.
wc: 2.2k
you shouldn’t be walking alone at night, really. campus was a sketchy place. a plethora of bad things could happen. you could get kidnapped, jumped, pickpocketed, or, hell, even bitten by a vampire.
the library had the same scent it always did. it smelled like dust and paper. in all honesty, you didn’t prefer it here. although it was beautiful, tall windows lined with stained glass, large bookshelves with every book you’d ever want, every word you could imagine and more, it was just so eerie. something bad was bound to happen here.
anyways, you settled down at the table in the corner. the one farthest away from anyone else. you’d rather be at home right now, studying in bed. it’s only because your roommate invited her stupid boyfriend over that you ended up here. it’s for the better anyway, though, because in bed you wouldn’t get anything done. you’d be too distracted.
you had your priorities written on your palm, the pen now smudged, making it barely readable. writing on your palm was easier, more convenient than a post-it note. but you wrote it down on paper anyways, incase you sweated more of it off before you finished. it wasn’t likely you would, though. the library was freezing, especially in the winter.
the clack of your fingers typing in your laptop password was the only thing to be heard. everyone else was dead silent. this was probably the only thing you liked about the library, everybody agreed on an unspoken rule, make the least amount of noise possible. you got started with completing your essay after shuffling your playlist, determined to finish by the end of the night.
that’s when she saw you.
or, smelled you? your scent was so strong, it hit ellie hard. her vision went dark and splotchy, and she had to grip onto the table for support. her pearly white hands making a dent in the table with how hard she was holding.
you had to be her next meal. she had to find some way to get you alone and suck your veins dry. it scared her, the thoughts she was having. her intentions weren’t to murder you, but she was starving now. you had unknowingly gotten her high on your scent.
she didn’t even know where you were. were you outside? down the hall? in the library? fuck, right next to her? her head was hurting now, really, really badly. but she needed you even worse.
picking up a random book, she used the most brainpower she could to sniff you out. then, she really saw you. headphones in your ears, your hands typing away at something that won’t even matter soon. soon, she’ll have your body in her arms, hopefully in the comfort of her own home. your neck dripping a puddle on the floor as she relentlessly drank from you, your skin growing cold and your lips turning purple.
her docs made silent footsteps across the floor as she walked toward you. this was something ellie learned to master, silence. especially when she went into hunting mode. nobody looked at her as she expertly dodged the creaks in the old wooden floor. nobody saw her coming. especially you. you never saw ellie williams coming.
“hey, is it okay if i sit here?”
“….sorry, what was that?” you scrambled to pause your music.
“can i sit here?”
“oh. yeah, sure. go ahead.”
you went back to typing, not continuing your music incase she wanted to talk. you really hoped she didn’t. you needed to finish your essay. and you weren’t much of a people person either.
“what are you writing?” she asked.
“just an essay, nothing interesting.”
“oh, cool.”
she started reading the book she picked up before sniffing you out. she didn’t bother to look at the title. or read any of the words either. really, she was just staring at it, her mind racing. she needed to come up with something interesting, something to make you like her.
while she stared at the words, you couldn’t help but stare at her. your fingers came to a complete stop as you admired this stranger across from you. she didn’t even introduce herself, how strange. her hair was a dark brown, her eyes black. her face was incredibly smooth. skin paler than ever, she looked as if she was a marble statue, like she belonged in a museum.
and she was reading twilight, of all books. although, you liked the book, it seemed ironic for her, like she was too mature for it. this beautiful stranger was sitting across from you, her eyebrows pulled together in frustration while she chewed on the inside of her cheek. she seemed furious at something, but at the same time, hard to read.
you were almost scared of her, but intrigued above all else.
“do you like that book?” you asked.
“twilight? yeah. it’s okay. i’ve read it a few times.”
“hmm. it’s a classic.”
“it’s not bad. but i’ve read a lot of books. this one doesn’t come close to the others.”
“so you read a lot? how come i’ve never seen you before?”
“i’m usually hiding. i don’t prefer to engage with others if i can help it.”
“yeah, that explains it.”
she got lucky. thank god, if there even is one, that she grabbed a book you knew about. that you started a conversation with her. she thought it was the most stupid book on earth. it was filth, pure mormon fanfiction. and it was completely wrong.
“why are you here so late? it’s almost midnight.” you asked.
“i could ask you the same question.” she responded.
“i have a lot of work i’ve been procrastinating on. if i could choose, i’d be at home. but my roommate’s boyfriend is there and i can’t stand being in the same building as them.”
“i don’t really know why i’m here. i just like to meet new people i guess.”
“i thought you didn’t like talking to people.”
“that’s different. you’re different.”
“how so? you don’t know who i am, and i don’t even know your name.”
she stared at you blankly. you had her trapped. she suddenly realized that maybe you were harder to get than she expected. maybe you wanted to play this game.
“i’m ellie. it’s short for elizabeth but i hate that name. it’s too common, i’m sick of hearing it.”
“elizabeth is beautiful.”
“thanks. you sound like my parents.”
lie. she didn’t know her parents anymore. they had abandoned her hundreds of years ago after suspecting she was a witch because she refused to get married to a man at only seventeen. after a few years, she was hung.
it wasn’t until her new father, joel, took up an investigation of what happened to poor elizabeth. he ended up traveling to their old village and finding her grave after tracing her obituary back to a newspaper published in 1579.
shed been dead for years. joel was the one who brought her back to life. he injected his venom into her long rotten arms and took her in for the seven years it took for her to come back fully. he saved her. he taught her how to walk, how to speak, how to hunt. joel miller was her new father.
joel used to be a police officer. in 1712, he ran into a poor woman, bleeding and begging for his help. claiming that her husband had turned to satan and was now possessed. the woman had been bitten, she eventually would turn into ellie’s mother, tess. joel got bitten too. all three of them spent the next years as newborns in that small cabin, feasting on whoever was unfortunate enough to wander by.
the woman’s husband didn’t survive. he was caught by a clan of christians and burned alive, leaving just joel and tess, who couldn’t help but fall in love. they adopted more kids before and after ellie too.
abigail was the first. she was living alone in the appalachian mountains, feasting on whoever wandered after sundown. leading poor girls, desperate for a good time, into her bed and then eating them whole. abigail often hung out at lesbian bars. the girls who went home with her never came back. a bartender joked with her about this once, the bartender didn’t come back, either.
joel heard about abigail through the only other coven that lived in washington. they said she was a monster, a relentless murderer trapped in a goddesses body. that she could hold the whole world on her shoulders but couldn’t refrain from eating innocent girls who were cheating on their husbands.
abby and ellie were never really good friends, but they tried. abby preferred to keep to herself. usually either reading or climbing a mountain with her bare hands. and she refused to find a long-term lover. ellie was almost the opposite. she preferred more modern things, like making music and fast cars. and she loved to flirt with girls.
jesse came after ellie. he was born more recently, in 1878. he was dying of a disease nobody knew about. they didn’t have the right knowledge or technology to save him, so they quarantined him in a hospital room until he died. he didn’t, though. joel saved his life. the hospital staff were horrified after seeing the blood stained floor, the splatters over the walls, and more importantly, the fact that jesse’s body was nowhere to be found.
jesse had a wife now, named dina. she met him in 1983 at a prestigious fashion school. jesse had already been to tons of colleges. neither of them aged. they never changed. they were all trapped. after studying medicine, law, physics, engineering, and marketing, he wanted a change.
that’s when he met dina. she was a beautiful woman, deep tan skin, dark eyes, long black hair and eyelashes. and she had such a knack for fashion. jesse was in love, it took him a long while before he came clean to dina about who he was. she was so in love with him too, she didn’t mind it, and she certainly wasn’t scared. dina was never scared of anything.
so they got married. and the night after their wedding, they flew to a private island joel owned for their “honeymoon”. aka, dina’s transformation. they were gone for almost three years. jesse kept a journal of everything that happened to her.
july 12, 1989. i did it. i held her so gently in my arms and sank my teeth into her neck. she was screaming, i know she was in pain, but she’ll never admit it. before she fell asleep, i drank a few of her tears and then closed her eyes. she’ll be twenty six for the rest of her life, until the earth stops spinning. i hope she can forgive me.
december 31, 1989. joel, i got your letter. she’s been doing okay. i can’t stop looking at her, her perfect curves and her deep brown hair. i think it was for the better that i took her dress off before we started, she designed it, it was so beautiful. i know she’d get upset about the red staining the expensive white satin. it’s still here, waiting for her. the year is about to end, we still have quite a few months until she awakes. i’m scared. not of her, of myself. am i a murderer? did i, a cold-blooded demon, destroy a perfect, innocent life? will she remember me?
august 27, 1990. it’s been over a year. nothing, but i know it’s coming. i’ve been holding her head on my lap, stroking her hair. i haven’t moved from this position in three months. she is so beautiful. i redressed her in the outfit she designed for this occasion, it suits her well. a part of me regrets this decision. i wish i could grow old with her, maybe have kids someday. sit on the porch while or grandchildren play in the yard. her eyes wrinkling with the smile she always flashes me. this will never happen. it’s just a dream.
november 16, 1990. she is awake. so much screaming. she’s in pain. won’t even look at me. she is thirsty. will bring her some bird blood to quench her thirst.
november 21, 1990. she only sits and stares at a wall, rocking back and forth. her eyes are white now. don’t know if she is okay. or if she will survive. her throat burns. if she goes, i go.
february, 1991. don’t know what day it is, she has calmed down. she didn’t remember anything at first. not me, not her name, nothing. she remembers now, though. hopefully we can come home this year. i still don’t know if i trust her enough around people. if she is caught, she’ll be burned. if she goes, i go.
may 18, 1991. traveled to a near by island. i taught her how to swim, she loves it. she’s so surprised that she can hold her breath infinitely. she is so beautiful, it’s like falling in love with her all over again. there were people at the island, it was a small village. they were kind, but we had to leave early. i don’t want to push her limits, but she did exceptionally well.
october 4, 1991. on our way home. starting this life forever with her. i hope she can forgive me.
#ellie williams#ellie williams tlou2#ellie williams x reader#ellie williams tlou#ellie x fem reader#ellie x reader#ellie the last of us#abby anderson#abby the last of us#abby tlou#joel miller#joel tlou#joel the last of us#tess servopoulos#tess tlou#jesse tlou#dina the last of us#dina tlou#the last of us#lesbian
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[spoilers about lone trail]
eh. I think it's entirely possible to read the mumudoc scenes as romantic, but I interpreted them through a connection naturally formed by both of them being like the last vestiges of their respective races trying to survive on a highly hostile land. it's not a stretch to imagine that it's what the doctor sees, at least. some of mumu's people are alive but when she finds them she realizes that they're so different that they might as well be alien to her, and you know how it is with the doc and the sarcophagi. where doctor's people have been dying the slowest death possible for eons inside. alive, but never to wake up
mumu's charming, flighty and a liar. she tries to be maximum lovable and innocent in every situation. I didn't really think the game was waifubaiting me. I just thought it was sad. and I'm not like, a big mumu enjoyer or anything
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How to be a Dirtbag Fic Writer
I got to do some talking about writing today and I couldn’t stop thinking about it so here are my full thoughts on the matter of being a dirtbag fic writer.
Being the disorganized thoughts of someone two and a half decades into the beautiful mess that is writing fanfic (and a few non-fanfic things too).
What is a dirtbag fic writer?
I am talking about someone who is not cleaning up anything. We show up filthy, fresh out of rooting around in the garden of our imaginations. We probably smell a little from work. We will hand you our hard grown fruits, but we have not washed them and we carried them in the bottom upturned parts of our t-shirts. The fruit is a little bruised. It’s not cut up or put in a bowl yet. But we got it in the house! It’s here. Someone can eat it.
Why dirtbag it? Because the fruit gets in the house. If you’re hemming and hawing, if the idea you want to do seems to be big or you want it perfect and shiny. If you’re imagining a ten thousand step process, so you’re not taking the first step? Dirtbag it.
How do I dirtbag?
That’s the best part. You just write. Sit down. One word after the other. No outline, no plan, no destination. No thought of editing. Just word vomit. Every word is a good word. It’a word that wasn’t there before. Grammar sucks? Who cares. Can’t think of the perfect word? Fuck it, put in the simplest version of what you mean.
Write the idea that you love. The one thing you want to say. Has it been done 3000000 times? WHO CARES human history is long, every idea has been done, probably more than twice. YOU have never written it before. It’s your grubby potato that you clawed out of the ground and guess what someone can still make it into delicious french fries.
Now here’s the critical part. Write as much as you can squeeze out of your brain. One word in front of the other.
And then I challenge you this: at most, read it over once and then put it into the world. Just as it is. AND THIS IS IMPORTANT: DO IT WITHOUT APOLOGY OR CAVEAT. I challenge you, beautiful dirtbag to not pre-emptively apologize. Do not make your work lesser. THAT IS YOUR POTATO! It has eyes and roots and dirt clinging to it because that is what happens. We are dirtbagging it today. Hell really confused people at do #dirtbagwriter on it.
Dirtbag writes id, base, lizard brain. Dig in the fertile garden of your imagination. What is the story you tell yourself before you fall asleep? What’s your anxiety this week? Your fantasy? What is going well? What do you wish things looked like? Who is the feral imaginary character you’ve been crafting to take your frustrations and joys out on?
But, VEE, I wish to have an editor and an outline, use a cool software like scrivener instead of retching up onto a google doc and making it look NICE and PRETTY!
COOL! DO THAT THEN! IF YOU’RE ACTUALLY DOING IT! You should have a process! That’s cool and healthy and necessary for sustainable writing. But if you’re not writing because all of that seems too much? THEN DON’T.
Did you know fic is free? That we do this from love? From sheer desire? For the love of the game? If you have a process, and the words are flowing, amazing, I love that for you, you don’t need this essay. If you don’t, let us continue.
What does dirtbag writing look like?
It’s messy. It’s a little raw and tatty around the edges sometimes. It’s weird. It’s someone else’s first draft. Maybe it winds up being your first draft, Idek, that’s your business.
It’s jokes that make YOU laugh. It’s drama that would make YOU cry if you read it. You are your first commenter. You are your first audience (and possibly continuing pleasure! If you don’t go back and reread your own work sometimes, you might be missing out on one of your favorite authors cause you wrote it for you! Wait until you’re not so close to it. Years sometimes. Then hey, maybe some of this is pretty dang good actually.)
It has mistakes.
Dirtbags make mistakes, but dirtbags have published pieces. They have things other people can read out there.
What if I don’t get good feedback?
Look, the most likely outcome of any new, untried fic writer (and even established writers trying something new-ish) is that you get no feedback. That’s real. Silence. It’s eerie, it’s terrible, it sucks. I don’t want to pretend it doesn’t. But nothing is not negative. It’s a big fic-y ocean out there and we are all wee itty-bitty-sometimes-with-titty fishes.
You should still do it all over again. And again. And again. You get better at writing by writing. You just do. Nothing else replaces it. If your well is dry? Fill it with new things. Go do something new, read a new kind of book, watch a new film, (libraries have so much good shit, you don’t even have to spend money for so many things if you have a library card), just go for a walk in a new direction. Stimulate yourself. Got a cup of something hot and eavesdrop on conversations. Refill yourself with newness.
And hey, speaking of, do you leave comments? Because you get what you give. You can build relationships with people by commenting and that builds community and community means places to get feedback in the end. Comments are gold. They are all we are paid in. Tip your writers with ‘extra kudos’ or ‘this made me laugh’. And hey, when you go back for a re-read so you can tell them your favorite part? Ask yourself how they made that favorite part? What do you like about it? Tone? Metaphor? The structure? Reading teaches us how to write too!
BUT, okay. Sometimes. Sometimes there is actual bad feedback and people suck.
You know the best part about being a dirtbag? Unrepentant block, delete, goodbye. You don’t own anyone with a shitty opinion any of your precious time on this earth. You did it for free, you gave them your dirty, but still delicious fruit and they went ‘ew, this is a dirty strawberry, how could you not make a clean tomato?” Because you didn’t plant fucking tomatoes, did you? Don’t fight, don’t engage. Block. Delete. Goodbye.
If someone in person, looked you in the eye when you brought them a plate of food to share at a party and they said “Why didn’t you bring me MY favorite? This isn’t cooked well at all.” You would probably write up a Reddit AiTA question about it just to hear five thousand people say they were an asshole. Fic is no different
And hey, when you dirtbag it? You know you did. It’s not your most cleaned up perfect version. So who cares what they think? You might make it more shiny and polished next time! You might NOT.
Ok, but what if I don’t finish it?
Fuck it, post it anyway.
What if it’s bad?
Fuck it, post it anyway.
What if it doesn’t make sense?
That’s ART, baby. Fuck it, post it anyway.
What if what I want to write doesn’t work with current fandom norms?
Then someone out there probably needs it! And what the hell is this? The western canon? FUCK IT POST IT ANYWAY*
*Basic human decency is not a ‘fandom norm’. Don’t be racist, sexist, ableist, fat shaming, classist or shitty about anyone's identity on main, okay? Dirtbag writers are KIND first and foremost. Someone saying you are stepping into shit about their identity is not the same as unsolicited crappy feedback about pairings. In the immortal words of Kurt Vonnegut: "God damn it, you've got to be kind.”
You’re being very flippant about something that’s scary.
I know. I know I am. I know it can be scary. But no risk, no reward and hell, you aren’t using your goddamn legal name on the internet are you? (please for the love of fuck do not be using your legal name to write fic) You’ve got on a mask. You’re a superhero. With dirt on your cape.
That niche thing that you think no one cares about? Guaranteed you will find someone else in the world who wants it. Maybe they won’t find it right away. Maybe they will be too shy to comment or even hit a button. But your dirty potato will stick with them. They will make french fries in their head.
You have an audience. But they can’t find you if you have nothing out there.
Go forth. Make.
You have some errors in this essay.
PROBABLY CAUSE I DIRTBAGGED IT. But I picked this strawberry for you out of my brain, so I hope you run it under some cold water and find the good bits and have a nice snack. Or throw it away. Or use it to plant more strawberries (I know that’s not how strawberries work, metaphors break when stretched).
#dirtbagwriter
Go forth and MAKE
#writing#i'm not an expert#I just have been doing this a long time#and these are my feels#please feel free to throw away this strawberry
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About Powder Blue
This is going to be long. There are going to be discussions of suicide and trauma. This is going to be a bit of a jumbled mess because I can't tell a linear story to save my life. Don't feel like you need to read this, now or ever.
If you're wondering what the issues with PB were, and looking for what's next, read the indented text and skip the rest if you want!
I've had a bit of a...tumultuous relationship with the OFMD fandom. I've made close friends and lost them, made even closer friends who've very patiently reminded me of my worth when I needed that. I'm at a point where I'm still struggling, but I'm getting better. I'm still working on not being afraid. It's a bit of an uphill battle, but I'm still pushing my little boulder. I'm not alone this time, which is nice.
I entered the fandom as a nobody. I had almost 50 fics on AO3 and two had mildly popped off while I wasn't looking, but I wasn't really known for anything. I was a fandom ghost, posting my little fanfics and sharing them with the world because I just enjoyed the characters so much. Like a lot of people, I dreamed of being known for something. I thought that'd be neat.
I'm still in a state of shock and confusion that I've written anything in the past 2 years that people remember and even love. It's weird to be in a place where I never imagined myself to be. I can't stress enough how much I did not write explicit fic before this fandom; in high school, I would've welcomed a porn ban. I was afraid of my own sexuality, convinced it was some sort of monster I had to control. Convinced I was dirty. To other people my age, I was a prude, naive and childish for not being comfortable with it. So I feel for people who lash out now, who insist that attraction is actually fetishization, that if we set enough rules, maybe if we resist temptation, we'll be saved. I see you, and I feel for you. I personally don't think that's a healthy way to live, but if you'd told me that 2 years ago, I would've cussed you out. It's really a realization you have to come to (or not) on your own terms.
Anyway.
I know it's tacky to talk about your own success but it doesn't feel real. I go back and forth, reading other people's work -- and my god, there's some unbelievable talent in this fandom -- and thinking "shit, why would anyone read anything I've written? My stories are kindergarten finger paintings next to museum masterpieces". I am learning, slowly -- very slowly -- that I can't bully myself into a shape I like better. I'll never abuse myself into the kind of writer I think I want to be.
The first chapter of Powder Blue was written on a random day of the week after work. I was in a server -- the first fandom server I'd properly joined and talked in, watching a convo about how funnyt it would be for Ed to be a middle aged sugar baby -- when I pulled out my laptop and wrote for an hour and then posted that chapter to the server. I hadn't written for five years before OFMD. I had never finished a multi chapter fic. I posted that chapter and went to make dinner, and assumed the Google Docs link would get lost in that channel after a few likes.
That's not what happened.
The next few months were...a lot. My 7 year old Twitter account blew up from about 200 followers to 1000 in a matter of months. I was misinterpreted half a dozen times. Suddenly, people knew who I was and had Opinions. Some of those Opinions were Not Nice. I was told to grow a thick skin and get over it. So I figured my extreme reactions -- physical shaking, intense fear, a spiking heart rate, like I was being chased -- were just me being weak. I thought if I just sucked it up and laughed it off, it'd stop affecting me.
Turns out RSD is real and not an excuse I was using to be a baby, and it literally didn't get better until I was medicated! Wild
(This -- "I'm just overreacting and everyone else is secretly handling it better" -- has been a pretty consistent pattern my entire life, so figuring out I'm actually AuDHD has been mindblowing. If you've been wondering why you're so weak your whole life, I've got some screening tests you might be interested in).
Anyway my point is, a few things happened over the course of 2023 that brought me to a level of emotional pain I've never experienced.
At the start of the year, I was taking a self imposed internet break, after being forced to apologize for a tweet thread about Izzy, where I'd made the mistake of suggesting that fans of his should consider thinking about why they enjoy his character, but to only do this if they wanted to and ignore me if they didn't. This was taken as me being a hypocrite, and accusing Izzy fans of being terrible people. I apologized, vowed to never mention him again, and left Twitter for a month. Around the same time, a few things in a very close friend group went very wrong. I assumed it was entirely my fault for misbehaving, picked myself up, and tried to punish myself into a shape that would be acceptable for other people.
It didn't work.
Since I was now marked as an anti-Izzy bully, I couldn't say anything -- either on Twitter or in private -- that wouldn't be interpreted as me trying to start fights, as me being passive aggressive, as me trying to send covert messages for others to decipher so they could come and grovel for my forgiveness. Some of this is my fault -- it took a long time to learn than my private locked Twitter account isn't a diary. it took even longer for me to learn that maybe the people I was hanging out with weren't my people.
During all of this, I was posting Powder Blue after months of tears, pain, heartbreak, frustration and stress. I still don't understand why people write books for work or FUN. It was the most horrific experience of my life. It was valuable and so rewarding but jesus christ did writing PB take a lot out of me.
So as I felt less connected to my friends, as I was trying to hide how I felt because I thought I didn't deserve to be upset about anything (everything is always my fault, you see, and if I just behaved better, these things wouldn't happen to me), someone came to me and said they'd noticed some issues with Powder Blue. I'll refer to this person as the reader.
I was more than happy to hear them out. And it's true that I made some mistakes. The environment that I published PB in was not the one that I wrote it in. I didn't read any other sugar daddy/sex work fics as I was working on PB. PB was never a reaction to those fics. But because of those stories, which had handled things is harmful ways, there was suddenly a responsibility I'd never expected to have. I've never done sex work, I've just spent a lot of time listening to sex workers and trying to understand the legislation and environment as much as I can as a lay person. And since I don't have a personal experience with sex work, I shared my finished but rough draft with the reader, who did.
The problem, ultimately, is not something I could ever have fixed to their satisfaction. The fic doesn't involve dubious consent on a level that I think warrants an archive warning tag -- I tried to make it explicitly clear that Ed never does anything he doesn't want to, and that he's never coerced. The issue is that the nature of Ed and Stede's relationship is inherently uneven -- Stede is rich, and although he gives Ed money that's his to keep, Ed still isn't as obscenely wealthy as Stede is. Ed is poor and has been for a while. He's good at whatever he chooses to do, but he's struggling. That's a very uncomfortable spot to put Ed in.
I also put Ed through some things that I've personally been through, as a way to work through my feelings and to try and better understand myself. If I was acting like Ed in real life, the reader is right that it would be concerning. But, importantly, Ed's not real. Nothing in this story is happening to a real person. Nothing in this story is an endorsement of any of his behaviours or unhealthy coping mechanisms.
I still believe the reader had good intentions -- the amount of effort they put into coming to me would be utterly bizarre for someone who was just looking to be cruel for no reason. But that also doesn't change the fact that being told I was having a trauma response and needed to stop working on the fic immediately, pushed me into the most suicidal period I've ever experienced.
That's not their fault. I'm sure that wasn't their intention. I've chosen to not try and find out who they are, or try to contact them again to respect their privacy. Some of the things people said to me, publicly dismissing the reader's pain, were so harrowing to read that it made me feel worse for ever writing PB in the first place. They were right to stay anonymous.
I'm sure the reader never meant for me to have such a massive breakdown that I took down the entire fic and left Twitter (and a few friend groups). It's been difficult to understand that just because someone didn't mean to hurt me, doesn't change the fact that I was hurt.
One silver lining is that I did go and find a new therapist. She's great! And she also thinks that how the reader tried to bring things up to me was wrong. As the reader obviously saw, I have a lot of Trauma, so I'm still not entirely convinced that I didn't deserve what happened to me. I'm not angry at them. I appreciate their concern. I just can't do what they asked of me. In the end, Powder Blue was not a story that was right for them. And that's okay.
My point in detailing all of this, is that I stayed quiet for a long time because I didn't think I deserved to tell my part of the story. I was scared that when people said they respected my choice to take down the fic, that they agreed I'd some something impossibly harmful. People trusted my judgement but I didn't trust myself. But people didn't know that I didn't trust myself.
Additionally, reader can't speak on this without revealing themself in some way. I'm terrified that they might read this and say something anyway. My biggest fear is becoming the kind of writer who sees negative criticism and pushes on anyway, or even blocks people who disagree with me. I don't want to hurt anyone the way I've been hurt.
BUT I've been holding onto this for months. I cannot write a perfect fic that will never trigger anyone. I will never write a meaningful story that won't hurt someone, no matter my intentions. There IS a way to admit you fucked up, or a way to listen and disagree, without turning into a raging asshole. I'm struggling to find that line. I'm hoping I'm making the right choice here.
And honestly, I'm just soft. I am so fucking soft. I talk a big game but I am so soft that a single person poking at my trauma caused me to break down so severely that my partner was legitimately afraid for me. I am learning that this softness doesn't mean I should become a crueler person to cope. But it's hard. There are going to be people who see this post and think I'm being a whiny crybaby looking for attention and pity. And I just have to deal with that.
Anyway. All previous chapters of PB will be up soon. Read them or don't. I will do my best to add more detailed trigger warnings. And I would personally suggest that if you're worried about any of the content in the fic, to run these worries past a friend who's read the fic, because they'll know you better than I ever will. Please don't read Powder Blue if you think it'll harm you. I would rather have fewer readers than triggered ones.
If there's anything I've missed that you think I need to address, know that my inbox is open, that anon is on, and that I'm not in the business of retaliating against people who come to me with an issue, even if they're a dick to me while they're doing it. I'm not going to dismiss someone because they weren't nice to me while they were upset. I'm a bitch but I'm not that kind of bitch.
So. Thank you for waiting for this fic. Thank you for waiting for me. We've got something like 16 chapters to go, and I can't tell you when they'll be up, or if they'll be up soon. But thank you for loving this story. I can't tell you how much that means to me, especially now.
Love,
Scarr
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Malleus Romance HCs
Slow Burning ❤️🔥
Word Count: 304 (it’s very short, I just wrote it in a doc because I love Malleus and I wasn’t writing in Tumblr that day 😭)
CW: Reader is referred to as you, other than that, nothing but fluff! 💚
💚… With Malleus, it's a slow burning romance that develops between the two of you as the two of you grow closer within time. He had never met another person like you before.
💚… Romance is an unfamiliar concept with Malleus, he had never had such feelings before. It was one day that he was talking with Lilia about you, that the old bat realized, this clueless dragon was in love!
💚… Lilia was overjoyed to say the least, his first romance was blooming, but Lilia had to take the time to explain in detail and in a way for Malleus to understand what love even was.
💚… Once Malleus knew, it was all over, and the young fae was now reading on how to court a human. He spent time talking with Lilia, because we all know Lilia’s an old man with a record of romance, and he managed to watch a few movies of some cheesy romcoms, which probably was a mistake, but he ended up kind of enjoying them.
💚… Once he learned, he started to court you; bringing you flowers, going on long strolls with you and talking with you about anything and everything, he wants to know everything about you.
💚… I can imagine study dates being a thing, he seems to know everything, (thanks to Lilia), and he’d be more than thrilled to spend time with you and help you.
💚… When he finally works up the nerve on one of your guys nightly walks, he’ll finally ask for you two to be official and seal the deal with a sweet kiss, right beneath the stars and the moon.
💚… Being with him is like a dream, he will treat you like royalty and you’d never have to worry about a day of feeling cold, hungry, unclean, etc., this man is gonna take care of you.
Hope you guys enjoyed! It’s short and honestly just a blip of random inspo while I was on break lmao.
#sprite writes#fanfic#fanfiction#twst fluff#twst x reader#twst headcanons#malleus draconia#twst malleus#twisted wonderland malleus#malleus x reader#malleus x yuu
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Can I request GP college Emo Wanda x cam girl reader where Wanda jerks off to the videos, then reader holds a contest for one of her viewers to meet up with her and have dinner if they donate the most money and Wanda ends up winning and they go out to dinner and reader teases Wanda the entire time making Wanda frustrated so they have rough but passionate sex in Wanda’s dorm room afterwards. (with praise, daddy kink and scratching [ r to wanda] ;) and face sitting if that’s ok <3
My Girl
Pairings: g!p Wanda Maximoff x reader
Summary: Quite literally the ask just written onto a doc
Word count: 3170
Warnings: daddy kink, smut, belly bulges, face riding, scratching, Wanda has a penis, degrading, praising, kinda public sex, fingering, mentions of free use and cnc
No one is permitted to steal, copy, or reblog my work as their own!!
Wanda huffed as she threw her books down and got out her laptop. Her professor would not stop giving her shit today and she was pissed off. Opening the electronic she locked the door to her dorm and tore off her jeans. She sat back down onto the bed and scrolled onto your account, her favorite. Every week that you posted she’d be the first one on, commenting whenever she could and replaying every video she could. Finding the most recent one she clicked on it, seeing you using a large dildo on your pussy with a butt plug inside of your tight ass.
Pulling out her semi-hard cock she started a slow pace with her hand, her thumb brushing against the tip every time she reached it. “Mm, such a little slut aren’t you? You wanted me to see you, didn’t you? You knew I’d be watching you, you waited for me like the good little girl you are.” She spoke into the empty room. Your moans filled her ears as it brought her closer to the edge, only a few minutes in and she was already about to cum.
“Look at that sweet little pussy, so ready for me. Wish I could fill it up, wish I could just slide right inside of that tight little hole and use you.” She whispered out once again. She’d always imagined you could hear her, she liked to picture it was your hand instead of her own wrapped around her length. You moaning beneath her as she used you for her own pleasure, not caring if you’re overstimulated but just wanting to make herself feel good.
She soon came into her hand as you finished around the large silicone dildo, she knew she could make you feel better than that stupid toy. Groaning, she felt unsatisfied. No matter how much she could finish onto her hand from watching you it always made her realize just how lonely she truly was. If she was being completely honest, she wanted you. She could care less about any of the other girls in her classes, all she wanted and needed was you.
She scrolled through your account some more, trying to see if you posted anything else in the past day. When she saw what you wrote in your bio she gained hope, ‘Whoever donates the most money on the next stream at 2:00 PM on Tuesday will receive a free dinner with me and maybe even a dessert ;)’ it read. She quickly looked up her bank account and realized just how little she had, no wonder why, she was a college student. Although, she did have a job. Texting her boss with a small ‘Will I be able to pick up some extra shifts for a few days?’ Before putting her phone down and doing her schoolwork. The entire day she couldn’t stop thinking about that, her whole week was spent thinking about you and you only.
Tuesday finally came and she prepared herself, saving the perfect amount of money for you. At 2 PM she scrolled onto your account and reloaded until she saw your face. A small smile took over her face when seeing you, you were even more beautiful than she pictured. In your videos she could barely ever see your face but now, now she could see you in your full glory. People already started spitting out cash the second they joined while Wanda was too focused staring at you. Getting out of her trance, she made her first donation of one hundred dollars and you thanked her, causing her to smile at the thought. For the entire two hours Wanda continued giving you her money to stay at the top, which she did. Before the live ended you gave a shout out to her, or to ‘ScarletW01’ as that was her username. She waited for you to text her impatiently and when you finally did, she almost immediately replied. You both fell into a small conversation as you got to know one another better, wanting to make sure she wasn’t a random old creep. She later found out that you lived only six miles from her dorm and you both decided on a restaurant to go to later that week.
She couldn’t stop thinking about it. If she had to go another day waiting she would lose her mind. But the day was finally here, the day where she would take you out to dinner and hopefully woo you enough to spend the night.
“Okay, which looks better, black or red?” She asked her roomate who at this point was most likely sick of hearing her. Agatha sighed and turned her body to look, ditching her notes for what felt like the thirtieth time in the past hour.
“They both look like shit but I guess the red matches you more.” Wanda sighed, aggravated with the womans words. “Agatha, you’re not helping here. I really like this person and I want to impress them so can you please just help me find something? Anything?” Agatha groaned but agreed, walking to her roomates closet and looking for what might look best.
She spent a good five minutes of tossing around clothes before she finally found the one, a red jacket along with a low, black dress that showed cleavage. “Perfect. I know you can’t live without this stupid coat so, here. It will show her that you’re not trying too hard but also that you try hard enough to impress her.” Wanda had no clue what she meant but rolled with it anyway, adding her jewlery and makeup to finish off the look. Brushing her hair a tad bit more she looked herself over in the mirror, trying to find her best angle.
“Okay Wanda, you got this. It’s not difficult, it’s just a date. Just a date, that’s it.” She tried reassuring to herself, still not believing a word she said. When her timer went off she said her goodbyes to Agatha who whished her luck, closing the door behind her as she jogged out of the building.
When she arrived at the restaurant she took a quick glance around and found someone sitting at a double table, it was you. She took a deep breath and walked your way, giving a small tap to your shoulder to gain your attention.
You turned around and were greeted by the sight of probably the most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen. “H-hey, Wanda right? I’m Y/N, which you probably already know, sorry.” You say, catching yourself rambling slightly. You don’t mean to be so nervous, but this woman already had an effect on you. She smiled at your words and quickly took her seat across from you. “Yeah, that’s me. Uh, thank you for this, I kind of haven’t been able to stop thinking about you ever since last week.” That was sort of the truth, she hadn’t stopped thinking about you for what seemed like months now.
You blushed slightly, opening your mouth to say something until you guys’ waiter appeared, asking if you two would need more time or if you’re ready to order. You ordered a small glass of wine while Wanda ordered some lemon water, still not legally being able to drink.
“No alcohol for you, huh?” Wanda laughed lightly before giving a response, “Nope. I’m only twenty so I have to wait a few more months until I can start ordering it at a restaurant.” You nodded in understanding and got back into a conversation. You were shocked at how nice she truly was, when you held the contest you expected some douche who’d just want to get into your pants but Wanda actually seemed interested in you. She listened to every word you said intently and even voiced her own opinions occasionally. This was already your best date you’ve ever had.
When the food was delivered shortly after the drinks, you started your fun. Using your heeled foot lightly rub against her exposed leg. You exaggerated moans when eating your food and noticed her face turning a small shade of red. Going back into small talk, you asked about her family and personal life, as she did with you previously. Your foot continued to stroke her own leg, starting to go higher and higher until you reached her inner thighs. Her breathing was uneasy and she could feel her growing erection in her pants.
“Is something bothering you Wanda?” You asked teasinly, faking a pout as you used your pity voice. She stared at you with pure lust and muttered out a ‘lets go, we’re leaving’ before dragging you out of the place, leaving a one-hundred dollar bill on the table to cover the cost.
“You wanna act like a slut, I’ll treat you like a slut.” She said, pushing you up against her car door and rubbing her hard on against your backside. You let out a whimper when she ran the pads of her fingers over your covered core, tracing your clit lightly as she watched you squirm beneath her.
“Oh you like that? You like when daddy puts her little whore back into place?” The title she gave herself made you even wetter, by now there had to be a small wet spot on your panties.
“Daddy, please not here. People can see.” You whispered out into the cold air. The woman behind you chuckled dryly as her digits sped up in pace, starting to move your underwear to the side so she could finally slip inside your tight hole.
“What, you don’t want everyone seeing how dirty my perfect little girl is?” Before you could respond, her middle finger finally entered your awaiting pussy. She started with a slow pace, soon gaining the courage to speed up and truly fuck you. You body was slammed against the car as your breasts slid up and down on the window slightly.
“Daddy! You fuck me so good- oh!” You were cut short of a sentence as she found that spongey spot inside of you, the one that drove you nuts. Before you could let out a loud moan her neglected fingers filled your mouth as she hit the back of your throat.
“That’s it baby, take me all down your throat like you did with that dildo last week. Did you really think I wouldn’t see? That I wouldn’t see how you were basically begging for me to fuck your throat till you were drooling all over me?” Wanda knew it wasn’t just for her. She knew that before this you barely even knew her, that the videos weren’t meant for her pleasure but for everyones. The thought caused a small pain to the heart but she quickly regained herself, focusing on making you feel good. She could tell you were getting close, she could feel the way you clenched and throbbed around her. She pulled her digits out of you, licking them clean before opening the car door and rushing you in, desperate to get home and fuck you properly. You had no time to protest as her hand went to place itself onto your inner thigh, almost like how you did earlier to her.
“Wanda-” “Don’t. Just because I’m not railing you senseless doesn’t mean you don’t call me daddy. Trust me, you’ll be screaming it sooner than later.” You gulped fearfully and leaned back into the seat, getting ready for a torturous ride.
By the time you arrived it was already almost midnight, the campus lights were off and only a few dorms had a yellow glow in them. Wanda walked you to her dorm, slamming you against her door when she finally reached it. She struggled to unlock it and had to pull away just to make sure her key went in right. You could tell she seemed embarrassed but it quickly faded once she got her hands back onto you. The woman pulled you into the small room and pushed you down onto the bed, climbing on top of you quickly. She quickly removed her jacket and threw it across the room somewhere, taking your shirt to join the growing pile.
“Daddy wants to make you feel good tonight, will you let her? Will you let daddy play with you all night till you cum all over her?” She asked, already knowing the answer. Your rapid nod wasn’t enough for her as she gave a small smack to your face, repeating her last sentence once again.
“Yes daddy. You can use me however you want, I promise I’ll be good.” Your seeminly innocent tone made Wanda want to destroy you right then and there. Groaning, she grabbed you by the chin, pulling you close to her and forcing you to make eye contact.
“Yeah? You’ll be good for me? You’ll let me prove that I can be better than any of those stupid toys you use?” She didn’t let you answer before she moved herself off of you and removed every article of clothing you had, getting rid of her own soon after.
“Yes! I promise I’ll do whatever you want. I just want your cock so bad.” You whined desperatly, hoping she’d pitty you enough to give you what you wanted. She chuckled and layed down on the bed, patting the spot next to her as a signal for you to join her. At first you were confused, that was until she grabbed your leg and draped it over her awaiting mouth, leaving your pussy on full display. You looked down at her with a shocked expression, honestly surprised that she wanted you to ride her face.
“Now baby, I want you to watch me as I lick your pretty little pussy. And I don’t want you to cum until I tell you that you can do so, understood?” You answered her question quickly and she dove into your wet cunt, licking and sucking anywhere she could. She moaned into you as she stuck her tongue into your hole, her mouth exploding at the new found taste.
“Mmm, you taste so fucking good baby, I can’t stop.” She mumbled into your pussy, going right back in the moment she finished speaking. You held eye contact with her like she asked, slightly bucking your hips up when her nose made contact with your clit.
“Daddy! I need to cum so bad, wanna cum all over your face, please!” The woman didn’t give a response as she was too engrosed in the flavor of your juices in her mouth. She shook her head back and forth to stimulate you more, the wet noises echoing throughout the bland room. The woman finally leaned back to talk, “Of course princess, I want you to squirt all in my mouth. I want to feel you finish on top of me.” The moment she finished speaking, you came. You finally got that release you’ve been wanting for the past hour. She soaked in the moment, letting you ride out your high while you continued basking in the feeling. You yelled out her name repeatedly until you finally calmed down, slowly moving yourself off of her and admiring her soaked face. You brought yourself down to meet her, your noses brushing against one another slightly before you started licking the juices off of her. She moaned as your mouth trailed all over her, grinding your already sensitive pussy onto her crotch.
“Daddy, too sensitive.” You whined out, already feeling that coil in your stomach once again. She shook her head repeatedly before finally responding, “No, no, no princess. I know you can take it, I thought you were my good girl, I guess you don’t want to be my sweet little angel anymore.”
“N-no daddy, I’ll be good! I need your cock please, I need it in my pussy.” She finally complied and lined herself up with your hole, rubbing your clit with the tip before slipping insde of you. Your breath got caught in your throat as she lowered you down until you were at the base of her cock.
“‘M so full daddy!” She groaned at the thought, noticing a small bulge outlined on your lower stomach. Using her hand to grab your hips, she guided you to go back and forth slowly while keeping her eyes on the imprint.
When she heard your moans she flipped you over almost immediately, wrapping your legs around her shoulders to find a new angle. Feeling your hands lay on her back and grasping the muscles that laid upon it. You scratched down her back harshly, leaving red marks and a little bit of blood behind. Wanda never thought someone scraping her back would turn her on this much but it did, it felt heavenly. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head and your mouth went wide open.
“Mmm, daddy’s little brainless slut, aren’t you? My cock feels so fucking good, doesn’t it? You can’t even think straight anymore.” She muttered into your ear, feeling you clench around her desperately.
“Mhm, I’m your brainless little slut daddy! I’m whatever you want me be, I’ll be your fuck toy.” She could’ve came on the spot, your words were affecting her more than she wanted to admit. “Yeah? You wanna be my fucking toy? I’ll use you whenever I want, I don’t care if you don’t want it I’ll fuck this sweet little cunt anyways. You’ll be my own personal fleshlight, you’ll please me whenever I want, won’t you?” You nodded faster than you could think. The coil in your stomach was about to snap any minute as was Wanda’s.
“I’m gonna cum in this tight little pussy, I’m gonna fill it up with my cum.” She knew you wanted it, you’d take whatever she gave you without complaint. You nodded once again, being too fucked out to even speak. You felt spurts of hot liquid fill you as you finally let yourself go once again. This had to be the best orgasom you’ve ever had, none of the hook-ups or toys could even come close. Wanda whispered out sweet words as you two slowed down to a hilt. She started to pull out until your whines filled the quiet room, stopping what she was doing and stilling herself inside of you.
“You okay? I didn’t hurt you, right?” You shook your head and brought her head back into your neck, wrapping your arms around her neck and holding her closely. She inhaled deeply and finally relaxed for the first time in awhile. She was worried about your reaction to her question she wanted to ask you, she didn’t want to make this awkward if you didn’t feel the same way. But she asked anyway, the fear that if she didn’t then you’d end up with someone else, someone other than her.
“Will you go on a date with me?” The silence was deafening until you finally said something in return. “Sure.”
#wanda smut#wanda maximoff angst#wanda angst#wanda maximoff smut#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda maximoff#wanda x fem!reader#wanda x reader#scarlet witch x reader#scarlet witch x you#scarlet witch#anon ask#anon request
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Quiver - Steve Raglan/William Afton x Goth Female Reader
Rating - Explicit
a little fluffy office sex smut for Valentine’s Day
Also also available on AO3
There’s no way you’ve been hired on merit alone.
Not looking like that, with your fishnet tights and short skirts and sheer blouses and dark makeup. Everything shaded ebony or a variant of it. It’s all so close to being on the verge of indecent while barely meeting the dress code requirements.
So Steve Raglan assumes this must have been a favor to someone. A relative of yours has an inside connection, getting you this part time job at the social services office for some extra cash while you manage your college courses. Another entry for your sparse resume to supplement your babysitting reference and that job at the coffee shop that you’d worked at the previous summer.
For some reason it’s you more often than not these days that guides the clients back to his office. He can hear the heavy tread of your Doc Martens all the way down the hall from the reception area. He smells your gum, sometimes, mixed berry or cinnamon. Watches the way you lazily blow a half hearted bubble, a thin stretch of the xylitol pushed between your white, white teeth against that dark crimson mouth. The hair you’d hastily pinned up is already coming undone. You’re wearing a choker today, the band of velvet drawing attention to the arch of your throat. The gum chewing is loud, sloppy, wet as you lead a nervous looking middle aged woman to his door. Everything so careless. There is no grace or delicacy here. You bend to retie the undone lace of one boot. The skirt is really much too short for that.
Steve clears his throat and struggles to focus on the individual seeking work across from him. There’s a rip in your tights today that’s driving him mad. Just below the hem of your skirt. In a sea of other openings in that daring weave of material he doesn’t know why that one haunts him so much. He imagines shoving his thumb through it, squeezing your thigh.
The image will not leave his mind and he spends his lunch break that day with the solid wood door to his office locked and the blinds on his solitary window overlooking the parking lot securely sealed before he fucks into his fist until he spills over his hand thinking about you bent over for him.
***
The winter drags on, but Raglan doesn’t mind it much. It’s a welcome precursor to the long, arid stretch of summer months ahead.
It’s nearly Valentine's Day. Red and pink decorations adorn the reception area. Cardboard cutouts of hearts and roses and cupids with bows and arrows, the quivers adorned with lace. Someone in the office always decorates for every holiday. It seems like a lot of effort for very little reward. He’s never been one for festivities or celebrating. He interacts with his coworkers as little as possible. It’s not that he’s not good with people; he could hardly do this profession if he wasn’t. He’s very good at reading people. He knows how to be polite and charming and charismatic. He knows how to feign empathy to extract the information he needs when he’s placing these applicants, sifting past the drama and the sob stories to determine what their qualifications are. He’s not interested in excuses, only outcomes. That’s why his wall is covered in accolades acknowledging his accomplishments and achievements. He’s run out of room for them now. There are several still sitting unframed in one of his desk drawers.
So it’s not a lack of skill that drives a wedge between himself and other people; more like a lack of interest. Most people aren’t worth investing time in. You, though. You’ve certainly caught his attention. And he’s caught you staring more than once, lingering at his door when you have no reason to. He thinks you might be developing a little crush. A small smile here, a flutter of lashes there. There’s something there, dormant, waiting.
The middle aged career counselor has never been anything but polite to you. And you’ve been, well, yourself. So the weeks have passed and there’s been no advancement of any type, no progress in your relationship, workplace or otherwise. You still are the main attraction of his fantasies when he needs to rub one out. It’s shifted from a sporadic event to more of a daily one. He really needs to do something decisive about this one way or another.
So there’s this silly holiday now. A plethora of gift choices. A box of chocolates is what he decides on. Traditional. A classic. Heart shaped box. He’d arrived at the office before anyone else. A card with your name printed on it in capital letters. It doesn’t even remotely resemble his typical cursive. He sets the box beside the keyboard you sit at. It feels like baiting a trap.
Probably because that’s exactly what he’s doing.
***
The morning progresses like any other. You lead the clients in, one after the other. You’re wearing the ripped fishnets today. There’s a crushed red velvet cami beneath the sheer black blouse. Your nails are black with little red hearts on them.
A client has cancelled last minute. You’ve come to inform him. One of the other women who works in reception calls out to you as she passes by. “Did you find out who they’re from yet?” You shake your head. There’s a silver heart dripping from the black lace choker at your throat that swings with the movement.
“What’s that?” So casually inquired. He turns in his swivel chair slightly.
You shake your head again. Your cheeks flush. You’ve already told him about the client cancelling. Something that could have been done over the phone. Yet you’re still hovering by the open door.
“Someone left me a box of chocolates. No one recognizes the writing on the card.”
“You have a secret admirer then? How romantic.” His teeth flash in a grin.
“You don’t…you don’t know who’s written this, do you?” You walk to the desk. You smell like jasmine today. The card is tucked into the waistband of the skirt. No pockets. You hand it to the seated man. It’s warm from the heat of your body. It makes him want to do terrible things to you.
“Hmmm.” He hums thoughtfully. There’s still a smile struggling to break free again, his lips twitching. He’s enjoying this. Seeing you so disarmed. All of that clomping around in your heavy boots and shrouding yourself in your dark colors won’t shield you from him. He’ll access the young woman beneath all of that. “I might.”
“Really?” You reach for the card. He taps the edge against his lips and your fingers drop uncertainly. That rent in your tights makes his mouth water. You’re so close to him. Probably the closest you’ve ever stood.
“Supposing,” he begins, “since I now have a half hour free and it’s nearly lunch time, you take your break now and we discuss it?”
You stare at him. He lifts his brows, waiting for a response.
“Okay,” you murmur.
The trap closes, the bait taken.
***
Steve waits patiently while you go inform the office manager you’ll be taking your lunch now.
Once again you’re hesitating at his office threshold, as if halted by some invisible forcefield.
“Shut it behind you, please.” A click as it draws closed. The career counselor stands and walks towards it, turning the lock.
He sees you swallow, the choker straining against your throat. He’s much taller than you; taller than most people. He looks down and you look up and it matches the images he’s created when he thinks of you on your knees in front of him.
You lick your painted lips. “So, you think you know who it is?” Still trying to be casual. To make it seem like this is anything other than what it is about to become.
“I don’t think. I know.” The amusement is gone from his features. His pale eyes are going dark, the pupils expanding with desire.
“Oh. I thought you said…” Your voice trails off when his hand sits against the side of your neck, tucked beneath your hair. He pushes you and you easily stumble against the door.
“Have you really no idea?”
Your lips are parted. Wicked ruby against the pure white. Temptation. He hears you breathing more rapidly. Lets his fingers thread up into the hair at the back of your head to pull your face upwards. A gasp.
“Well? I’m waiting for your answer.”
“It’s you…”
“Yes.”
“I didn’t know you…we’ve barely spoken.”
“Not using words, maybe.” He inhales and exhales deeply. “Would you like to try some more of that…nonverbal communication?”
You nod against the hand still holding you.
His mouth presses against yours. He does not bother with gentle kisses or a soft introduction of lips. There is no time for that and he has waited long enough for this moment. His tongue spears your lips and he tastes you for the first time. You’ve snuck one of the chocolates he’d gifted recently. Bittersweet dark and cherry cordial. You moan against his mouth. He presses his body into yours, so you can feel what you do to him. How crazy you make him.
Steve abruptly pulls away, clutching one of your hands and dragging you towards the desk. He sinks back into the chair and tossed his glasses on the desk before be finally surrenders to what he’s wanted to do for so long, pushing a thumb inside that inviting gape in your hosiery. His other hand disappears under your slit maxi skirt, wedging between your thighs, eliciting another whimper.
“Normally I am all for foreplay and drawing things out, but today is simply not going to be one of those days since we’re both on the clock, as it were.” Both hands now clutch the waistband of your tights and panties and he drags them down roughly until they rest rumpled somewhere around your knees. He thinks he’s made a least one new rent in those tights; at the very least made the previous opening even wider. Pretty soon they will be too indecent to wear in public at all. “Bend over,” he rasps, and you obey, resting your upper body on his desk. The wheels of the chair roll across the plastic mat shielding the carpet and he runs a hand over the curve of each cheek appreciatively. “Stance a little broader,” he urges, fingers dipping between your thighs to stroke along your sex. Another soft moan as your spread your legs further apart. His thumbs dig into your flesh as he separates your cheeks and drives his tongue inside of you.
The noise of pleasure that escapes is anything but soft this time and you clamp a hand over your mouth to stifle it. Steve pauses for a few heartbeats to see if anyone will come knocking. Apparently satisfied this is not the case, he begins eating you out in earnest. He loved eating pussy and yours is a particularly delicious specimen. He can still taste the remnants of soap from your shower that morning. Your own flavor, musky yet feminine. He could happily spend the half hour just like this, but he wants to fuck you and that’s exactly what he does next, standing up and unfastening his belt. Fly opened quickly and his cock pulled free. Rests it against one cheek. Breathing ragged. He makes sure you’re still muffling your voice before he eases into you. There’s a lot to take. You’re not going to be able to keep quiet.
As predicted you whine. The brace of fingers over your lips have slipped a bit. “So fucking tight. I love this wet pussy.” He pushes a little further. Another keen. “You can take it.” The hand curled around your hip tightens. A final shove. “There you go. Good girl.” A snug fit around his cock. Sheer bliss. He withdraws and thrusts back inside, your body jerking across the desk. Steve’s sweating already, teeth gritted. It has been far, far too long since he’s been bottomed out in some hot cunt like yours. No more test runs. He begins fucking into you roughly. Shoves the hem of his dress shirt impatiently out of the way so he can watch his cock saw in and out of you. He wishes he was recording this. You looked so fucking good bent over his desk. The little mewling, keening noises you’re making are driving him insane. “You like that, huh? Answer me you little slut,” he growls.
“Yes,” you gasp.
“You’ve been teasing me for months now with those ripped tights and short skirts. Stomping around like a fucking whore.” He settles both hands on your hips and drags you back onto his prick as his hips snap forward. A sobbing sound somewhere between pain and pleasure. He’s being rough. He really doesn’t care. His fingers dig deep enough to leave bruises as he continues to pummel you. His eyes dart to the clock. The time is passing far too rapidly. He debates about filling up your womb right then. So tempted to breed you. But then there’s your mouth. Yes, that’s where he wants to dump his load today.
He pulls out and slumps back in the chair behind him. Sees you straighten gingerly. Sore already. You’re really going to feel that come morning. “Kneel down.”
The tights and panties are still gathered in a tangled bunch around your knees. He has to help you get into position. Your mascara has smeared. The carefully painted lips are smudged. They’re about to get even messier. His fingers knot in your hair, guiding your mouth to his cock. He heaves a sigh. Your mouth is as perfect as your pussy. He feels your lips stretching to take him in. Another tight, wet hole for him to squeeze into. But you’re still so tentative. He’s going to have to assist you.
Steve forces your head to remain still while he shoves himself against the border of your throat. You gurgle and choke and gag as he unrelentingly batters you several more times before being merciful enough to let you slide back off of him, coughing and gasping for air. Fresh runs of mascara stain your cheeks where the tears have leaked anew from the strain. Your nails dig into his thighs when your head bobs over him again. He lets you control the pace a bit, watching your lips and tongue work over the head and shaft. “Look at me.” Your eyes meet his. He grabs your head and greets the back of your throat again. “That’s it. Take that big cock down your throat. You love it, don’t you?” You whimper, attempting to answer.
He drags his saliva coated dick free and you struggle for more air. “Open your mouth and stick out your tongue. Keep looking at me.” He sets the flushed tip against your moist pink tongue. Wraps his fingers around the shaft and strokes, pushing down on the muscular organ that’s cradling the head of his cock. Your eyes are locked with his. His breathing is labored. So close. His eyes narrow as he frowns. A moan tears loose and he shoots a stream of cum inside your mouth. You blink and struggle but he’s got you pinned in place. A few more creamy sprays paint your mouth. He wipes the edge of his cock off on your bottom lip. “Swallow every drop of that.” He jerks your head back a bit. You close your mouth and swallow, wincing over the taste. “Let me see.” You stick your tongue out again. Clean. “Good girl.”
The bearded man relaxes his grip in your hair. His eyes flick to the clock again. Made it with five minutes to spare. Just enough time for you to put yourself back together and wash up in the bathroom across the hall.
He helps you stand, easily pulling you to your feet. Clothes are shifted back into place. The tights are not as ruined as he’d anticipated. He’ll have to work on them some more another time. You depart his office without comment. He wipes his brow and sits back down at the desk. The card is still lying there, beside his glasses.
The workday continues. You usher in more clients. He finds them job placements. The office closes for the day.
Steve waits for you outside, leaning against your car—black, like everything else you own. He’s watched you from the window of his office exiting and entering it so he’s certain it belongs to you. His arms are folded. He sees your steps slow as you catch sight of him.
“I thought,” he begins. There are roses resting on the windshield. Dark purple. “We might have dinner together.”
You draw even with him.
“I don’t like to be rushed. It’s not how I do things.”
You nod, glancing at the flowers adorning your vehicle. The heart shaped box is clutched to your chest.
“Or would you like to continue where we left off?” He pushes off the car and leans against you, pinning you in place, your body resting crushed lightly between the steel and the social worker’s long, lean frame.
“Do I have to choose only one of those options?”
A smile. “Not at all.”
“Both,” you decide.
The grin widens. “Both it is. Happy Valentine’s Day.” He bends to kiss you.
#william afton x reader#william afton x you#steve raglan x reader#steve raglan x you#william afton smut#steve raglan smut#dividers credit @saradika-graphics
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I think König is one of those guys where everyone thinks he's the biggest asshole. Like your parents meet him and unless your relationship with your parents is perfect they will not like him. Like to the point where the day of your wedding they'll be "gently" telling you if at anytime you need to pack up your things and come home. (Totally not speaking from experience)
like when it's just you two, he is the sweetest man, peppering you with kisses, using himself as a living weighted blanket, telling you how amazing you are, and how happy is to have you. Constantly praising you for any special skills or talents, but EVERYONE thinks he's an asshole and can't understand for the life of them why the hell you a relatively nice person is with him.
That isn't to say he can't play nice, he can, but if he finds out someone hurt you even if it's emotionally or mentally he's not even going to try because if they can't play nice with his darlin they're not worth the effort. Being nice is one of those things that takes effort for him.
-Hot mess rambler
(I know I said I'd get out, but ghoul you have infected me with CoD brain worms. I have multiple one shots on a Google doc of X reader stories and have multiple tabs of research for said fics. I don't know if I'll share them, but I wanted to let you know that you have infected me with the inspiration)
König is not charming lol he's not nice. He can play at nice but he doesn't actually want to engage with people. Monotone king, voice a little too loud to be considered friendly, constant side eye, he only pulls because he's tall.
He's ONLY nice to you. He only cares about what his darling thinks of him, everyone else is incidental. If you complain even once about someone they're on his permanent shit list. He menaces your family and friends, radiates the worst possible vibes while standing behind you. You introduce him and it's such a shock. You only ever gush about how sweet König is, how caring he is, how soft and gentle with you he is. Who the fuck is this monster glowering at them like he's imagined 100 different ways to kill them. Yeah he's a huge asshole. One word answers to questions, doesn't elaborate on anything, doesn't even seem interested in talking to people other than you.
Everyone at your wedding asks if you're being held hostage or something, offers you a couch to crash on, it's the most confusing thing. The toasts are all half joking about König being a giant scary weirdo, you don't get it. He's the best partner in the world, but only for you.
(also you stay in my ask box, you're not getting away that easy. If you ever feel the desire to share I would love to read whatever you've written! Congrats on the brain worms.)
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Jinx | Sukuna Ryomen
mma fighter!sukuna ryomen x femalecoach!reader
Part 9. Don't Know
Beginning. ← Previous | Next →
Synopsis: Sukuna is a world champion with anger issues. It's believed by many that he is untrainable. Yeah, you can't train him, but you can dominate him.
Contents: Fighting. Sukuna being Sukuna. Female reader being dom. Jinx AU (the BL, not the character from lol)
Warnings: Cursed words. Fighting. Sexual harassment. I only read it once, lmao
Word count: 2722 words.
A/N: Shoutout to @ghosts-girl_ on IG for sending me a Sukuna fanart that was inspired by this fic! Tysm <3!
Btw I made a PLAYLIST
Going back to the hospital always scared me. I always enter the doctor’s office with sweaty hands while imagining the worst in my mind. The white and neat walls, decorated with informative posters about the importance of exercising regularly. The light gray floor was freshly waxed, I could see my scared face reflected in it. There were a few fake plants around to make the place look less intimidating.
The doctor was asking me questions about my lifestyle over the past six months while typing incessantly on the computer perched in the middle of the large desk. The doctor took out the new x"ray that had been taken of my neck and inspected it in front of the light screen. He didn't say anything, he just analyzed her very carefully to not make a wrong diagnosis. My manager, Mei Mei, came with me this time for support despite having a tight schedule. She noticed I was nervous, so she patted me on the back to calm me down.
“Do you think she can fight soon, Doc?" Mei Mei asked him my biggest concern.
“Her neck has completely healed, if she wanted, she could fight tonight,” the doctor answered with a smile.
A sigh of relief escaped my lips at the wonderful news I had awaited for so long. 3 years to be precise. I was out of the octagon for 3 years on medical recommendation so that my neck would heal completely and avoid future injuries. My face was about to cry with joy, so I hid it in my hands. I was about to reborn, I already wanted to return to the gym with my team to train like in the old days. Start again, conquer the battlefield and recover the title that was taken from me.
Mei Mei and I left the office to meet my friend and training partner, Nobara, who was waiting for us along with Mei Mei's younger brother, Ui Ui. I told her the good news, and she hugged me happily. We used to do everything together before I was injured, now we could go back to our routine as if nothing had happened.
“Everyone will be very happy when they see you back at the gym,” Nobara said excitedly.
“Finally,” I sighed heavily jokingly. “Mei Mei, shall I ask you to gather the team?” I asked her nicely.
Mei Mei was in charge of ensuring that my schedule was met without delays. She was the one who organizes my fights, gathers athletes for special training, hires doctors, etc. She was always busy, but she never let me out of her sight. Not only that, but she always took care of my my needs even though Team Black gives me everything I need. I told her not to worry so much in several occasions, but she always responded with “you never know.”
"I'm already on it, darling. Also, since your appearances with Ryomen, there are several sponsors interested in you,” Mei Mei reminded me of the unexpected kiss Sukuna gave me after his crushing victory against Naoya a couple of weeks ago. "Your life will return to normal in no time."
"When do you plan to come back?” Nobara asked me excitedly.
"I don't know yet, I have to talk to Sukuna's manager to agree on a release date and find a replacement,” I replied.
"When you have the date, let me know,” Mei Mei asked me without taking her eyes off her phone.
"When you return, could you bring me something signed by the King of the Ring?". Ui Ui asked excitedly.
"I'll see what I can do,” I answered honestly.
Mei Mei and Ui Ui left after that. Once we lost sight of them, Nobara took my hands to approach my face curiously. I moved away from her face at the unexpected proximity. When I saw her eyes sparkling from excitement, I could imagine what she wanted.
"So… You and Sukuna, huh?" she asked excitedly.
Since living with him, I have noticed that our relationship had improved, but only as a coach-athlete relationship. I haven't noticed that he treats me sweeter, that he gives me flirtatious glances or that he gets nervous when I am around. He continues to act as the same fearsome Sukuna as always.
My feelings towards him have also increased. When I have to watch him to make sure he does the exercises, my mind travels back to the passionate nights we've had together. I can no longer see his hands without thinking about how he holds me by the waist or his face without imagining him moaning my name. He made me blush without even trying, I was fed up. It was so frustrating not being able to do my job well.
"There’s nothing between me and Sukuna,” I answered, removing my hands from the grip.
"Don’t lie to me! Everyone saw that passionate kiss he gave you!" Nobara scolded while pretending to make out with herself.
"Sukuna only did it to annoy Naoya," I answered, trying to downplay it…
…but I couldn't ignore it. After that night, my perspective on Sukuna had completely changed. I wasn't surprised that I fell in love with him, I mean, I have a reputation for choosing the worst possible men. I had to get rid of this feeling as soon as I could. If I could do it while I lived with him, great, but I knew perfectly well that after asking for my resignation, Sukuna would throw me out and this feeling would go away on its own like a cold.
"And how are you so sure that he doesn't like you?" Nobara asked me.
The idea that Sukuna was interested in me in that way was tempting. It wasn't crazy considering we've already slept together twice, and he kissed me on international television, but I highly doubted that was the case. Yuuji had told me that Sukuna wasn't interested in having a girlfriend and I doubt that will change anytime soon.
“Impossible,” I answered without further ado.
"Oh, come on! Men never kiss woman just because,” Nobara argued.
"What do you know know about men? You're a lesbian,” I joked.
"I know how they behave when they like a girl, it's what we have in common," she challenged me.
My heart wanted to believe her, but my mind warned me with red flags that I shouldn't. Being in love is complicated.
At first, I had a hard time adjusting to living with Sukuna. I lived alone for so long that I forgot how it was living with someone. Quickly, I could adapt to his cold attitude in the morning, seeing him walk around the house wet and with a towel wrapped around his slutty waist, and listening to his complaints when we left the gym. Sukuna is the one who pays for everything, the only thing I could contribute to the house was to cook for him from time to time if the cook was not available. I couldn't help but feel like a sugar baby, but that feeling went away every time I used the magnificent indoor pool.
The microwave announcing that my popcorn was ready brought me out of my thoughts. I was preparing myself some popcorn as tonight's fights began. The schedule was not very exciting, except for the main fight. The fight for the heavyweight division championship between Toji Fushiguro and Aoi Todo. A battle between two powerful giants of the UFC.
I returned to the kitchen to prepare the popcorn to my liking in a bowl. I opened the refrigerator to look for the juice I had bought before I got home. Being a high-performance athlete, Sukuna's smart refrigerator only served to store large amounts of chicken breast, vegetables, and sparkling water. If I wanted something with sugar or “chemicals”, I had to buy it myself and hide it so as not to tempt Sukuna's appetite. As I closed the door, I noticed the new dietary regimen that Sukuna's nutritionist had asked hm to follow.
"Chicken, rice, and broccoli for 4 days straight? No wonder he's always so angry,” I thought out loud as I quickly scanned the sheet of paper.
No sugar. Do not eat carbs after 6 pm. Just an egg without yolk in the morning. I knew that Sukuna was a highly disciplined athlete, but going on such a demanding diet was ridiculous. If a nutritionist asked me to follow this regimen like a soldier, I would fire her in no time.
There were so many things I wanted to change about his extreme lifestyle, but I was sure I wouldn't be able to figure it out before my last day. Furthermore, I had to tell him that I would no longer be his coach and that someone else was going to take my place. I didn't know how he would even take the news. I just had to make sure to tell him when he is in a good mood. Who am I kidding? He is never in a good mood, that goes against his personality.
"Fuck this shit!" Sukuna yelled as he reluctantly entered the house. Now was not the right time to tell him.
He tossed his backpack onto the small stool at the entrance, where we kept our shoes and had a mirror for finishing touches. Sukuna slammed the door shut which offended my ears. I just watched him confused while I ate my popcorn.
"Things didn’t go well with the Olympian?" I asked, trying to understand where his anger was coming from.
While I was at the doctor, Sukuna went to the Olympic stadium to have an exclusive sparring with a boxing gold medalist. He insisted that I cancel my appointment to come with him, but I told him that even if I did that, I wouldn't be much help. My specialty is jujitsu, not boxing. I told him that Gojo knows more than me, and he stopped annoying me.
"That idiot asked for a break on the fifth round. Can you fucking believe that?! The best boxer in the nation?! My balls can last longer than that!” He exclaimed in annoyance as he ran his fingers through his hair in exasperation.
"Could it be because it was training and not a real fight?" I asked before putting a popcorn in my mouth, staying calm. If I got down to his level, he would only get more upset.
"If I had wanted to waste my time, I would have trained with one of the gym's rookies,"Sukuna mumbled.
He sat on the stool and sighed heavily as he unlaced his shoes to enter the house. I could see the helplessness in his eyes at not having the demanding training he wanted. Having a perfect streak of 28 overwhelming victories, he hasn't had a rival who can match his level in years. Always being the winner means that you are not learning, and you are staying stagnant while others moved forward, Sukuna was afraid of being left behind.
I sighed as I understood his anger, putting the bowl aside to approach him. I took advantage of the fact that he was at my level to gently massage his shoulders. Even though I didn't do it with a romantic intention, touching him like that after weeks felt like drinking water in the middle of the Sahara. A temporary pleasure that I had to take advantage as much as I could.
"Do you know what it means that he didn't last more than 5 rounds?" I asked him while massaging his neck.
"I'm not in the mood for your shit," he mumbled, focused on his shoes.
"Let me finish!" I barked. "It means you're better than an Olympic medalist," he looked at me again, calmer now.
"You think?" he asked me, looking at me to deduce if I was saying it out of pity or not.
"Of course! You are the king of the ring, not just in the UFC!" I cheered, giving him a friendly pat on the arm.
"Not everyone can go against the king," he said with an evil smile.
It was one of those few times I've seen him smile like that. I'm glad to know that I could be of use to him outside the gym. I wanted to be the cause for him to smile more often, even if it meant he didn't feel the same way about me. A reality that I was willing to accept for the sake of both of us.
The fight between Aoi Todo and Toji Fushiguro was about to start. The current champion, Toji, entered shining his glorious belt with Welcome To The Jungle by Guns N' Roses in the background while the commentators read his statistics. Aoi, the challenger, Todo looked forward to the fight from the octagon. The crowd was excited, music was blaring from the speakers, and commentators were debating who would take home the belt. It was an important fight that deserved to be seen on the room's beautiful 80"inch screen.
"That son of a bitch," Sukuna snorted behind me, referring to Toji. He was in my robe as always before going to sleep.
"A talented son of a bitch," I joked. "Sit down and watch it with me."
"I'll watch it until I get sleepy," Sukuna scoffed as he sat next to me on the couch.
After formal introductions and the referee's instructions, the first round took place. The two mastodons faced each other face to face in a rain of punches and jabs that seemed to have no end. They were like two bulls striking each other with their sharp horns, making the plaza resonate with the power of their tackles. It was clear that Aoi Todo was a born boxer who did not allow himself to be intimidated by the enormous presence of Fushiguro with those beastly hits. Before Toji could take him to the ground, like he had done in the fight against Sukuna, the bell rang.
“Who are you rooting to?” I asked Sukuna excitedly.
"I do not know, and I do not care." he answered with a yawn. That answer deserved me to throw my empty popcorn bowl at him.
"It's a very important fight! You should know!" I scolded him as the TV went to commercial break. "Todo and Fushiguro have been fighting for the division title for 2 years. Both have won twice simultaneously. This is their fifth fight. It's the fight for 3 out of 3!” I explained. Sukuna shrugged his shoulders, downplaying it the importance it deserved.
"And who are you rooting for?" He asked me to make conversation as they returned to the fight.
"Aoi Todo is a magnificent boxer like you…". At the comparison, Sukuna gave me a killer glance. "Obviously, you are the best," I corrected before he killed me.
"That is what I thought."
"But Toji is a complete fighter, I am team Toji for life," I replied with a proud smile. Sukuna gave me another killing look, this time it was more stern. I really don't learn from my mistakes, huh? "Obviously I'm Team Black before that," I said with a guilty smile.
The champion threw a quick jab, but the challenger easily dodged it. Aoi responded with a combination of quick strikes that made Fushiguro flinched. He stumbled back, but stayed upright. He threw a wild right hand, but the challenger blocked it with his forearm. The challenger took the opportunity to launch a flurry of jabs that Toji dodged like a master. Aoi continued entering her field, causing Toji's back to hit the fence. He threw one last desperate right hand, but Todo dodged it and responded with a left hook that sent the champion to the ground.
"¡No!" I exclaimed upon seeing the knockout.
"Too bad…" Sukuna mocked me.
After my champion couldn't get up easily, the referee ended the fight. The challenger had won the fight with a monstrous knockout. The crowd roared and Todo raised his arms in victory as he ran around the octagon. He had defeated his legendary opponent and became the new champion of the heavyweight division.
"First words after defeating such an important rival?". The interviewer asked Todo as he celebrated with his team supporting him behind him.
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Got It Wrong
Rating: EXPLICIT 18+ MDNI
Pairing: Joel Miller x you x Tess
Word count: 3.9k
Summary: you meet two kind strangers when you get to the Boston QZ.
Warnings: SMUT! Alcohol, oral m and f receiving, PIV, fingering, FFM, mention of pant violence/murder, dub con due to alcohol, uncertain reader, reader is in her 20s, no physical description, probably more.
A word from the author: This is a repost! This was my second fic ever and I intended for there to be a second part. It’s mostly finished and just chilling in my docs because it got kinda dark and I wasn’t really sure what to do with it. I may still finish it one day. Y’all can tell me what you think.
The Boston QZ is a hellscape. You’ve always put on a brave face, stoic and bold in the face of everything that has fallen down around you. It’s been a lot, but your resolve has been firm. If you let yourself break even a little, you knew you wouldn’t make it. You had to stay alert here. Maybe the infected weren’t a threat inside the high fences and barbed wire that surrounded the city, but danger remained. People here are desperate and desperate people don’t show any mercy. You didn’t blame them, necessarily, that’s just the way of the world now.
For a long time, living with your family way out in the woods upstate had been something close to normalcy. You had a cabin and a garden and a creek. You had your dad, your sister, a woman your mom had worked with before the outbreak. You had a routine. You let yourself imagine the future here. You were happy.
You were in the woods foraging, filling a basket with mushrooms, berries, and edible leaves. Lost in the plans for a salad at dinner that night, you didn’t see the raiders slipping up to the house. You didn’t see them take away everything in an instant. You only heard a scream and shouting from voices you didn’t recognize. You froze, unable to run to the cabin to try to fend off the raiders. They’d have just killed you, too. You don’t know how long they were there, taking all they could carry before creeping back the same way they’d came. You couldn’t make yourself go back to the cabin. You didn’t want to see what they’d done to your family. You stayed in the woods all night, awake and crying and rocking yourself.
Now you were left alone in the world and with no choice but to go to the Boston QZ. You made your way there carefully, slowly, quietly. You raised your hands and let them test you, spending two full days in isolation before being spoken to like a human.
You had almost everything that you had stolen the first night in the shelter, and you had seen the leering eyes of the men you’d passed on the street, you heard fighting and crying, saw faces come and go. The labor was back breaking and soul-crushing. You’d have given anything for a moment of relief from the constant misery and fear.
After a few weeks in the shelter without serious incident, you let your guard down a little. There was a routine here, something you could focus on and ignore everything else. You’d found an abandoned paperback and read it in your spare time. You read and re-read it three times now, taking comfort in knowing what would happen at the end.
On Saturdays tables were set up in the dining room, and you could get some basic supplies. Some kind of charity, you’d guessed. You approached the table where bags of soap and deodorant and tampons were being distributed and were pleased to see a woman with a kind face and a warm smile standing before you. She was pretty, with long, sandy red hair, streaked with grey, pulled away from her face. She was maybe in her mid forties, roughly twice your age. Her name tag read “Tess.”
“How long have you been here, sweetheart?” She spoke to you in such a warm way, you dropped your guard a little further. Tess had an endearing way of asking about your health, asking if you had what you needed, giving you tips for getting placed in FEDRA housing, always asking how things were progressing. Tess was there every week, and you looked forward to seeing her. This week, as she was packing up to go, she asked you for a hand getting the boxes and card table back to her apartment. “It’s not far, and I’d owe you big time.” After how kind she’s been to you, you were happy to oblige.
The walk was short, about 5 blocks, down an alley and up two flights of stairs to a dimly lit but cozy apartment.
“I think we earned a drink!” Tess shot you a grin and held up a bottle of amber liquid.
You sat at her kitchen table while she poured the liquid into pretty etched glasses and reveled in what felt like friendship for the first time in ages. Maybe the QZ would be ok. Maybe you’d have your own little apartment and couch and pretty glasses to drink from before long.
The alcohol was making your head swim just a little and your little daydream didn’t let you hear as the door opened and closed again. You didn’t notice the man standing behind you, leaning on the doorway and looking at Tess with unspoken words on his lips. When you finally noticed Tess looking over your shoulder, eyebrow raised ever so slightly.
You turned slowly, and smiled at the man. He was tall and must have been about Tess’s age. He was good looking, tall and broad and strong, with salt and pepper hair and a scruffy beard. His eyes were dark and serious.
“Oh, hi! Sorry, I’m probably in the way of your dinner, I should get going.” You felt suddenly that you were intruding. This must be Tess’s boyfriend or husband or something. Tess turned back to you, and put a hand on your shoulder as you started to stand.
“No! Please stay a while. Don’t pay Joel any mind.” She introduced him as her partner and didn’t specify if this was a business partner or an intimate one, and you didn’t ask. Tess looked at Joel again, smiling.
“Don’t leave on account of me, sugar. Maybe I’ll join you ladies. That alright?” He took the chair across from you at the small table, and Tess sat another glass on the table in front of Joel and poured his drink before refilling your glass. “Tess tells me you’re new to the QZ, staying over in the shelter. That’s a dangerous place for a young girl. ‘Specially one on her own.”
“It hasn’t been too bad so far” you spoke, pushing down the nerves that had started to stir in your belly. “I think it’s all starting to work out.” You smiled at Joel and then at Tess. “Tess has been a lot of help.”
Joel smiled back, and his knee bumped yours under the table. Your face and chest felt warm, either from the alcohol or from the way Joel hadn’t taken his eyes off you since he sat down. His gaze began to feel heavy, it made you feel like you should keep talking, even though he was silent now. You were grateful when you felt Tess’s hand back on your shoulder, heavier this time.
“Are you feeling ok, sweetheart? Drinks catching up with you?” She chuckled “Maybe you should take the couch for the night, I’m not sure we can take you back to the shelter like this.”
She was probably right. The alcohol had made you feel hot and floaty and disoriented. It had been a long time since you drank like this and on a mostly empty stomach. You probably shouldn’t have accepted that third drink, but it felt so good to just hang out with a friend.
“I don’t want to be a bother…”
“No bother, sugar.” Joel spoke. “Sleep on the couch and Tess can walk you back in the morning. I’m sure she’ll get you to help her carry supplies while she’s at it. This is a win for her.” Joel sounded reasonable and his confidence was disarming you.
“Might as well have another drink since you’re staying!” Tess chirped as she topped up all of your glasses. You smiled into your glass and never noticed the look that passed between Joel and Tess.
Joel picked up the three glasses and moved them to the coffee table in front of the shabby couch so you could all sit more comfortably. You didn’t even remember walking to the living room. You were all talking, laughing, smiling. You head was spinning, but you liked feeling so relaxed.
The next thing you remember is feeling Tess sliding closer to you on the couch and putting her hand on your thigh while she leaned in to place a light kiss at the corner of your mouth. Her lips were soft and warm, and you didn’t want her to stop. You felt another hand on your thigh and looked down to see Joel’s wide, paddle-like hand gripping you. Your eyes followed his arm up to his neck and his jaw and his lips. They were close to yours and in an instant they were pressed to yours. His kiss was harder than Tess’s. More insistent.
You felt uneasy again, but once more pushed your feelings aside, deciding to just go with it. You’ve got new friends now and they like to drink and kiss. Maybe that’s how it is in the QZ; maybe you liked drinking and kissing too. You kissed him back and felt him hum approvingly.
Tess was still beside you. “You know, Joel can help you. He helped me out when I came to the QZ.” She spoke softly into your ear, and moved her hand from your thigh to the buttons of your shirt, her other hand wrapping around you to meet it and she nimbly undid a button, playing with the fabric of your shirt and running her fingertips lightly over your newly exposed skin before moving to the next button. Her mouth went to your neck as she worked, kissing your soft skin.
You swallowed thickly and your chest heaved. Is this really happening? Joel leaned back and watched Tess making quick work of your clothes, and when he spoke his voice sounded lower and slower.
“I know it’s hard around here for pretty young girls. Know it’s not safe. Maybe y’need someone to look out for you.” Had you noticed his accent before? It was southern and you found it really alluring, the way some of his words melted together. “It’s good to stick t’gether in a place like this. Have somebody on your side.”
You couldn’t form words. Tess had made her way to your bra and was running her fingers under the band, your nipples hardening at her touch. Joel’s eyes were trained on your tits, and his hand gripped your thigh higher, his thumb pushing between your thighs, dangerously close to your now soaked and throbbing pussy. He kissed you again, tilting his chin to meet your lips and kissing deeply. Your lips parted and you felt his tongue in your mouth.
Your heart was pounding. You licked at his tongue gently, and he swallowed your soft moans. Tess had one hand on your stomach and one hand cupping your breast now. She whispered sweetly, “Why don’t you bring your stuff back here tomorrow? You can help us and we can help you.”
It sounded perfectly reasonable. You nodded, eyes closed, leaning your head back to kiss her again, letting your lips linger, soaking up her sweetness before tipping back into Joel’s kiss. His hands were on your hips, squeezing gently, and Tess was popping the button on your jeans, easing the zipper down.
You wished you could reach her to return her touches in kind, but Joel had a firm grip on you now, so you just unbuttoned his shirt, hoping it was ok with Tess, you still weren’t clear on what kind of partnership they had and you didn’t want to misstep.
“He’s handsome, isn’t he?” She whispered. “I think he likes you.” That sounded like permission.
Joel’s thumbs hooked under your waistband and tugged your jeans down, pushing you back into Tess’s chest as he slid them down your thighs, pulling your panties with them.
He sat back on the couch, palming his stiffening cock, and marveling at the sight before him. “Look at our girl, Tess. Real pretty.”
Tess hummed in agreement and squeezed your tits together, her own naked chest pressing into your back.
You’d never had a threesome, but this was the hottest thing you’d ever done. You loved feeling like their play thing. Whatever was between them, you didn’t care. You had never been so turned on.
“You feel good, sugar? Gonna let me touch you the way you need?” “
“Yes, Joel, want to feel you.”
He chuckled and groaned at your enthusiasm. “Lean back, baby.”
You were laying on the couch between them now, your head in Tess’s naked lap, one hand holding hers, the other running through Joel’s thick wavy hair as he pressed his tongue against your wet seam.
Tess’s hand moved between your tits, massaging gently and running her thumb over your peaks. She lowered her mouth to yours, kissing you softly and slowly, your tongues mingling, your senses overwhelmed at their combined touches. Joel was working away at your wet cunt, alternating between long slow licks and quick firm flicks of his tongue over your swollen clit. The sounds of sucking, smacking, and soft wet sounds filled the air, it was pornographic and you wished you could see what you all must look like.
You were already panting when Joel pushed a thick callused finger into your willing entrance, and the sudden fullness forcing a low moan from deep in your throat.
You felt that lovely tightening in your belly, sending sparks down your hips, and building to a crescendo. Just as you approached the edge, your vision becoming dark around the corners, he slipped a second finger in, pulling you tight and working them in deeply, and sucked hard on your bundle of nerves.
You were a goner. You bucked and gasped, your head falling back into Tess’s lap.
“Good girl, baby. Good fuckin’ girl.” Joel slid his fingers out but gently brushed his slick fingers over your swollen lips, making you suck them clean as you rode out your orgasm. “You picked a good one this time, Tess. Let’s see if she can handle a cock now.”
He was so lewd! You’d blush if you weren’t still spinning out from your climax.
Tess slid off the couch and sat beside it, scooting down so that her head was near your hips.
“I knew you’d love her, Joel. She’s gorgeous. Just your type, and so sweet.”
Joel paused to smile at Tess, and leaned down to kiss her. It was a tender kiss, the first time you saw them touching each other, you realized. It made you feel a little awkward to be laying on the couch totally nude next to them. It was over as quickly as it began, though and Joel turned his attention back to you. He leaned down on one elbow to support his weight while the other hand cradled your jaw as he kissed you, letting you taste yourself on his lips and tongue.
He groaned and let his hips drop against your core, and you let your knees fall open to accommodate him. He was still dressed, you never got further than unbottoning a few buttons of his denim shirt. You could feel his length pressing against your core, you slipped your hand down to palm him.
He felt big. Big, big. Too big, you worried. He must have sensed your hesitation.
“Want to see it, baby? See if you think you can handle my big cock?”
Tess was behind him now and wrapped her arms around his waist to unbuckle his belt and release him from his jeans.
“You’re in for a treat, sweetheart. Joel knows what he’s doing. Might be sore tomorrow though.” She smiled at the last part and reached down to grip his cock. Joel turned to kiss her once more, then she returned to her spot beside the couch.
Joel planted open mouthed kisses along your chin and neck, trailed down your chest, his movements unhurried, like he was just taking you in. Your skin cooled under each kiss when he moved to the next and underscored your arousal. He made his way to your breasts and sucked your nipple into his mouth as he squeezed and pressed the other, he sucked firmly, and nibbled down the side of your breast before turning the same attention to the next. Joel drove you mad with desire, you lifted your hips, wanting to feel his turgid member against your aching pussy.
“You can’t wait to get fucked, can you baby girl? You gonna beg for it, sweet thing?”
“Please, Joel!”
“Please what, baby?”
You groaned into his shoulder. “Please, Joel. Fuck me please. I need to feel your cock. Want it so bad, Joel.”
You were breathless and wanton, Joel hummed approvingly.
“You sure ask nicely. I just might give it to you.”
You whimpered and drove your hips up again, this time you felt his hot, thick length slide over your folds. You could come just from that alone, but you were desperate to feel full of him. You couldn’t stay quiet and Joel seemed to feed off of your noise. Moaning, panting, crying out his name, it drove him wild. He loved hearing what he did to you, loved that he had the power to turn you into a needy mess.
He reached down to slap his cock against your seeping and sensitive folds, paying special attention to your clit, making you cry out once more.
When he couldn’t wait any longer, he pressed the smooth, thick head to your entrance.
“Fuck yourself on my cock, sugar. Go ahead. You want it, you take it.”
Tess giggled at that. She had been quiet, watching and lazily rubbing her own naked sex, enjoying her front row seat to you and Joel’s erotic coupling. She slid her fingers down to gather the pooling slick, and spread it over her clit. She would make herself come when you did. You lifted your hips and tried in vain to push him inside you. You couldn’t get enough leverage, you were just driving yourself crazy, he was right there but you couldn’t get him inside, no matter how your wiggled. You broke.
“Please, Joel!” You were desperate now, out of your head.
Joel kissed your neck once more. “Alright, baby. But remember, I warned you.”
He pushed slowly and firmly, working the head just past your entrance and you were frozen beneath him. The sting of him stretching you was unlike anything you’d ever felt before, and you knew you couldn’t take him all.
Joel was still, knowing you’d need time to get accustomed to his size. When he felt you move against him again, he continued, pushing further now, and backing out just slightly before going deeper. Two steps forward, one step back.
“So goddamn tight, sugar. Ain’t you ever been fucked by a big cock before?”
You couldn’t answer, but the work “gigantic” came to mind, along with memories of your first boyfriend, who came in his pants before you could have sex, and the guy after him who had fucked you, but who was so interested in his own joy that he never made you cum.
You felt far away from everything that was happening. Eyes closed, mouth open, eyebrows furrowed, the only thing in the universe now was you and Joel. Everything else fell away and was swallowed by darkness.
You snapped back when you felt Tess reach between you and Joel, seeking your clit to rub gentle circles, distracting you from the stinging further down. Her touch was just what you needed. You relaxed your hips and felt them open a little, giving Joel more room to work. He quickened his pace, his own climax gathering in his belly, he was less gentle now and you were panting hard, no coherent words forming. With one more thrust, he was all the way seated, and you could feel him at your cervix.
He felt pride at how he had you so fucked out. He looked down at you, cheeks and chest flushed, sweat beading on your forehead, lips swollen and puffy. He swung his hips back and fucked into you again and again. You were close. Tess had turned her attention to your swollen, sensitive clit again, and was kissing the side of your face, your neck, your ear and whispering praise to you.
“You’re taking him so well, baby. Look how you take that cock. You’re so fucking beautiful like this. I want you to come for us, babe. Come while he’s got that huge cock buried deep in your pussy.”
Her words and her touch and his heavy strokes were too much. Your body jerked, and your orgasm took control. Your legs locked around him and kept him inside you. When the crashing wave subsided, Joel resumed his thrusts, faster now, getting sloppy and out of rhythm. He was close.
“Where you want me sugar? Don’t say inside.”
You answered him with a moan and he pulled out fast, rubbing out his orgasm against your hip with a deep, throaty groan.
“You’re perfect, baby girl. Absolutely perfect.”
Joel and Tess leaned close and you shared kisses before Tess disappeared and returned quickly with a wet towel for each of you and a few glasses of water. Joel cleaned himself, then you. His touch was gentle and caring. You sipped your water in a daze, unsure what to do or say. You’d just fucked Tess’s boyfriend or husband or something with her blessing, and you’re not sure what to do now.
You excused yourself to the bathroom and grabbed your shirt and panties. Neither of them were getting dressed, so you just slipped on your shirt without buttoning it, and put your panties back on. You already felt your hips and inner thighs aching, and you were feeling sleepy. When you returned to the living room, Joel had taken up the middle seat on the couch, and Tess was tucked under his right arm, nuzzling his chest. You sat on his left, and he pulled you onto his chest as well. He was serene as you and Tess laced your fingers together.
You must have fallen asleep. When you woke up, you were still on the couch, a pillow under your head and a blanket tucked around you. Your head was pounding and you felt sticky, sore, and like you needed a shower.
The memory of the night before flooded back, and you felt something like embarrassment, but not quite. You didn’t regret it, at least what you remembered. You wondered if they’d meant what they said about helping them and them helping you. You wondered if that was just referring to the sex. It seemed like they meant something more, but you didn’t want to bring it up and make things weird. You weren’t even sure how you could help them, but you decided to think about that later.
You yawned and stretched and when Tess saw you moving, she brought you more water.
“Hey sweetie. You feel ok?” There she was. The kind Tess you knew. It was reassuring to hear her talk so sweetly to you. “Joel went out to find breakfast for us, then he’s going to go with you to the shelter to get the rest of your things. We talked it over and decided you should stay here. Until FEDRA finds you a place, you’d be safer and more comfortable with us.” How could you argue with that?
“Really, Tess. The shelter is fine. I’m sure it won’t be long and—“
“You’re not going to convince Joel of any of that, so you might as well just get your stuff and bring it here.”
You didn’t have a response.
#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller x you#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller fic#joel miller x reader#joel miller smut#Joel x Tess x reader#joel miller tlou#joel miller x tess servopoulos#pedro pascal character fanfiction#pedro pascal character smut#pedro pascal characters#bat writes#smut#joel x reader#joel miller
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HAPPY 100 FICS / 1000 KUDOS DARLING
Could I please get Firstprince at some sort of pet store?
💜💜💜💜
(HAPPY BIRTHDAY CRICKET!!!! This is the fill for your fandom fest request of firstprince at a pet store. Thank you for being such an excellent doc gremlin and wonderful friend, I hope this fic brightens your day!!)
The Hazards of Unsolicited Toy Advice
(T, 2.2k, read it below or on AO3)
There’s a staggeringly gorgeous man loitering by a display of chew toys.
The sight of him momentarily brings Henry to a complete halt, which confuses David. He reaches the end of his lead and looks back at Henry with his head tilted, clearly wondering what could have interrupted their usual pilgrimage to the elaborate collection of bones, pigs’ ears, and various treats that make this store worth going out of their way to visit. Unfortunately for David, Henry needs a moment. He knows he’s being kind of weird, but surely he can be forgiven. It’s not every day one comes across the personification of pure sunlight in a pet store.
The man doesn’t seem to notice Henry’s watching, thankfully. His full lips pout thoughtfully as he pokes idly at a few toys, picking them up and putting them down again without much intention. A few dark curls fall forward over his forehead as he props one hand on his devastatingly narrow waist, perfectly emphasized by the way his tailored button-down is tucked into navy chinos that hug a truly perfect arse.
David chuffs softly, pulling Henry out of his reverie. Right. The beautiful man looks like he could use some decision-making assistance, perhaps. Henry will take whatever tiny opening he can get.
“If you need some advice on toys, I have some experience,” Henry said, only realizing the way it sounds once the words are out of his mouth.
Unfortunately, the beautiful man does not miss the innuendo. He looks up at Henry, warm brown eyes fringed by the longest eyelashes Henry’s ever seen flashing with mirth as his face breaks into a grin and, oh, if Henry was in trouble before, it was nothing on this. The man’s entire face lights up, nearly blinding in its brilliance, and Henry’s stomach swoops.
“Do you, now?” the man returns as his lips settle into a smirk. He looks Henry up and down, and Henry doesn’t think he’s imagining the interest in his expression.
Henry’s cheeks are heating, but he holds the man’s gaze. “Yes. David is a bit of a connoisseur.”
The man’s eyebrows shoot upward. “David? Is that your…”
“My dog, of course,” Henry says, gesturing toward where David is sitting obediently at his feet. “He’s got quite the collection.”
“Dog named David, ok,” the man mutters, laughing a little to himself. “Does he have a favorite?”
Henry reaches out and plucks a rubber toy shaped like a duck and hands it to the man. “This one is probably his first choice.” At his feet, David makes a noise of interest, and Henry glances down at him. “You have this one at home, Davey.”
The man turns the toy over in his hands, but before he can say anything an employee walks up and hands him a plain brown paper bag with the top stapled shut and some numbers written on the side.
“Anything else, sir?” she asks.
“No, that’s it. Thanks,” the man says, then looks at Henry and lifts up the duck. “Thanks for the advice.”
“Yes, well, if you need any further toy suggestions, we’re here regularly,” Henry manages to say, and it sounds like just as much of a come-on as he means it to.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” the man replies, smirking, then heads off to the front of the store.
~~~~~
Henry runs into the beautiful man again a couple weeks later, standing in the same place as last time. He’s wearing a t-shirt and jeans today with his curls combed and tamed, and is no less stunning for it (though Henry’s always been partial to curls). Today, Henry is slightly more prepared; he’s thought about—ok, fantasized about—running into the man again. This time he’s getting a name, at the very least.
“So, was it a success?” he asks as he walks up to the man. Warmth blooms in his chest at the look of recognition that takes over the man’s face, though it’s quickly followed by a furrowed brow.
“What?”
“The toy. Did your dog like it?”
“Oh. Yeah, definitely,” the man says, bobbing his head a little. “Any other suggestions?”
Henry lets his gaze skim over the toys until he sees the plush strawberry David’s been favoring lately and picks it up, but the man shakes his head apologetically. “No soft toys.”
“A penchant for shredding them apart?” Henry guesses.
“Hard to keep clean,” he says, wrinkling his nose.
“Always an important consideration for any toy,” Henry agrees sagely, only for the man to raise his eyebrows again. It seems to happen with alarming regularity. As does the way Henry’s cheeks heat. He clears his throat and picks up a rubber toy with numerous large holes punched through it. “What about something like this? You can put treats in these for a bit of a challenge.”
The man looks at the toy consideringly before taking it from Henry. “That one could work.”
“I’m Henry, by the way.”
The man opens his mouth, only to be interrupted by another employee with a brown paper bag. After accepting it, he looks back at Henry. “Well, thanks again, Henry,” he says with a little wave, leaving Henry decidedly unsatisfied with the outcome of this encounter.
~~~~~
“The toy with the holes was a hit.”
Henry turns to see the beautiful man approaching him this time. He’s already got his brown paper bag clutched in one hand this time, and his other stuffed in the pocket of his jeans.
“That’s good to hear,” Henry replies, smiling. At his feet, David starts wagging his tail, apparently having by now decided that the man is a friend. “You’re back again.”
“Turns out you have good taste in toys,” the man says, shrugging a little.
“You’re not the first person to tell me that,” Henry says without really thinking about it, and the eyebrows shoot up again. Henry coughs. “I mean, dog toys.”
He does not mean dog toys.
The man grins wickedly, like he is not fooled. “Well, be that as it may, I thought I might try my luck a third time.”
Henry thinks that it’s about time that he tried his luck, actually. “How about, you tell me your name, and I’ll give you another suggestion,” he counters.
“Oh, I wasn’t aware this toy advice came at a price.”
“Too steep for you?”
“Nah, that’s a bargain, sweetheart,” the man replies. “I’m Alex.”
“Alex,” Henry echoes softly, tasting the name on his tongue, and Alex’s lips part slightly. “And what about your dog?”
It seems to take Alex a moment to parse his question. “Oh, Miss Piggy. She came with the name. I adopted her from a friend of a friend that was trying to get rid of her.”
“That was good of you.”
Alex shrugs. “She’s low maintenance, and it’s kind of nice to talk to someone else in my empty apartment. Not that she talks back.”
Henry tries to suppress the little thrill of hope at the fact that Alex doesn’t live with anyone. “I understand,” he says. “David isn’t much of a conversationalist, but he’s an excellent listener.”
“How long have you had him?”
“Since he was a puppy.”
“So you chose the name David,” Alex says, a touch incredulously.
“I did,” Henry confirms. “It’s after Bowie.”
Alex blinks, like he’s re-evaluating something. “Oh. That’s cool.” He crouches down, which of course makes David start squirming in desire to get to Alex, but he stays sitting next to Henry’s feet. “He’s very well-behaved. Can I pet him?”
“He’d like that.”
Alex reaches a hand out to scratch behind David’s ears, which David immediately presses into, his tail thumping rapidly on the floor. “Who’s a good boy?” Alex coos, and Henry honestly counts himself lucky that Alex’s soft smile is directed at David instead of him; he might not survive it. But then Alex looks up at him in his current position practically kneeling on the floor, and Henry comes very close to shuffling off this mortal coil right then and there anyway.
“So,” Alex says as he stands again, brushing his hands off on his trousers, “what kind of toy advice do I get for my name?”
Henry very nearly suggests some quite different toy advice in response to that question, but manages to bring his brain back online at the last second. “Well,” he says, picking up a tube-shaped rubber toy, “if she liked the treat toy, then this one is a similar idea.” He holds it out to Alex, but he doesn’t let go when Alex grabs the other end. “I have another request.”
The eyebrows go again. “This is an expensive toy.”
Henry shakes his head. “Not a price. But I’d very much like to take you to dinner, if you’d be interested.”
The dimple in Alex’s cheek deepens and he drops his gaze before looking up at Henry through his eyelashes. Christ, but this man is lethal.
“I’m interested.”
~~~~~
Alex tugs Henry in by the front of his jacket as he backs up against the front door to his flat, and Henry wastes no time before sealing their mouths together again. At the end of their first date, Alex had dropped him off outside his building and pressed a soft kiss to the corner of Henry’s mouth; it had been utterly lovely, but Henry has to admit he’s very much enjoying this, the conclusion to their second date. Alex’s tongue in his mouth and the cut of his teeth, Alex’s hands grabbing onto his waist, Alex’s thigh pressing in between his.
“You wanna come in, baby?” Alex asks in the gaps between their kisses.
The endearment makes something warm settle in his gut, and he grins against Alex’s lips. “Thought you’d never ask, love.”
They stumble through the door, and despite the fact that Alex has now attached himself to Henry’s throat, Henry finds himself distracted, listening for the tell-tale sound of claws on the hardwood. Nothing comes, though. Perhaps Miss Piggy is a heavy sleeper?
“What’s wrong?” Alex asks, clearly noticing his inattention.
“Sorry,” Henry says, shaking his head. “I was expecting your dog.”
For some reason, that makes Alex look down and bite his lip, and when he finally meets Henry’s eyes again, he looks decidedly sheepish. “I, um. Don’t have a dog.”
Henry blinks at him. Opens and closes his mouth. “You don’t?”
Alex shakes his head. “No.”
“So you let me suggest you dog toys…”
“Because when a ridiculously hot guy wants to talk to you about dog toys, you talk about dog toys,” Alex says, a little helplessly.
It’s honestly hard to be anything but insanely flattered, but he still doesn’t quite understand. “So all of that about adopting Miss Piggy, and the toy reviews… it was all made up?”
“Oh, no, it wasn’t,” Alex says, nonsensically. Then he takes Henry by the hand and leads him into the living room, where there’s a terrarium set up along one wall. Amongst the water dish and a fake-rock hut, Henry spots the duck, and the toy with the holes, and the tube, which has the head and tail of a small brown-and-tan-patterned snake sticking out of one end. “Miss Piggy is a snake,” Alex tells him. “A western hognose, to be specific. Hence the name, I guess. I was in the pet store buying frozen mice for her the times I saw you. I did adopt her from a friend of a friend who didn’t want her anymore, and she does like the toys, as you can see.”
Henry bends down to get a closer look at the snake, who has big eyes and a little turned-up snout. “I never thought a snake could be cute,” he says, unaccountably and unexpectedly charmed by the small creature.
“She’s a drama queen, is what she is,” Alex says. When Henry looks at him questioningly, he explains, “When they feel threatened, they either pretend to be a viper or play dead. Turn over onto their back, tongue hanging out and everything. She hasn’t done that since right after I got her, though. I think she’s happier here.”
Alex gets a kind of soft, fond smile on his face as he talks about the snake, and Henry can’t help but be ridiculously charmed by that, too. He takes a step closer to Alex and slips his arms around his waist, pulling him in and pressing a kiss to his temple, and Alex’s smile widens.
“What was that for?” he asks.
“You care for her,” Henry says simply. “It’s endearing.”
“Of course I do,” Alex replies. “How could you not love that face?”
“Mm,” Henry hums in agreement. “I suppose this means we don’t have to worry about her waking us early in the morning to go outside.”
Alex’s eyes sparkle as he turns in Henry’s arms, looping his own around Henry’s shoulders. “You planning on spending the night, baby? What about David?”
“Is it terribly forward if I said I already arranged to have someone take care of him tonight?” Henry asks, biting his lower lip.
“Not any more than what I was gonna ask you,” Alex says, smirking as his fingers play idly with a flippy piece of Henry’s hair.
“Which is?”
“Well, y’know, I wanted some advice.” He leans in close, until his lips are brushing the angle of Henry’s jaw, and murmurs, “On a different kind of toy.”
Henry doesn’t need to be asked twice.
#rwrb#red white and blue#firstprince#rwrb fic#rwrb fanfic#firstprince fic#firstprince fanfic#alex claremont diaz#henry fox mountchristen windsor#my fic#chamel's fandom fest
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Hii, can you do random headcanons human au about lightning and doc? Like a father/son relationship?
Yes! I can do that for you! Thanks for asking ^^
LIGHTNING & DOC FATHER/SON HEADCANONS(HUMANIZED)?!? REAL?!:
Im so sorry there aren’t too many 😭 for some reason I’ve been struggling with concepts so if I think of any good ones later, I’ll add them back here! I hope you like these my friend!
- In my AU at least, Lightning never had a stable home-life, constantly jumping from foster home to foster home and sometimes said foster homes wouldn’t be the best. I’d assume thanks to his unfortunate circumstances, he never really had anybody take care of him until Mack and Doc arrived- even then there was only so much Mack could do or say in fear of getting fired or something.
- Doc loves Lightning(this is obvious), but the kid cannot cook for the life of him so whenever Lightning does something nice for Doc and makes food for him, and it ends up genuinely being shit or inedible, Doc will still eat it anyways because of how happy Lightning looks when he does.
- Lightning’s love language is gifts and making things for other people(even if he thinks he’s good at it, but really isn’t). I’d imagine Doc has a lot of random nicknacks and bracelets from Lightning lmao.
- I think that the first time Lightning accidentally called Doc Dad he got so scared and embarrassed that he fucking bolted out the door, ran to his 95, and raced outta town like a bat out of hell. He’s like “fuck I can’t go back and show my face! Doc’s gonna think I’m weird or something!!!!” But then doc’s like,”You think of me as a dad?! 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰” and immediately goes out after Lightning and brings him home- possibly having a heart to heart or something.
- Doc will do very small things that mean the world to Lightning, such as taking him to the store with him, going on small trips with him, just generally making Lightning feel wanted and just spending time with him.
- This one’s not necessarily Lightning and Doc only and is sorta canon, but Doc is everyone’s father 💀💀💀. Doesn’t matter who you are, as soon as you step foot in Radiator Springs once and you plan to stay for more than half an hour, then you are his kid. You have been adopted.
- Doc gave Lightning a bedtime. And Lightning was not happy abt it 😭. Lightning, despite being a mostly functioning adult, was still taking horrible care of himself(likely due to Harv’s harmful teaching and shitty “philosophies”. Fuck that guy) and would go to bed at seriously ungodly hours, even during race weekends which was a no no for obvious reasons. There was also the fact that Lightning got snippy and short whenever he didn’t sleep and everyone on the team was simply too nice to say anything until Doc did. I’d imagine it was because Lightning decided it would be a good idea to mouth off to the man after a race that went awry and he said stuff he didn’t mean. Doc would likely then realize the kid needed to have a nap before he collapsed or whatever then magically after said nap he was a bit better. Doc then decided that the kid’s bedtime would be 10:30 on the dot. Lightning, deciding he was an adult, complained to the man to which Doc replied with how shitty the kid had been acting which led to Lightning having a realization and leading to him apologizing his team who were more than forgiving and understood.
- Lightning’s a fuckingn iPad kid and Doc knows it and uses it to his advantage 💀💀. Whenever Doc just needs a second to himself or wants to disappear without worrying Lightning(a note or two would be written and left on the counter as well) he’ll leave a documentary- likely about prehistoric animals or modern animals- playing on the TV that will invest Lightning until Doc gets back.
- While having a stable father figure is new to Lightning, having a son-figure is for Doc as well. After Lightning called him dad, Doc has been reading every parenting guide book and news article and children’s mental health guide he could get his hands on. He didn’t want to mess up with the kid and he was still young(Doc knew Lightning didn’t have an all-too stable home-life, why else would he never talk to his parents or family members if he even had any?) and decently impressionable- plus there was all that deep-rooted shit Harv fucked Lightning up with. Doc did not want to hurt the kid and so he did his best with what he could, but it was hard since Lightning wasn’t exactly a child. Doc does his best anyways.
- Doc always gives 101% of his attention to Lightning, even when he’s physically doing something else such as making coffee. Doc loves listening to Lightning’s sometimes nonsensical rambles and rants about dinosaurs(Lightning is 100% a Dinosaur kid I know one when I see one for I am also one) and will listen when he starts nervously rambling about them during a race as well. He’ll always listen to his rants and stories, doing his best to keep up with the youngster. He’s glad Lightning loves sharing his interests with him and everyone in Radiator Springs. Lightning himself loves that he’s allowed to just keep talking all he wants and so he does, but he doesn’t have to “make sure” they’re still listening like he’d have to with Harv or shitty old friends of his because they’d all be paying attention anyways, even while busy. It made him feel all warm and fuzzy inside.
- Doc teaches Lightning how to do DIY shit or how to fix things(aside from cars. I’d imagine they bond on that. Maybe this one can be changed to Doc taught Lightning about the insides of a car? Like “if you wanna race, you can’t just know the pedals and wheel. You gotta know everything about your car” or something. Little lesson yk?) like doorframes or putting together IKEA furniture(screaming and crying). I’d imagine he loves teaching Lightning how to do woodshop and Lightning loves making little sculptures.
- For his first Father’s Day in Radiator Springs, Lightning decided to get the entire town involved since he wasn’t entirely sure what Doc liked and didn’t like that he could get the man. With his little dilemma, he went to everyone in the town getting input from everybody- some ranging from getting Doc an entire new tool kit or some sort of organizer thing to a nice set of overalls Doc could wear when fixing up the Hornet or working on projects. I like to think that maybe the entire town also get him things and nicknacks since everybody realized how much of a father Doc was. I think Lightning would be like,”fuck what do I get him 😰😰” Sally would be like,”BRO JUST GET HIM SOMETHING. HE’LL LOVE IT EITHER WAY ESPECIALLY IF IT COMES FROM YOU!” And then he decides to get Doc everything the others said anyways to which Doc is surprised and proves Sally right by saying something like,”Kid, you’re the only gift I need.” Or something corny. Maybe even like,”Kid, these are all wonderful, but you didn’t have to get all of these just for me.” Or sumn. Doc 101% uses all of the items everyday tho.
I’m sorry if these are a little short I’ll add some more later if k come up with good ones lol
#cars 2006#humanized cars#human lightning mcqueen#cars 1#humanization#lightning mcqueen#doc hudson#headcanons#cars headcanons#humanized doc hudson
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