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#I just wanted to actually check that I wrote it in and then took a screenshot so that you wouldn't have to look for the post again
midnanoire · 5 months
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all non participating countries have their flags banned at eurovision
I'm well aware. I wrote that in the translation.
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bro im trying to write the fanfic i fucking forgot dyslexia existed
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gaytobymeres · 2 years
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writing an email in response to a very kind garden historian who has sent me so much information, and im paranoid that 1) i cant write well or clearly, 2) that im writing an email that is so long and boring, and 3) i just feel it might be unnessecary. or maybe im making unjust claims (except im not really claiming anything im just saying 'theres evidence that points to x instead of y') but ive never properly studied history or researched like this so i do feel a bit out of my depth
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nikkento-writes · 2 months
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Babysitter - Part 1
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Pairing: dad!Toji x babysitter!reader
Rating: Explicit – MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
Word Count: ~1.7k
cw: age gap (reader is 21, Toji is in his 30s), language, cheating, smut – PIV sex (doggy style), breeding kink, daddy kink
Summary: You're hired to babysit little Megumi for the summer, but you end up taking care of his father, Toji, as well.
Author’s Notes: This is repost from my old blog! I initially got this as a request and it became my first Toji fic ever, and certainly not my last lol. I'm posting this again because I actually wrote a Part 2, check it out! Thanks for reading! Divider credit to @/fic-dumpster.
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You stand in front of a quaint house, checking your watch for the time. It’s been almost ten minutes now since you knocked, no answer. You gave the number from the listing a call, still nothing. Rolling your eyes, you take a seat on the steps leading to the door, waiting.
It’s the summer before you head back to university for your senior year. In an attempt to make some extra cash, you took a job as a babysitter through local ads in the paper. The first two clients were completely normal; this one is already leaving a bad taste in your mouth. 
Fifteen minutes have passed. You try once more, pounding on the door with your fist as loud as you can. Heel turned, ready to leave, it suddenly swings open, revealing a muscular man with black hair, glaring at you. “What the fuck do you want?” 
You step back, startled by his intimidating presence. Stuttering, you answer, “I’m the babysitter.”
He continues to stare at you, eyes following your body up and down, studying it. “Babysitter?”
Before you can explain any further, you hear a car rolling into the driveway. A woman in professional attire steps out quickly. “I’m so sorry I’m late!” She rushes towards you, holding her hand out to shake yours. “We spoke on the phone. I got stuck in traffic, I’m so sorry.”
You smile at her. “It’s okay.”
She faces the man, expression switching from cheery to dreary in an instant. “Toji, where is Megumi?”
He scratches his head. “Huh?”
“Megumi. Our child.”
He sighs. “Right. Uh, I’ll go get him.” 
While he’s gone, the woman pulls you aside, speaking in a hushed voice. “That’s Toji, my husband and Megumi’s father. Unfortunately, he’s a complete deadbeat. That’s why I want to hire you. I started my new job and I need someone to take care of Megumi while I’m gone during the day.”
She swallows hard, blinking to fight off oncoming tears. “I have no one. I’ve been shunned by my family, my husband doesn’t give a shit about ours, and I’m all alone trying to give Megumi a good life. I know this is a lot to ask, but I’m desperate. This is just until I can save enough money to hire a full-time nanny.”
She grips onto your wrist with both her hands, begging for help. Truthfully, it’s a lot to unravel, more drama than you anticipated. But the anguish in her eyes tugs at your heartstrings. Plus, knowing it’s temporary doesn’t make it seem so difficult. How bad can it be? “Okay. I’ll do it.”
Relief washes over her. “Oh thank god. Thank you. Thank you. Let’s go inside and I can give you a tour.” She leads you through the entrance, removing her shoes as you follow her. “Oh, and one more thing.”
“Sure.”
“Toji is home most of the day, but he’s always couped up in his room, doing god knows what. Just leave a meal or two outside his door twice a day. That should be enough.”
“Huh?!” 
She glances at you with a nervous smile on her face. “Yeah. I told you, he’s good for nothing.”
You don’t respond while you maneuver through the house, barely paying attention while she shows you around. It almost sounds like you’ll be babysitting two children…
~~~
The first two weeks of your new job go by smoothly. Megumi is an adorable baby; he’s almost two-years-old with hair as black as his father’s. While he never really smiles, he doesn’t cry either, expression usually stern, unless he needs a diaper change. He’s self-sufficient, always immersed by his own toys until it’s time to eat. Overall, he’s easy. 
Toji, on the other hand, is another story. 
You follow his wife’s instructions, leaving two meals outside his door, breakfast and lunch. And this asshole has the audacity to critique it! The bread wasn’t toasted enough. The eggs were too runny. There wasn’t enough seasoning on the meat. All this criticism while each plate is licked clean, not a crumb to spot. He’s never even uttered a simple thank you. 
But what he lacks in social skills or personality, he makes up for in his physique. In between meals, he works out in the living room lifting weights, doing push-ups, sit-ups, and pull-ups at the frame of the door. It lasts for over an hour, and by the end of it, he’s shirtless, dripping with sweat. You’ve done everything in your power to avoid staring but it doesn’t prevent your mind from conjuring all types of lewd thoughts about him. You’re ashamed to admit that he is physically attractive, only because everything else about him is utter trash. Still, it doesn’t hurt to look, right?
On the third week, there’s a shift in energy between you two. When he isn’t working out or going out to meet with his sketchy friends, he’s usually couped up in his bedroom, ignoring you and Megumi. This morning, he actually joins you in the kitchen. You stare blankly at him, stunned by his sudden appearance. Megumi is unfazed by his father as he tries to pull your wrist towards him to get a spoonful of mushed up peas. 
When he catches you, Toji glares. “What?”
“Um, nothing. Just surprised to see you here.” You clear your throat, focusing back on the baby. 
He rolls his eyes. “This is my house. I can do whatever I want.”
“Yes, of course. Sir.”
For some reason, this triggers him. He stands up abruptly, stepping to you, leaning his face towards yours. The scar on the corner of his lip twitches when he gives you a wicked grin. “That’s right. I’m in charge here.”
You flinch from him, scared, maybe even slightly aroused. He’s intense, that’s for sure. But part of you finds it exhilarating to be in his presence. 
Megumi whines for more food, to which Toji grabs the utensil from your hands to start feeding him. “Damn kid, he’s hungry all the fucking time.”
You sit up in your seat, regaining your composure. “You shouldn’t curse in front of children.”
He faces you, chuckling. “Curse? Seriously? What are you, five?”
You cross your arms, answering, “I’m twenty-one.”
“Interesting.” There’s that naughty smirk again, as if he’s thinking something obscene in that twisted head of his. And while you should be turned off, you’re not. You squeeze your legs together, pussy throbbing between your thighs. And of course, he notices this. He must, because he leans forward, lips grazing your ear, whispering, “Come by my room whenever Megumi is taking his nap. That’s an order.”
~~~
This is bad. Very, very bad. 
You're supposed to be better than this. Clearly, you aren’t, because you’re currently getting railed by your employer’s husband while his child sleeps peacefully in the next room.
“Fuck, this pussy is tight,” he groans, pumping his thick cock in and out of you. You’re bent over the edge of the bed, his hips smacking against your ass as he thrusts into you. He’s got a tight grip on your hips, nails digging into your flesh, pounding away at your greedy pussy, absolutely drenched with arousal and lube. Your face is sticky with perspiration, pillow soaked with sweat and drool. It’s a fucking mess, but it doesn’t matter, because all you can think about is Toji fucking you until you’re seeing stars. Until your head is empty and nothing but his fat cock is occupying your thoughts.
“God, you’re squeezing me so fucking hard, princess. You gonna come again?”
You nod erratically, reaching your fingers to your clit. He smacks it away, doing it himself, his thumb flicking against your swollen bud. “Fucking come on my cock then. Make it nice and creamy for me, got it?”
His cock is buried deep inside you, hitting your sweet spot over and over until you unravel, gushing around him once more. You’ve lost count on how many orgasms you’ve had in this short amount of time. 
After your climax, he doesn’t pull out, fucking you even rougher. Your body is pliant around him, yielding to his every touch like putty. You’ve lost control of yourself, completely enraptured in the intense pleasure he surrounds you with. 
He leans forward, chest pressed to your back, lips brushed to your ear. “I’m gonna knock you up. Give Megumi a little brother or sister. Would you like that?” He’s crazy. Completely unhinged. Absolutely fucking psycho. 
“Fuck yes, I want that,” you moan. “Give it to me, daddy. Breed me.” 
And apparently, so are you. 
“Oh fuck yeah, take my fucking cum then,” he growls. The bed creaks violently below you, his backshots brutal and frantic now, cock desperate for release. “I’m gonna get you fucking pregnant. Make you mine.”
He shoots his hot load inside you, stuffing you full of his cum. He doesn’t stop until he’s fucked it deeper into your pussy, watching with that sexy look on his face as his creamy cum leaks out of your slit.
Lifting you up to lay comfortably on the bed, he rolls beside you, kissing you sloppily until Megumi’s whimpers blare through the baby monitor, indicating that he’s awake. Toji laughs, smacking your ass as you crawl over him to return to your real job. 
~~~
You spend the remainder of your summer employed at the Fushiguro household until you have to go back to school. You and Toji continue to fuck each other silly every day that you’re working. 
The day before you leave for college, you say your goodbyes to the family. Megumi’s mom, who remains blissfully unaware of your sins, hugs you tightly. “Thank you so much for all your help. I’ve finally saved enough money to afford a full-time nanny, so we’ll be fine.” 
“It was my pleasure. I had a lot of fun. With Megumi,” you clarify, avoiding Toji’s gaze as he watches from the kitchen. 
“Seriously. You’re a good person. I hope you know that.” She smiles, truly grateful. “And thank you for taking care of my good for nothing husband too.”
As the guilt of this dirty, filthy secret eats away at you, Toji stares at you from across the room, smirking. 
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redflagshipwriter · 3 months
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Snitches the cat and his favorite bat
I wrote up dpxdc fics based off of prompts I happened to see in the last day to add to the reading pile for anyone who didn't prep for the archive down time today.
EDIT
The idea for Danny as a cat came from @shycorvid, thank you so much for correcting me and letting me play in your sandbox!
Snitches the cat comes from @garbagewith-a-cherryontop (I think??? I couldn't find a definite first post!) but the fantastic linked post is the one with how I think Snitches the cat looks here.
Word count is 1053.
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masterpost for my AO3 downtime fics
“Ugh- that's not- did we just summon a demon cat?”
“It's so messed up looking. Ew.”
Danny blinked and swayed on his feet. He'd had a tail a minute ago, speeding across the GZ to check in on Walker. There had been an unpleasant lurch in his stomach. And now he was on his feet. All four of them.
Wait, what?
“You fucked this up.”
His ears twitched at the sound of a slap. Danny swiveled towards the sound and then got distracted by the feeling of his ears swiveling back. Whaaaaat?
He looked down at his precious little feeties. They were adorable paws.
“Oh, you motherfuckers,” he said. It came out as a conversational yowl.
The humans looked at him from about ten feet away and five feet up. “Annoying…”
He was pretty sure they were high schoolers. There were five of them, two girls and three boys. They were all bigger than him. High schoolers were usually bigger than he was, but this was just ridiculous.
“Count yourself lucky, dimwits,” one of the older kids said. He took a step towards Danny. Danny pressed his ears flat against his head and hissed at the approach. “If you managed to sacrifice Patches to a demon, your Mom would straight up murder you.” He laughed when he said it, like anything about that was remotely funny.
Uh- what now?
Only now, Danny noticed a very distressed calico cat underneath a laundry basket on the other side of the room. There was a stack of textbooks weighing the basket down. A large rug had been rolled up and- he sneezed rapidly, eyes watering. Chalk! They'd drawn on the floor with chalk!
‘This is some incompetent summoning,’ Danny realized, way too late. ‘Did they- how did they turn me into a cat?’ He looked at his unfortunate brethren under the laundry basket. Her ears were flat against her skull and she looked scared.
He remembered the word “sacrifice” and his blood flushed hit with fury. They'd wanted him to eat her! They'd wanted something to eat miss Patches!
The teenagers froze and looked at him, aghast at the angry sounds that were coming out of his throat.
“Shut up!” One hissed. She took off her shoe and threw it at him. Danny dodged and then threw his head back to yowl even louder. Sonic attack! Aural damage, you big jerks!
“The neighbors are going to- make it shut up!”
Danny had to run, dashing over furniture and tearing his way across a crowded table to avoid being grabbed. He screamed the whole time, eager to alert whoever they were so afraid of. Someone should see!
The window burst in.
Danny stopped running, shocked. He hadn't actually expected-
Someone snatched him up from behind and smacked him on the face with a palm. His jaw exploded with pain. It cut off his yowling.
Stunned. He was still for a moment and then he struggled for his life. The grip on his ribs was way too tight-
He looked over at the sound of a sword being pulled from a sheath. Holy shit, that was bomb as hell. His eyes went wide at the sight of a heavily armored small child crouched on the windowsill. The boy's eyes were covered, but Danny could still see him look at Danny and the poor calico under the laundry basket. He sneered.
“Unhand the cat or lose your hands at the wrist, you wretch.”
Danny loved him.
The teenager dropped him. Danny caught himself with a stumble. He let out a sad mraow before he could stop himself.
Fight club baby was enraged. “What have you done to this animal?” He hopped down into the room, revealing he was at least a foot shorter than the smallest girl in the room.
Danny trotted to him and started winding around his ankles admiringly. What a good kid! He purred.
“I will be taking both of your cats with me. If you ever harm an animal again, it will be your head that is found in a chalk-”
“Robin.” A hugeass grown man squeezed himself through the window that the kid had broken. Danny craned his head up, up, up, to see him case the joint.
The older man radiated incredible judgment. “I see that you require education on animal welfare and demonic summoning. Go on, Robin.”
“That's my Mom's cat!” One of the teenagers protested. “You can't take her!”
Robin growled at her. Danny jumped in his skin at the sound.
“Then we shall return it to your Mother and her alone, when we explain what you've done.” Danny let murder baby scoop him up and purred at full volume. Hell yeah. He looked at the cowering teenagers with condescension.
“Not that fugly thing.”
Danny blinked. He ended up making an inquisitive mraow. Why was a finger being pointed at him? He was baby.
“That thing showed up, you can get rid of it. But Patches is Mom's cat, and you can't steal a cat because-”
“Batman can steal any cat!” Robin bit out, gathered up Patches, and jumped out the window with both cats in an expert grip.
That didn't sound right, but Danny just enjoyed the night air as a line pulled Robin up to where yet another masked vigilante was waiting, cackling himself to tears.
“Batman can steal any cat,” he wheezed. “Brilliant. Good detour, Robin. Can I hold one?” He held out his blue-striped palms expectantly.
He faltered when he saw Danny, visibly surprised.
Danny… was starting to feel bad. He curled into Robin, hurt. He wasn't ugly. Why did people keep reacting to him weird?
“No,” Robin said curtly. “You have damaged his pride, and Patches is still reeling from her shock.”
The man let out a sigh but let the topic go. “That's Patches, and this is…?”
Robin hesitated. “He is the Snitch.”
That unlocked cooing. “Snitches? Snitchy Snitch Sni- ow!”
Danny snapped at the hand that came way too close and he let out a warning growl. No baby talk!
Robin seemed very pleased. He rubbed behind Danny's ears. “Snitch… I suppose that Snitches will suffice. We are taking him home.”
“....Maybe, just for fun, we should take him to get treated for mange first!” The guy made jazz hands to go with his statement.
Robin and Danny both growled that time.
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charliemwrites · 2 months
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Part 5 of Mister(s) Steal Your Girl
Long awaited, but no Johnny smut just yet. Soon, I promise. (And Kyle will be back. It's been so long since he's gotten to smooch our dear reader.)
Also! A little reminder than you can check the queue to see what I plan to post for next. I try to update it often as the worms wiggle. Next I plan to do the final chapter of Greater Bad. (Unless I get my not-so-secret, no-longer-a-surprise oneshot out first)
Lastly! Please note that I wrote the "posts" from his perspective. So inconsistencies with the actual story and any grammar/spelling errors were purposeful or for "authenticity".
Content: Brandon.
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r/CakeEater _OnBrand_ I asked my fiancé for an open relationship before marriage. It worked. A while ago I posted on r/adultery about the affairs (yes, multiple) I was having behind my then-gf’s back. We’d already been dating for ~4 years and I was seeing one of my coworkers (my “work wife”) regularly and one of her coworkers on and off. People on my other post were critical and called me all sorts of things like selfish and pig. I know it’s not traditional, but I genuinely don’t think I could ever be satisfied by one woman. My work wife (Rachel) and fiance’s coworker (Lucy) provide things my fiancé just can’t but I still love my fiancé. She’s the woman I’m going to spend the rest of my life with. When I posted on r/adultery I was trying to figure out how to propose without her finding out. I knew she’d expect me to help with stuff and possibly want to look at my phone more often. It would have been harder to sneak off to meet up with Lucy or Rachel with wedding planning and I was sick of being stressed she would find out. Some nicer people on the post suggested I ask for an open relationship. I took their advice and sat her down to sell the idea. It’s a good thing I’m so good at sales (top 3% in my company for 5 years in a row) because she agreed. Yes, actually agreed. At first she got kind of pale and her eyes got really big and blank. I thought for sure she was about to start crying and run off. Maybe even kick me out. She doesn’t really get angry but she gets upset and it freaks me out. After I explained everything about how good it would be for us though, she agreed. This is my official unlimited hallpass. I’ve been seeing Rachel on weekends and Lucy once or twice during the week for drinks. Tonight I’m going to sign up for every dating site I can. Tinder, Bumble, Hinge. If anyone has other suggestions, I’ll check those out too. Fiance has been kind of off but I think it’s just an adjustment period. Sometimes I can tell she’s been crying but she hasn’t come to me about it so she’s probably just being emotional about all the changes. At least she’s got our house to focus on while she gets used to things. I feel a little bad about running out every night but she’s just so mopey and sad all the time and it’s not enjoyable to be around. I know she probably feels like I’m abandoning her a little but once she starts getting back to normal I’ll spend time with her again. You really can have your cake (all the cakes heh) and eat them too. Edit: no, I never told her that I already had Lucy and Rachel and I’m not going to. What good would it do? She’s already agreed to an open relationship and telling her that I didn’t have permission first would just hurt her for no reason.
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Kyle’s been gone for two (long, lonely) weeks when he finally gets a chance to call. So far, he’s only been able to send scattered texts at odd hours. Always something sweet – telling you he’s alright, or that he’s thinking of you. Sometimes you even catch him for a brief exchange before he apologizes and “goes dark” again.
Not that you begrudge it. This is part and parcel of dating him and you knew that going in. You’re not complaining when he’s putting his life on the line so that the public can live in blissful peace.
That doesn’t stop you from missing him though. His hugs, his smile. Getting his voice - even roughened by distance - is a nice compromise though.
“How have you been holding up, chickadee?” he asks after the initial reassurance that he’s whole and hale. 
“Easier this time!” you answer proudly. “I know what to expect with you gone and Johnny’s good company.”
“Yeah?” he asks, sounding pleased.
You can just imagine him now, leaning his hip against the nearest surface, arms crossed over his broad chest. He tends to duck his head when he smiles, and you unintentionally grin to yourself, thinking of him hiding into his phone. God, you miss him. 
“Mhmm! We found a board game bar that you’re going to love. Oh, and we’re going to the Hay Festival this weekend.”
He hums. “I’m sorry I can’t be there to take you, luv, but I knew Johnny would be good to you.”
More than good to you, really. There’s not been a day he doesn’t call to check up on you - if he doesn’t see you in person, that is. Dinner, movies, coffee. He’s somehow both a gentleman and an incorrigible flirt, but only with you. He’s nothing more than polite to anyone else, keeping his focus on you and whatever the two of you are doing.
You don’t know what to do with the undivided attention. If you didn’t know better…
“You two are getting close,” Kyle observes.
“I think so,” you admit, then hesitate. “Is… that okay?”
“‘Course, luv. I’m glad.”
You blink. “You are?”
“He’s my best mate and you’re my best girl.”
An odd pang of anxiety pierces your chest. Johnny calls you that too. His “best girl.” You love hearing it - but maybe you shouldn’t?
“It… doesn’t bother you? That we’re spending so much time together.”
He snorts softly, but it’s not derisive. It’s a noise he makes whenever he thinks you’re being silly, but his voice comes out soft and warm. Not an ounce of condescension.
“No, baby, I’m not fussed. You spend your time with whoever you want, however you want. Yeah?”
Your chest floods with warmth. “Okay.”
“There’s a love. I’ve got a brief, so I have to go. I’ll call soon as I can.”
“Be safe, Ky.”
“Do my best. Give Soap a smooch for us, aye?”
You blink as he hangs up. That’s a new one.
You ponder over it while packing on Thursday night. Was it just a joke? A tease at the little crush you’ve developed for Johnny?
Because it is a crush, you know it is. It’s impossible not to be attracted to him. Not with that smile, that laugh, the goofy humor and sweet mannerisms. He still sends you flowers every few weeks - just as the previous ones are about to die. It’s so thoughtful; you’ve started feeling a bit warm every time you look at them.
But you feel greedy, being even remotely interested in anyone else. You have Kyle and Brandon (even if you two are going through a… patch) and that should be enough for you. Shouldn’t it? You’ve never been with more than one person at a time before; it took you weeks to shake the compulsory guilt when you first met Kyle. It feels almost unforgivably audacious to want Johnny too, especially since he’s Kyle’s best mate.
Still… Kyle’s not a jealous or passive-aggressive guy. You’ve been with him long enough now that you know he’d just tell you outright if he was unhappy about something. And he’s been with you long enough that he can surely tell you’re more than a bit fond of Johnny.
Maybe that’s why he made the joke about “smooching” him.
Regardless, you want to talk to him about it. Things always make sense when you think out loud to him. His levelheaded and practical approach to difficult topics always straightens your panic spirals out into neat lines.
Plus, it’s not as comforting to hold your own hand. (God, when is he getting back?)
“Where are you going?”
You blink up at Brandon, folded pajamas in hand.
“The Hay Festival,” you answer.
Speaking of - you slip past him into the bathroom. He doesn’t follow, rooted to the spot spinning his phone around in his hands.
“Alone?”
You snort. “Of course not, I’m going with a friend.”
The allergy pills are at the bottom of the medicine basket beneath the sink. You really need to organize it the next time Johnny’s too busy to hang out. There’s no way you need three bottles of paracetamol. 
“I need that suitcase.”
You toss the bottle in and pivot for the dresser. “What for?”
He shifts, eyes sliding away. “An… overnight.”
Ah. That’s what he’s calling it now?
You snatch a few (too many) pairs of underwear from the dresser.
“Just bring them here,” you say over your shoulder.
There’s a long, tense beat of silence but you’re too busy rummaging for socks to break it first. Will it be too warm for thigh-highs? Eh, you’ll go with the sheer ones; the little lace roses match one of your dresses anyway.
“Bring who here?” Brandon asks slowly.
When you turn, he looks paler than usual. You shrug, trying to project casual comfort.
This is a totally normal and reasonable conversation to have. Just a couple in an open relationship, discussing a stranger coming to the house for a shag. Nothing to make a fuss over.
“Whoever you need the suitcase for? I know you’ve had people over before anyway, and I’ll be gone all weekend.”
He stutters, color returning to his face in bright pink blooms. “Why do you think I’ve had people over before?”
You arch an eyebrow. “I do the laundry, remember? And there was lipstick on one of the wine glasses.”
That had sent you into a tizzy at the time, disgusted that some stranger was in your bed, with your fiancé. You washed the sheets twice on the hottest setting and tossed in a bit of bleach for good measure. Hadn’t been able to look at him the whole week - not that he was there much to not look at.
Now, though, you seem to have adjusted to the idea, even if you’re still not thrilled. Brandon can have his… whoever over, and you’ll goof around with Johnny in Wales.
“Just toss the bedding in the wash afterwards,” you add.
“I thought you do the laundry,” he sniffs.
“I’m not traveling all day just to do chores when I get home,” you answer. He does a double take like you’ve started speaking a new language. “You’ll be here all weekend, I’m sure you’ll have time.”
He opens his mouth, and you can tell already that he’s about to argue - though you don’t really know what about. It’s not like he can’t do laundry or dishes, after all. He lived alone before you moved in together.
Thankfully, his phone distracts him before he can form the words. He spins away to tap at the screen and shuffles out of the room, shoulders till tense. You go back to packing and teasing Johnny about the amount of hair gel he’ll bring.
Friday afternoon can’t come fast enough. Even though you’ve taken a half day from work, the few hours seem to drag. You’re practically daydreaming about the food and drinks, music and activities. There’s a baker’s dozen art stalls you want to check out as well, and a gift to pick out for Kyle…
“Hope yer thinkin’ o’ me when ye make tha’ face.”
Your head snaps around so fast, you nearly give yourself whiplash. Johnny grins down at you in all his casually handsome glory – ripped jeans, green tee, and brown boots. Angels are singing somewhere, you think. Or maybe that’s just your nosy coworkers ogling from their own cubicles.
The reality of him sinks in a moment later and you leap up from your cushy chair – and right into his arms. He’s like a furnace compared to the cool, conditioned air of your office, a welcome source of warmth for your chilly fingers.
“What are you doing here?” you giggle. “Who let a rowdy guy like you in?”
He smells like bergamot and pine. It takes active thought to resist pressing your face into the crook of his neck. It looks cozy there.
As always, he squeezes you a bit tighter just before letting go.
“Hey now, Marcy’s a discerning lady. She knows a fine gentleman when she sees one.”
You snort, belied by the smile curling your lips. “She may need new glass then.”
“Och, don’t go talkin’ poor about my second-best gal now.”
“Is it that easy to get in your good graces?” you scoff, glancing at the time on your computer. It’s later than you expected; no wonder he came up to retrieve you. You spent so long daydreaming that you’ve lost track of time.
“Aw don’ be green, dove, you’re still my number one. Send ye flowers ‘n all.”
You roll your eyes at him. “Yeah, and now I’m wondering just how special that is.”
He stands close, proclaiming his case for how obviously special you are while you shut everything down for the weekend. You’re only half listening to the bit, admittedly. Mostly just basking in your excitement for the mini road trip and the weekend to come. You have no doubt that it’s going to be fun, even if it would be better with Kyle along too.
“Where are you headed off to?” Lucy asks.
“Hay Festival,” you answer shortly.
You’ve never been a big fan of Lucy, but lately she’s been insufferable. Talking over you during meetings, leaving you out of emails, throwing away papers at the printer. (Okay, you haven’t seen her do that last one, but you know.) Worst of all, she can help but make backhanded comments about every flower delivery.
“You’re not taking Brandon?” she simpers. “Something wrong?”
“He’s hanging out with a friend this weekend too,” you correct, “and he doesn’t like hay.”
“Shame that,” Johnny adds, sounding like it’s not a shame at all.
You haven’t told him much about Brandon – but you’re sure that Kyle has. From the face Johnny makes the rare times your fiancé comes up in conversation, he doesn’t think much of Brandon.
“Have fun you two!” your manager, Selene, calls.
You wave and shoot Lucy one last, unimpressed glance before stepping onto the elevator with Johnny.
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r/CakeEater _OnBrand_ My fiancé is going on a weekend getaway with another man. I’ve posted in r/adultery and r/cakeeater before. I’m not looking for judgement or insults here. I really just want advice.
A little context: my fiancé and I are in an open relationship and it’s been like this for a few months now. I originally asked her to ope the relationship and for a while she was weird about it but lately she’s been getting sbetter. I thought she was finally getting used to me going out with other women and things were getting back to normal.
A few weeks ago, I noticed she was on her phone more. Like, all the time. Even at dinner when she used to be really picky about phones at the table. One day I came home from work and she was talking on the phone to someone. Giggling and laughing. When I turned the corner she was kind of blushing too. It kind of bothered me but I figured she was talking to a friend and just hot from cooking or something.
Lucy texted me pissed off one day, asking why I was sending my fiancé flowers but not her. I told her I hadn’t sent any flowers. I think they’re way too expensive for how long they realistically last and that they take up a lot of unnecessary space. But I thought it was weird that someone was sending my fiancé flowers and got kind of uncomfortable. That’s a pretty romantic gesture and her family isn’t the type to randomly send flowers either.
I tried taking her out on a date but she was all mopey again and turned her phone to ‘do not disturb’ so I wouldn’t even see if she was texting someone. We don’t have much to talk about now. I love her but she’s not a good storyteller or into very interesting things. All her ‘funny stories’ are just mundane things that happen during the day. We’ve run out of interesting topics about because we’ve been together so long. (That’s why I like having more than one partner.)
Yesterday she randomly started packing for a trip. I don’t even think she was planning to tell me until I asked her. She was packing a bunch of cute clothes too. Like dresses and tights and things like that. Stuff she only used to wear on our dates. I asked who she was going with and she just said ‘a friend’ which is weird because she would usually say the name of someone even if I don’t remember who they are.
Well today Lucy sent me a picture of my fiancé leaving her job with some guy. I couldn’t see his face because he was turned away, but I could see the side of my fiancé’s face and she was smiling at him. I got this awful sinking feeling in my chest like it was hard to breathe. It took me a few minutes to process that she’s going away for a weekend with a complete stranger.
Doesn’t she know how dangerous that is? Where did she even meet this guy? They’ll be gone all weekend so are they sharing a room? A bed? I nearly threw up thinking all these things as I called her.
I asked her to cancel her plans and come home. She seemed confused and reminded me that her plans were with someone else and it would be rude to ditch last minute. I told her I wanted to spend the weekend with her and that I’d been missing her. She seemed surprised and said that she’d see me on Sunday night, but she was looking forward to the festival with her ‘friend’ and wanted to go. As a last ditch effort I asked if her friend was more important than me, nearly begging at that point. She must have heard the desperation in my voice, but she just told me that she was already on the road and it was too late.
My fiancé doesn’t like lying but it’s hard to believe this guy was just a friend. Even if she sees him as a friend I know how men think and I doubt he sees her the same way.
She said some other weird stuff before she left about having someone over while she was gone. I don’t get it. How could she just casually invite someone else into our house like that? Has she had other people over? Is she dating now?
I’m not sure what to do. I don’t like that she put this trip over me. Should I talk to her about how bad this makes me feel? Should I call again and tell her to come home more forcefully? Am I blowing all of this out of proportion?
Edit: she doesn’t know that I’ve been seeing Lucy. I haven’t told my fiancé about any of the women I’ve been seeing. (mostly just Lucy and Rachel. I’ve done a lot of texting through apps and gone on a bunch of first place, but most women don’t put out right away and I usually can’t be bothered to get to know them better). Even then, I wouldn’t tell her about lucy. They don’t get along and never have. It would cause a lot of unnecessary drama.
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s1m0nth3swag · 6 months
Text
Francis Mosses x GN!Reader
AUTHORS NOTE; Haven't written in a while, but thanks to Arlo, a friend (Hi Arlo, I know you're reading this), Inspiration about Francis Mosses struck (he bought me That's not my neighbor and then continued to freak out about Francis with me) so I wrote this. I have so many thoughts about Francis, so... tell me if you want more because i will deliver ngl. Enjoy (or don't, I don't dictate your feelings)
WARNINGS/ CONTENT INFO; Porn with little to no plot, Submissive Francis, a little non-consensual at the start (but not in a super weird way, imo?), Gender neutral reader (no pronouns used, tried to write as GN as possible with the compliments and thoughts about Readers appearance), not proofread nor have I thought about this much, more a drabble than an actual thoughtful story (not apologising because I had such a long break from writing anything and obviously it's gonna suck a little when I come back)
NSFW UNDER THE CUT!
The first time Francis had realised that he hadn't gotten any touch from another human being was when someone brushed up against him on his way home from work. He had felt like a creep afterwards because he hadn't stopped thinking about what could've happened if the person hadn't moved away and had just stayed pressed against him. That was a week before you started your job as a doorman.
The second time Francis had noticed was when a friend of his had spoken to him on the phone, talking about his new girlfriend. Said friend gave too much intel on their sex life. Francis had wondered if he could have someone the way his friend explained - he quickly brushed the thought off. That was two days before you started working as a doorman.
The third time, he noticed when you had smiled at him. It was your first day, and he was tired from work. You had repeated his name after reading it off of his ID, and he had looked at you for the first time since his eyes kept falling closed, and you smiled so brightly. You had told him his name was nice, and you said it again. Francis swore that the way his name rolled off your tongue was the most beautiful thing he's ever heard. Not even an angel could sound more wonderful. Suddenly, he was a lot more energised. Totally not thanks to the fact that he had immediately grown hard the second he had seen your smile. He had gone to his apartment that night and had jerked off for the first time in probably months. He had always been too tired to previously, but now he couldn't stop thinking about how you'd sound moaning his name. Maybe you were more of a groaner, or you'd whimper and whine. He came as he imagined how you'd look sucking his dick.
Since then, Francis has always looked forward to entry checks. What had normally kept him away from his bed and a good night's sleep was now the best experience of his day. He loved the way you spoke to him even though he was too nervous to respond. Sometimes, he deliberately didn't show his ID at first, just so you'd ask about it, and he could listen to you talk a little more. He felt guilty about it. He knew you had never agreed to feed into this weird little obsession of his. It was awful of him to do this - have you talk to him enough to give him more scenarios to think about that night.
A few weeks after all this had started, Francis had built up the courage to finally ask you out. Just something simple, dinner at his place. He had to cook for himself all the time. Cooking for you as well wouldn't be too different, right?
Francis was wrong. He was anxious that the food wouldn't taste good and kept tasting it just so he could make sure it hadn't mysteriously switched tastes in the last 20 seconds. When you knocked on his door, he took a minute to make sure he didn't look like a mess - though you wouldn't mind either way since he always looked like a mess when he came through during your shifts.
You looked so good when he opened the door. Your hair fell perfectly, your lips looked a little too kissable, and Francis had to stop his train of thought just so he wouldn't embarrass himself by having yet another boner caused by just the way you looked. You were a little shorter than him, smiling up as he let you inside.
"You look good." He mumbled, his cheeks flushing. He seriously had to lay off thinking like a high-schooler. His nervousness and awkwardness were getting really annoying - to him, at least. You grinned, chuckling softly as you took off your shoes. "Thank you. You do as well." His heart for sure burst at that - he knew something else would burst as well if he didn't stop thinking right this second.
Throughout the evening, ignoring his thoughts came easier and easier. The two of you had eaten, you had told him he was a good cook, he had almost excused himself to the bathroom because of it. Now you were sitting on the couch, drinking wine and talking casually.
"You know, when you first walked through, I swore I would die." You giggled, looking at him with a mischievous look. Francis was confused by that statement. "How come?" He asked, tilting his head at you in question. "I was sure you were a doppelganger. You looked too handsome to be real." You cheekily answered, cheeks slightly flushed as you downed your wine. Francis blushed heavily, looked away from you, and thought about your words for a moment. The silence was loud as he wondered what to answer. "..you think I'm handsome?" He questioned while looking at the floor. If he had looked at you, he'd have seen the way you stared at him, your own cheeks coloured a deep red. "Extremely." You muttered. It took him a minute before he could look at you, but when he did, his lips pressed against yours in a desperate kiss.
When you reciprocated, Francis groaned and pulled you closer until you sat on his lap. He was just a tiny bit embarrassed when you gasped and felt his dick press against you. In all honesty, he had held back the entire night, and he was allowed a little selfishness. "Sorry. Can't help it." He muttered between kisses. You just grinned against his lips before grinding against him. A whimper fell from his lips - that was the moment he was actually embarrassed. "That's cute.." You had mumbled, a cheeky grin on your face as you started placing kisses against his jaw and neck. One of your hands trailed down his body to rest right over his crotch, Francis unconsciously bucked his hips up against your hand, whining. He didn't notice anything else as you caught the skin of his neck with your teeth carefully, leaving the softest bite mark on him. He shuddered at the feeling and gasped before realising that you had meanwhile unzipped his pants. A groan slipped from his lips as you ran a finger over his dick, still hidden from sight by his boxers, but god knows he would cum the second you'd touch it without. "Is this okay?" You asked him, and he nodded faster than he even knew he could. "Yes. God, yes. Please, please continue.." he muttered, his breathing heavy as he watched you slide off his lap, settling in front of him and between his legs. His dick twitched at the sight, and he let out a heavy sigh. Minutes later, his pants and boxers were discarded, and the way you looked up at him, his dick so close to your face, made Francis feel the way his orgasm was approaching way too quick. The second you wrapped your hand around him he whined pathetically, bucked up into your hand and knew that he'd definitely cum too soon. Your hand was so soft, cool against his hot flesh, and you worked his dick so good he almost thought you were a professional. He looked down at you through lidded eyes, watched the way you bit your lip, and grinned knowingly. "Such a pretty boy, huh?" You chuckled, and that definitely sealed the deal for Francis. He came, probably ruining his shirt as he dirtied both it and your hand. His heart stopped for a second when you licked your hand while looking up at him. "You didn't give me enough time to taste you properly. Don't look at me like that." You huffed, rolling your eyes at him. "You should probably take off your shirt so you can clean it later." You then winked. He swiftly shed the piece of clothing, entranced by your voice and the way you looked. "Sorry, didn't mean to cum that fast.." he mutters, his voice out of breath. "Jus'.. unused to... this.." he added, clearing his throat awkwardly. You laughed and shook your head. "Don't worry about it. We have all the time in the world to make you last longer. I'm gonna give you a real reason to be tired tomorrow." You winked.
Francis didn't even mind that he was in for a long night.
Your honour I am gnawing at the bars of my enclosure.
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reilemon · 5 months
Text
🫧Love Don't Be Shy🫧
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♡︎ pairing: Rafayel x fem!reader
。°⚠︎°。MINORS DNI (18+ ONLY)。°⚠︎°。
♡︎cw:unprotected sex (as always), there's only one bed, sex toys, pulling out
♡︎word count: 2.9k
♡︎synopsis: Rafayel finds your mini "neck massager" while going through your makeup bag.
♡︎a/n: I hope you guys like how I wrote Rafayel.
♡︎ special thanks to my beta reader ♡︎@its-de♡︎ for reading and helping me with this
banner by @cafekitsune
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A defeated sigh leaves your lips. You have to share the bed with your friend (employee?) Rafayel. You just nod when Rafayel checks with you if it's okay, and of course you agree because you don't want to go around searching for another hotel.
The last time you had to share a room, and the bed, you barely got any sleep as he was tossing and turning all night, stealing the duvet in consequence. You couldn't be too mad at him as you know how messed up his sleep schedule is. Also, he was so sweet for remembering your comment how you wished to see a certain spot at that place.
This time is no different; he organized this little trip for you to make good use of your vacation days. He researched all the restaurants that you'd like, shops that he'd like, fun and interesting places to visit, and always takes the best seats in the airplane. But he always forgets to book two rooms in advance!
It's not that bad, you tell yourself. You're very comfortable around Rafayel; he makes you feel safe and he adores spending time with you. It's just that you have your own night routine. And you can't do it with him in the same room.
Oh well, the vacation will fly by quickly.
Even with this little inconvenience, you wish it won't. Not because you don't want to get back to work, but because you also adore spending time with him. And lately, with every meeting you hope to become more than just friends (more than just an artist and his bodyguard).
⋆ ˚。⋆꒰ა 🪼 ໒꒱⋆ ˚。⋆
After unpacking Rafayel and you go outside to grab a quick bite at the city centre. Of course that turns into an impromptu shopping spree because the two of you stumbled upon a vintage flea market.
You drag your feet as Rafayel almost skips next to you, bags with little trinkets in his hands. It's a beautiful summer afternoon, with a refreshing breeze. You'd enjoy it more if there weren't so many people around.
He glances at your 'energetic' walk. "C'mon Miss Bodyguard, we had a good time there!"
You chuckle. "Sure, if you can call 'talking you out of buying everything you see' a good time."
"But everything was so beautiful!"
"Yes, but think of the luggage!"
He shifts his bags to one hand and offers you the free one with a soft smile. "Give me your hand. I don't want to get lost."
He says that, but he's the one leading you through the crowd.
⋆ ˚。⋆꒰ა 🪼 ໒꒱⋆ ˚。⋆
You had to take a little nap after coming back to your room, because Rafayel had more things planned for this evening, and you needed the energy. You wanted to look and feel good because you actually looked forward to it. You might've even bought some new outfits that you thought he'd like, even though he gives you compliments no matter how much effort you put into your appearance.
While you were asleep, Rafayel took a long shower.
When you awoke, you found him in your room with nothing but a towel wrapped around his hips.
You blush and avert your gaze, opting to just not comment on it. "Are you at least wearing underwear?" You commented on it.
He looks down, like he forgot about his state of almost-undress. "I do. Wanna check?" His hand resting on the towel knot.
Your hand immediately shoots up to cover your view of whatever he's about to show you. "It's fine! I just didn't expect this to be the first thing I see after a nap!"
He laughs and strolls towards the closet. "You saw me in a bathing suit plenty of times. This towel covers more."
You can't help but sneak a peek at his toned back while he's picking out an outfit. For someone who claims to hate working out, he's more than fit. You can clearly see the way his muscles are carved under his pale still damp skin and the way they flex as he moves. As he turns around, you can’t help but crave to graze your hand over his defined abs and those veins leading down to -
"Like what you see?"
Caught red handed, you snap your head in the opposite direction, your face burning with embarrassment.
"I'll go take a shower." You mumble as you snatch your underwear and a nightdress from a drawer and escape to the bathroom, blushing even more as you catch Rafayel's mischievous laugh.
⋆ ˚。⋆꒰ა 🪼 ໒꒱⋆ ˚。⋆
Refreshed, and not at all embarrassed anymore, you emerge from the bathroom to get your makeup bag. You don't know whether to put the outfit on before the makeup, or the other way around...
Your brain short circuits when your eyes land on Rafayel holding your makeup bag in one hand - and your mini vibrator in the other.
He holds it up and studies it "Is this like a mini neck massager?"
You're frozen in place. Your body is discovering new levels of embarrassment.
Hearing nothing from you, his attention shifts to your figure. You don't register the way his eyes admire you in your little nightdress. "Well?" He presses the little button and the little buzzing sound hits your ears like crashing waves of sweat hitting your body.
He's teasing you. He has got to be teasing you. Like he always is. There's no way he thinks this is for his neck!
"Give it back." You croak, your throat dry.
"Why? You don't want to show me how to use it?" He's really going through with this little bit.
"Why were you even going through my makeup bag?"
He explains how he forgot to pack some cream and wanted to borrow it from you, or something like that, you barely listened because he was not letting go of the little bullet vibrator. He's put down the makeup bag, but not the toy!
The buzzing gets stronger as Rafayel's finger presses the button multiple times. "So, which setting is the best?"
He flinches as you basically hurl yourself towards him to take back what's yours. He holds it in the air, away from your reach.
"What's up with you?" his eyebrows knot, cheeks lightly red at the close proximity.
"Give it back!"
Finding your frustration confusing but at the same time cute and amusing, he continues to keep it out of your reach, letting you chase him around the room.
"Nuh - uh!" he laughs and turns to you, only for his face to be met with a white fluffy pillow.
You smacked him across the face, not too hard of course; you're still his body guard. You earn a little 'hey!' with a flushed face and to defend himself, he puts the toy in his pocket and grabs his own pillow. You didn't even notice how good his outfit looked.
The two of you end up in a brief pillow fight - mostly him taking hits while you managed to dodge most of them. But then Rafayel swiftly snatches your pillow, and pins you down on the bed, holding your wrists in his hand and resting his knees on the bed.
He asks, out of breath "Is it not a neck massager?" While you were in a pillow fight he caught on how red your face is and how that shape doesn't seem like it's for the neck.
You struggle under him, aware of how your nightdress lifted under the impact, and how your breasts are on the verge of spilling out. A small whine leaves your lips in frustration as he's so much stronger than you.
"Yes! It's my vibrator, okay?" you can't meet his gaze. You're sure you look so damn pathetic right now.
But you don't see the delight in Rafayel's eyes as he takes in your cute flushed pouting face. He can't help but take a peek of your figure under him, the way your tits are barely covered, the hem of your dress lifted to show off your plush thighs pressed together.
He releases his hold on you and sits back, still straddling you. "Is that why you were upset over one room? You could've just told me and I would've taken a walk or something. Maybe even get you a snack to replenish your energy."
You could not be more mortified. Your eyes are still fixed somewhere to the side and your lips don't move.
His fingers softly hold your chin and you muster the courage to look him in the eyes. You notice how messy his curls are. "There's nothing to be ashamed of." He reassures you with a soft smile, and hands you over the wretched thing.
And you loved that about Rafayel - he knew when to stop teasing and when it's time to give you reassurance.
Still, you needed your little revenge.
It doesn't matter that he's stronger than you, you still have your hunter skills, and in a blink of an eye, you switch positions, straddling his lap.
He opens his mouth to make some dirty joke but only a yelp gets out when you suddenly press the buzzing toy on his side while locking his wrists with your hand.
He pleads for mercy as you continue to run the vibrator on second to highest setting all over his torso.
A blush creeps up on your cheeks, and heat pools between your legs as his whimpers and gasps keep leaving his plump lips and his body squirms under you, his crotch grazing your bottom.
Flustered and out of breath, Rafayel had enough of the torture and pins you down again - pressing you in the same position you had him in, but with his knee so dangerously close to your clothed heat.
"You're being cruel, kitten." he breathes, his tone a little too calm for your liking.
He takes the toy from you and starts sliding it down the middle of your belly, the contact making you squirm and laugh a little. "I was being supportive here and you go and start torturing me."
"I was embarrassed!" you scream between laughs and pants.
He complains in his playful manner about how you attacked him while he was so confused, you can barely hear him over your involuntarily laughs. In your squirms and attempts to break free, your core grinds more than once against his knee and upper thigh.
And maybe he's inching his knee closer to you.
You open your eyes when you don't feel the tickles anymore. You're met with his soft hooded eyes.
"I want to make it up to you, darling."
He studies your face as his hand moves up and a gasp leaves your lips as it lightly grazes the underside of your breast over with the vibrating toy.
He repeats the same motion on the other breast. "Do you want me to stop?"
You sheepishly shake your head.
The grip on your wrists loosens, but you let him hold you down.
Finally, he gives attention to your already pebbled nipples, carefully rubbing circles around them. His eyes take in your flushed face - beautiful lips parted as you pant underneath him, eyes veiled with lust and desperation for more, sensitive nipples poking through the thin fabric of your nightdress.
Your panties are damp with the attention on your nipples and core grinding against his knee. And with Rafayel on top of you, with his cheeks flushed, messy hair and half lidded eyes gazing at you with adoration, you crave more.
He doesn't need to read your thoughts to know what you need. Your hips are desperately pressing against him, soaked panties leaving a wet patch on his pants.
A playful smirk stretches his lips, but he fights the urge to tease you. Instead, his hand trails down, avoiding your tummy this time, and presses the toy on your inner thigh, earning a jolt from your legs and a whimper from your lips. With his slender fingers, he lifts up the hem of your dress, exposing your panties.
You feel his knee move back, but still touching your clothed heat. Pressing the button for the lowest setting, he places the vibrating tip of the toy right between your folds, the familiar sensation of the vibrator making you moan. Only it's different now, because Rafayel is the one pressing it against you, the one making you feel so good, which makes you cream, your heart beating against your chest, your face and chest burning with need and desire.
With more confidence, Rafayel starts pressing and slowly rubbing your sensitive bud. "You like that princess? Does it feel good?"
You frantically nod, your pussy already throbbing with an impending orgasm. "Just like that!" You manage to breathe out.
His cock is painfully hard in his boxers, straining in his tight pants. He feels like he could cum just watching your beautiful face dazed with lust and listening to your sinful moans. Soft pants are leaving his lips "Fuck, you're so beautiful."
He releases your wrists to rest his elbow next to your head and he dips down, latching his lips with yours. You reciprocate immediately, wrapping your arms around his neck, relishing in the feeling of finally tasting his gorgeous pink lips.
Both of you are a panting mess, kissing sloppily, saliva dripping from the corners of your mouth as your tongue intertwines with his.
And all of this is becoming too much for you, and you already feel the coil in your stomach is about to snap any second. You snatch the collar of his shirt, probably ripping from how tight you're gripping it. "Don't stop, I'm cummin' - !"
He watches you in awe as you tremble and mewl underneath him, unable to kiss him back as the waves of your release overtake you. His lips latch onto your neck as he uses his thumb and knee to help you come down from your high. His breath is trembling as he sucks and licks the sensitive skin on your neck, his face burning and cock throbbing.
He almost whines in your ear "Please, please princess, I need to fuck you so bad..."
Your fingers interlace with his messy curls and he lifts up his head to meet your eyes. His cheeks and ears are burning red, eyes pleading and hooded with lust.
You softly whisper "I need you."
The same second he hears those words, his working hand frantically works his belt and the pants, a sigh of relief leaving his lips as his hot leaking cock is freed. He wants to take his sweet time with you, worshipping you, but he's already on the brink.
And you're so impatient; you pull your panties to the side and take his cock in your hand and tease the tip against your dripping pussy, the action making the man above you whimper.
"Fuck, princess!" He moves your hand away and squeezes the angry red tip. "Watching you got me so worked up, I don't think I'm gonna last long." He admits with a weak smile.
You pull him into a soft kiss "That's okay, you already made me cum so hard."
He kisses your lips and slowly starts sliding in, a gasp leaving both of your lips. He rests his forehead against yours, eyes squeezed shut as he eases into your sopping cunt.
You bite his delicious bottom lip as he buries himself to the hilt, your walls fluttering around his cock and you feel like you're about to cum again. You release his bottom lip and you move onto kissing his jaw and neck. Fuck, he smells so good.
He stays still as he tries to hold onto his sanity. His hot breath fans over your ear "You're squeezing me so hard, doll."
You wiggle your hips and press his lower back, urging him to start moving. Exhaling a shaky breath, his hips slowly start rolling, yours moving at the same pace. Mewls and moans are leaving your lips, as his cock keeps stroking the sweet spot inside you, glazing his length in your slick.
Rafayel needs to make you cum around his cock, but he’s already so painfully close, with your wet walls squeezing him so hard, your pretty lips on his neck and your bewitching voice in his ear.
He was so captivated by you that he almost forgot about the little toy lying next to you.
Your eyes widen when you see him snatch the toy and turns it on to a higher setting and props himself up, angling his hips to reach your swollen and twitching bundle of nerves. Intense shocks of pleasure take over your body as he starts rubbing the vibrator again, and in seconds you're a whimpering mess as his cock thrusts into you, repeatedly hitting that sensitive spot, and his hand pressing the toy on your clit.
"Raf - I -" Is all you manage to say before another orgasm overtakes you, your breath catching in your throat and for a second you think you're going to pass out. You can barely hear Rafayel's soothing and strained whispers of you how gorgeous you are and how pretty you sound.
But hear him whimper "I'm gonna cum, princess."
He tosses the drenched vibrator to the side and with a squelching sound pulls out of you, and your hips twitch as he presses the tip against your still throbbing clit as he jerks himself off, ropes of hot cum spilling all over your belly and drenched cunt. You’re thankful he pulled up your dress in the process, but you wouldn’t mind if he stained it.
After both of you take a moment to catch your breath, he puts his weight on you and you wrap your arms around his back squeezing him tight.
He peppers you with soft kisses all over your cheeks, your nose, your eyelids. His fingers caress your face.
He chuckles with that playful smirk on his lips. "I should snoop around your stuff more often."
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little-writers-posts · 5 months
Text
Keeping You Warm (The Milkman x F!Reader)
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Author's Note: It's been a long (LONG) time since I wrote smut, so please excuse anything, plus English is not my native language so I apologise for any mistakes. But I do hope you enjoy this!
Warnings: MINORS DNI 18+ Smut. However, it's quite light/soft, so to speak. The reader has a female genitalia.
Word Count: 1.957
“Double shift again, Francis?” I asked over the phone.
“I’m sorry, (Y/N).” I heard Francis’ tired voice say in almost a whisper.
“Is there really no other person who could take the shift? It’s the third time this week, Francis. You’re killing yourself.” I sighed as I rested my head on my hand.
“Not really; everyone has been quitting lately because of the rise in the number of the doppelgangers' sights.” I heard the sound of glass bottles clattering in the background.
“Just… Don’t push yourself too hard, okay? You’re already tired and worn out. I understand that there’s a job that needs to be done, but you’re human.”
“I know. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of myself. Don’t wait up for me, okay? Get your rest. You need it more than I do. Bye.”
“Bye.” I hung up the phone, lowered my head, and laid it on the table.
It has been nearly two weeks since I last saw Francis, which is foolish since we live in the same apartment. However, due to our jobs and taking shifts, our schedules haven't been exactly the same. It’s actually gotten worse because he’s been taking double shifts to cover the lack of people, and now he has to deliver the milk and stay an extra shift preparing all the packs for the next day, which means not only collecting the empty bottles but also refilling them and sorting them out in the boxes. We only see each other when the other one is asleep since I start my shifts early, and he only gets home quite late.
As I was lost in thought, someone knocked on the window. Steven was waving his papers to get into the building.
“Sorry,” I mumbled, proceeding with my work.
Eventually, my shift ended, and I went to my and Francis’ apartment. While setting down my things, I checked my schedule for the next day, and a big smile spread across my face. It was a day off. I decided to wait up for Francis, so for the next few hours, I occupied myself with getting dinner ready and tidying up the house. When I ran out of things to do, I sat in the living room watching one of my favorite shows.
It was past midnight when I heard the keys to the front door. Francis walked in looking as tired as ever, sighing as he locked the door, the tension leaving his shoulders at being home becoming visible.
“Welcome home, love,” I said, getting up from the couch.
“I told you not to wait up, (Y/N),” Francis whispered as he wrapped his arms around my waist, holding me tight.
“I’m not working tomorrow, so I thought I would wait for you,” I whispered back. I held his face in my hands, and he looked exhausted. “Do you want to go to bed? We could cuddle a little before sleep.”
“I would like that,” he smiled.
He followed me into the bedroom and started to get changed. I got in bed while waiting for him.
Soon, I felt his arms around my waist and his lips pressed against my neck. I turned off the lights and faced him. I put my palm on his cheek and caressed it with my thumb. I heard him sigh and move his head closer and I held it between my hands. His lips met mine in a soft and slow kiss.
“I missed you” Francis’s embrace tightened.
“I missed you too, my love” I smiled.
We kissed again, our lips moving slowly, just appreciating each other’s presence. His hand moved from my waist to my hip and down to my butt, giving it a light squeeze. I gasped slightly, and Francis took the opportunity to slide his tongue inside my mouth. What was just a lingering kiss turned into something more pressing. The warmth and softness of our lips, the wet touch of tongues, and the subtle taste of each other only added to my incoming arousal.
Unconsciously, I pushed my hips against his during the kiss, feeling his semi-hard dick. Francis moaned into the kiss. With his hand under my neck, he grabbed a fist full of my hair at the back of my head, squeezing tight and deepening the kiss. His other hand moved back to my waist, slipping under my shirt, caressing my skin, leaving goosebumps all over me.
“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, breaking the kiss and leaving both of us panting.
Francis rested his forehead on mine, and his hands continued rubbing the skin of my waist and neck.
“I thought you were tired,” I smiled.
“I am, but I want you,” he said hoarsely.
At the same time, his leg slipped between mine, pulling me closer by the waist. I could feel his need pressing against my intimate parts. I squeezed his leg between mine, rubbing my heat trying to ease my aching, but I knew he was exhausted, so I took the lead.
“What if I keep you warm?” I asked.
I spit a bit into my hand and reached for his pants, slipping under the waistband and into his underwear. I took his dick and started slowly moving, feeling him twitch. Francis groaned, and I felt his breath at the top of my head; he hugged me tighter and started to slowly, rocking his hips against my hand. I felt a chill down my spine; my core throbbed, and I felt it was getting wetter.
“Prep me up?” I mumbled.
Francis hummed, agreeing. His hand went from my waist to my heat, massaging my skin lightly along the way, and he pressed one finger to my entrance. I moaned quietly, continuing to pump him. He started to spread my juices around my lips and then pushed one finger inside. I moved my hips along with his finger, Francis kept his movements slow, and with each thrust, he touched a new spot inside me. Soon, he added a second finger, making me moan again and grind my hips in his hand.
“And I thought I was in need,” Francis chuckled.
“Francis…” I whimpered.
He pressed his thumb into my clit and began his scissors movements inside me, also curling his fingers to reach that sweet spot and stroke it, making me roll my eyes and breath heavily. I lifted my head, looking once again for his lips, and captured them in a hungrily open-mouth kiss, our tongues stroking each other rapidly and messy, with spit starting to drip.
I felt my walls pulsing around his fingers and that tickling sensation in my lower belly rushing me to grind faster. But I forced myself to stop. I pulled my hand away from his throbbing dick and grabbed his wrist, moving him away from me. I pushed Francis by the shoulder, laying his back on the mattress, and undressed myself. I lifted my leg and sat across Francis's lap, pulling his clothes down, freeing his dick, making him groan.
I kissed his tip and licked his entire length, from bottom to top, taking him to my mouth next. I took him until his tip reached the back of my throat and pumped the rest with my hand. I bobbed my head, sucking him and pressing my tongue against his flesh. Francis gave a husky groan and thrust his hips, hands tangling my hair.
When his dick was all wet, I raised myself and aligned my entrance with his tip. I slowly sink into him, feeling him twitch, relinquishing the feeling of his dick filling me up until he was all of him was inside me.
I set my hands on his stomach, getting used to the sensation of having him inside. Francis released a strangled breath, his hands resting on my thighs, caressing them with his thumbs.
When I was about to move, Francis took a strand of my hair and nestled it behind my ear, pulling me towards him by the back of my neck right after. He kissed me again, lips moving rapidly, only pulling away when we needed air.
The sudden movement had me squeezing his dick and he grinded his hips against me.
“Fucking tight,” Francis whispered.
I began rocking my hips, Francis matched my pace by grinding into me. Grunts and pants echoed in the bedroom; my hands were back on his stomach for balance, his hands pressed firmly on my waist to guide my movements and leave bruises. Each thrust felt heavenly, his dick sliding in and out, hitting the right spots every time, making me whimper and my legs shake.
The familiar tickling feeling in my lower belly came back, and my movements became erratic, faster, and sloppier, chasing that rush.
“I’m cuming,” I begged.
“Wait for me,” Francis urged.
He grabbed my leg and pushed my back onto the mattress. Settled between my legs, Francis resumed his movements, thrusting deep and fast. The change in position made me whine and squeeze him even tighter; it was bliss, the feeling of his weight on me, his grinding, and his dick rubbing every part inside me and hitting just the right spot.
“Francis, please” I begged again.
“Almost there” he grunted.
I tried my best to delay my incoming orgasm, focusing on Francis, on his short breaths, his muscles stiffening beneath my fingers, his raspy moans in my ear, just everything about him, taking my mind away from the pleasure he was giving me.
I tightened my legs around his body and my nails scratched his back, I was so close.
“Cum with me,” Francis pleaded.
I focused back on the sensation in my lower area. Francis sped up his pace, with chaotic and messy movements, as he began to shake. I felt the buildup of tension that made my back arch and my toes curl, like a clenching feeling. As soon as I thought that I couldn’t take it anymore, I sensed all that tension being released and pulsing throughout my body, an all-consuming release and euphoria. I moaned loudly against Francis's skin.
At the same time, Francis tensed up gave his final deep thrust and his dick throbbed inside me, releasing all of his seed, filling me up.
Francis kissed my lips tenderly, again, again and again, holding my face while supporting the weight of his body on one arm.
“I love you” he whispered between kisses.
“I love you too” I giggled, kissing him back.
He lay next to me, pulling me onto his chest. We stayed like that for a while, still panting and recovering.
“I’ll get you some water and a towel,” he said kissing my temple.
“No, it's okay I’ll get it” I pushed him down and got up. “I have to use the bathroom anyway. Do you need anything?”
“Just some water, please”.
I went to the bathroom, cleaned myself and then got a glass of water from the kitchen. When I came back to the bedroom, Francis’s breathing was deep and slow, suggesting that he was already asleep. I smiled and placed the water on his nightstand, I gave a small peck on his lips and laid down in bed, feeling my muscles relaxing after so much tension and pleasure.
The fact that our lives are regularly in danger because of the doppelgangers leaves everyone on edge, meaning that our time together safe at home is a blessing and a getaway from everything on the outside. Losing ourselves in each other is not only a reminder of being alive but also a reassurance that the other person we love so much is still by our side.
Thinking about all the things we do for each other, and while caressing softly Francis's face, I also fell asleep.
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gimmethatagustd · 8 months
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morals on sundays | myg
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You're still in love with your ex-boyfriend. Yoongi offers some help to get over him.
○ Pairing: BFF!Yoongi x f!Reader
○ Rating: Explicit/18+
○ Genre: Friends with benefits, angst, smut, fluff
○ 6 / 100 Drabble Challenge (FWB)
○ Word Count: 2,177
○ Warnings: MC's boyfriend cheated on her, post-breakup blues, questionable decision making, fingering so good you'll try to run away from it, pussy eating, too much tongue sucking probably, Yoongi is a boob guy, they have matching Spongebob and Patrick coffee mugs so why aren't they married?? Idiots
○ Notes: Shout out to @sailoryooons for also writing about a daegu boy eating pussy tonight 😌 And, as usual, I wrote this with scrambled eggs for brains and didn't proofread it, so if you see any errors, no you didn't
○ Post Date: January 22, 2024
○ Masterlist | Send me ur thots
○ What was Jai listening to? Imported - Jessie Reyez ft. 6LACK
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Lately, you’ve felt like disappearing – not into a crowded city street in another country or down an unlit dirt road into the unknown, but into the warm folds of Yoongi’s hoodie. You’re already halfway there, with your fingers interlaced with his, shoved into the large front pocket, and your face tucked into his shoulder. 
“Fuck, I hate taking the bus,” he curses, his words turning into a cloud that disappears into the cold air. 
“How much time do we have?” 
Yoongi turns his head, and his lips briefly touch the cold curve of your ear. 
“You’re mumbling. What’d you say?”
“How much time until it comes?” You squint up at him, cheek still pressed against his shoulder. It’s too warm here to want to move. 
“Can’t check the app on my phone unless you give me my hands.” 
“No.” 
Yoongi chuckles and jostles your head by bobbing his shoulders. 
“I thought our date would cheer you up.” His complaint is playful, eyes sparkling in the streetlights when he returns his gaze to the empty road. You should have gotten a taxi. 
“I’m gonna die alone. Doesn’t matter how much late-night pizza I eat or how many stupid action movies I watch,” you grumble into Yoongi’s shoulder. 
“Even when the action movie lead has a super hot sex scene that’s poorly timed and irrelevant to the plot?” 
“Nope.”
“Even when the coolest guy on the entire planet was the one who took you?” Yoongi smiles cheekily, his gaze back on you. He wiggles his shoulders again, hard enough to bounce your head. 
Annoyed, you straighten up, hands still shoved in his pockets. The movie wasn’t that bad. The pizza was actually great. You’re just depressed. 
“I didn’t think it would take this long…” You whisper into the little space between your body and Yoongi’s. He knows you aren’t talking about the bus. 
Yoongi squeezes your hands inside his hoodie. The rest of you might be freezing in the winter night air, but at least Yoongi keeps your hands warm. He keeps your heart warm, too, with his sincere gaze when he looks at you. 
“You were too good for him.” 
Yoongi’s right. He’s always right. 
You’re sufficiently frozen by the time the bus finally arrives. Yoongi pays for you both because he’s trying to make life easy. No bumps in the road, no unnecessary stress. He lets you sit in a window seat so you can stare out at the blurry night scenery and have your sad main character moment for as long as it takes to get to your apartment. 
Once you arrive, he follows you inside and heads straight to the kitchen while you slump down the hall to your bedroom. The cold seeps so deeply into your bones that the sweatpants and sweater you change into barely help increase your body temperature. 
Maybe it’s because the sweatpants and sweater are your ex-boyfriend’s, and the universe wants to keep your body as cold as his heart was. 
In the kitchen, Yoongi uses a wooden spoon to stir hot chocolate in a small pot, your favorite kind that comes in a block of chocolate that melts with milk. It’s likely been years since Yoongi has made you hot chocolate. Cozy winter nights indoors were once commonplace, the two of you alternating between apartments to make each other snacks and treat cuddles like currency. The appearance of your ex put an end to the comfort you shared with Yoongi. It put an end to most things that brought you comfort. 
As you expect, Yoongi has two mugs out on the counter. You reach for yours, twisting it in your hands as you wait for him to finish. 
“Remember when Spongebob tried to become best friends with Squidward instead of Patrick?” Yoongi asks, turning off the stove. He uses a ladle to pour hot chocolate into his pink mug, then pours some into your yellow one. 
“Yes.” 
“He was Squidward. I’m just mad I didn’t get to blow up his house–” Yoongi laughs and nearly spills his drink when you smack him in the arm, “–with bubbles! With bubbles. I’m not homicidal.” 
Rolling your eyes, you set down your mug next to Yoongi’s, both drinks too hot to drink quickly. 
“Thank you,” you mumble, hooking your finger into his hoodie pocket and tugging lightly, the action absentminded. You keep your eyes cast downward because you don’t want him to see your tears if they run. “I’m sorry I’ve been in such a shitty mood. I know it’s been a while, but, it just… I don’t know. I can’t stop thinking about him, and everything fucking hurts…” 
Yoongi slips his fingers under your sleeve and circles your wrist, pulling your hand away from his pocket so he can lace your fingers together. They’re so much warmer now, defrosted by the heat blasting through your apartment and Yoongi’s hot chocolate. 
“Maybe you could start by not wearing his clothes?” Yoongi offers quietly. “Can’t imagine it’s easy to get over someone when you keep them on your body like that.” 
You sniffle and nod. Again, Yoongi is always right. 
“Easier said than done…” you mumble, giving him a weak smile when you finally meet his eyes. There’s something there in his expression, something that seems different. 
You don’t move away when Yoongi steps closer, even when he has you backed against the counter, even when you feel like you’re going to swallow your heart. 
“I could take them off for you,” Yoongi says softly. He lets go of your sleeve to pinch the hem of your sweater, tugging it lightly. “If you can’t do it, I can.” 
“Yeah?” You feel out of breath, maybe because you suck in your stomach when Yoongi’s fingers brush against it. 
“Yeah,” he echoes, fingers sliding along your ribs as he pushes your sweater up. “So you can get over him.” 
It’s a terrible idea, but your stomach flutters when he looks at you with sleepy eyes weighed down by the late hour and lust. He bites his bottom lip, and you feel your resolve slip as easily as Yoongi’s fingers do beneath your clothes. 
“I want to.” The declaration is desperate, and for a moment, you can’t do anything but stare into Yoongi’s eyes with an all-consuming sadness that eats at your insides, gnawing on bones and biting holes into your lungs. “God, Yoongi, I want to.” 
Yoongi touches his forehead to yours, making you close your eyes because he’s too close and you’re too much of a coward. 
“I’m sorry,” Yoongi whispers. His voice is as gentle as his hands on your bare waist, his thumbs caressing your sensitive skin. 
You raise your arms for Yoongi to pull off your sweater. He’s confident when he squeezes your tits, doesn’t even seem caught off guard when he realizes you’re not wearing anything under the sweater. He brushes his thumbs over your nipples as he leans in to kiss you, his tongue tasting sweet from the hot chocolate when he flicks it against yours. 
“Yoongi,” you call out with an airy sigh that harmonizes nicely with the sound of him sucking open-mouthed kisses down your neck. 
“Hmm?” Yoongi hums against the base of your throat, the vibration sending a tingling sensation straight to your clit. He keeps one hand on the counter beside your waist, caging you in, while his other hand cups your pussy over your sweatpants. 
“Oh,” you gasp, your hands immediately finding Yoongi’s firm shoulders when he starts rubbing your clit, occasionally dipping his fingers lower to press against your entrance, soaking the fabric. 
“These are his, too, right?” 
“Y-yes,” you moan as Yoongi pulls down your sweatpants, taking your underwear with them. 
You can’t say you never thought about how attractive Yoongi is; it’s hard to ignore. It’s just that Yoongi is your best friend. If anything were to happen between the two of you, you don’t know if you’d be able to survive losing him, too. You love him. 
But you also love your ex. 
It’s hard to think about that, though, with two of Yoongi’s fingers pumping in and out of your pussy. They’re long, reaching deeper than your own can when you finger yourself, always late at night when you’re lonely. It never feels good after. The clarity always seems to hit too quickly, like being dunked in a pool of ice water. 
Three months. That’s how long it’s been since another person touched you, since you found out your ex-boyfriend had been cheating on you. You didn’t realize how much you missed it until you’ve got your head thrown back and your thighs quivering as Yoongi fucks you with his fingers. You nearly climb up the counter, both wanting him to touch you more and trying to get away because it’s too good. 
Your ex never searched for the spot that would make your legs shake, but Yoongi does. He curls his fingers against your front wall and keeps up his rhythm, moving with your body when you can’t control where it goes. 
“Fuck, right there.” You’re burning up, veins turned to lava that’s rushing toward your core as Yoongi fucks you closer and closer to your orgasm until you’re on the verge of tears because you haven’t been touched in so long and you’re so lonely and you weren’t good enough. You weren’t enough. 
“Wanna make you cum,” Yoongi groans, deep and gravelly, between licking a stripe up your tits and sucking your nipples. 
“Please,” you moan, “Please, I’m so close.” 
Your arousal gushes around his fingers, slicking them up and making your pussy squelch when Yoongi flutters them inside you. He keeps his thumb pressed against your clit, almost too hard. It stops you from bucking your hips, but you can barely stand as it is. 
Yoongi’s lips are back on yours, red from sucking your nipples until it hurt. He whispers against your lips and opens his mouth to let you suck on his tongue with a pathetic whimper. 
“Not yet, though.” 
“Wha– Yoongi, no–” It’s embarrassing how loudly you cry out when Yoongi slips his fingers out of your pussy. You feel the fire in your core simmer until you’re left with a painfully throbbing clit and your juices smeared on your inner thighs. 
“Shhh, you know I always take care of you.” Yoongi shuts you up with a bite to your bottom lip. He leans down slightly to squeeze the backs of your thighs and hoist you up onto the counter. “Lean back.” 
The cold marble counter sends shivers across your body, but it can’t keep up with the heat of Yoongi’s mouth on your pussy. He kisses your lips so gently that you think you might actually cry before he pushes your thighs back, opening you up. 
“Oh fuck,” you moan as Yoongi goes straight for your clit, sucking on it as he swirls his tongue around it. You dig your hands into his hair and tug the strands hard enough to make him moan into your pussy. “Use your, use–” 
Yoongi laps at your clit in quick, consistent bursts that fall in line with the tempo he’s fucking you to with two fingers again. His free hand presses against your lower abdomen, keeping your body taunt so you don’t buck into his face or curl inward. It’s bad enough that you can’t stop your legs from shaking when one rests on his shoulder and the other drapes over the crook of his arm. 
It’s messy and loud, Yoongi licking and sucking your pussy like he really is trying to empty your mind of everything but the way the tip of his hot, wet tongue feels swirling your clit and the stretch of his fingers when he slips a third inside you and focuses on massaging the sensitive part of your walls. It’s working. He completely consumes your senses, down to how gorgeous he looks staring at you from between your thighs. 
Your Yoongi, fingerfucking you and sucking your clit like you’re his favorite meal. 
You try not to bang your head against the counter when you finally cum, instead focusing the overwhelming energy into pulling Yoongi’s hair to keep his face in your pussy.
He continues fucking you with his fingers through your orgasm, to the point that you can’t lie still any longer. 
“Yoongi, oh my god, Yoongi, it’s too much,” you whimper and gasp, thighs closing around his head until he finally eases his fingers out of you. 
Strings of your arousal connect his lips with your pussy until he swipes his tongue along his bottom lip, cutting them off. His bangs are pushed off his forehead and his hair sticks up from you pulling on it, but his eyes sparkle and his cheeks are just as rosy as his pink, slicked-up lips. 
“Shit,” Yoongi murmurs, leaning over you on the counter to kiss you. He shoves his tongue in your mouth and lets you suck your juices from it. 
You think you taste better on Yoongi’s tongue than on your ex’s. 
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Disclaimer: All my writing is fictional and for entertainment purposes only. None of these characters are meant to actually represent the real people mentioned in the stories. 
All rights reserved © @gimmethatagustd​ - Do not copy, repost, modify, or translate any of my writing. Do not use my writing for any AI purposes whatsoever. Do not use my fics for anything aside from reading and commenting on them. My fics will only be posted on this Tumblr and on AO3 (gimmethatagustd & daddytaehyungie). Request an AO3 account here. 
@jooniesxbby @seokteoksworld @taegeum @dprmoon @chimmisbae
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roosterforme · 6 months
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Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 2 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: The collection of letters that Bradley received from the fourth grade class provides him with entertainment while deployed. He takes the time to answer their questions and send a package back to the United States via air mail. But he has your email address. He also has a bit of a crush and some questions himself.
Warnings: Fluff, language
Length: 4100 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader
Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist
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A few days later, when Bradley was done with his training protocols for the day, he returned to his bunk with a different mission in mind. While he unzipped his flight suit, he eyed the box which was taking up most of his nightstand, and a smile found its way to his lips. He managed to find a notebook that nobody wanted along with a thick, padded envelope, and he was going to take the time to respond to the fourth graders who wrote to him. 
He'd spent hours poring over the letters, laughing at some of the questions from the kids and frequently picking up that one photo. He couldn't stop going back for more. For another look at you. Just one more look. Okay, this really was the last one. He had to toss it across the small room toward his duffel so he could focus on something other than your smile and the fact that he might have a tiny crush on a fourth grade teacher who knew absolutely nothing about him. Yet.
The note from Jayden was on the top, and Bradley opened it up and started to jot down a response.
Jayden,
It was so nice to hear from you and the rest of your class. To answer your pertinent questions, I am currently stationed on the USS Theodore Roosevelt. The most disgusting food in the mess hall is easily the cabbage rolls (which taste nothing like cabbage... or rolls). The best food in the mess hall is surprisingly the meatloaf. And yes, I would love to see a photo of your Cocker Spaniel. Please send one next time. I hope you're studying and doing your best in school.
Lt Bradley Bradshaw
The next note he decided to tackle was the one from Violet who had the tiniest handwriting he'd ever seen. The page had at least fifteen questions written out, but he decided to answer just a few for her. He had to squint as he skimmed through them again.
Violet,
You seem very inquisitive. That's a great quality to have, especially if you want to be a pilot someday. No, I did not attend the Naval Academy. I went to the University of Virginia. Yes, the Navy is way better than the Air Force. Yes, I can hold my breath underwater for three minutes. Yes, they actually made me do it. No, I don't think I could make it as a Navy SEAL. Yes, I have been staying hydrated and getting enough sun, thanks so much for asking. Keep studying hard, because you have a lot of school ahead of you before officer training.
Lt Bradley Bradshaw
Okay, so this was actually a lot of fun. Up next was a response to the note from Oliver, which made Bradley laugh every time he looked at it. 
Oliver,
Thank you so much for drawing the different Naval aircrafts for me. I hate to break it to you, but I actually do not fly the F-35 Lightning II. Yes, I know they look 'sickeningly cool'. Yes, I know it would be like 'slam dunking off the back of a dragon'. I guess I never knew I was jealous of those pilots until right now.... But I fly the equally cool if not quite as sickening looking F/A-18 Super Hornet. And yes, I would be more than happy to draw my own version of one for you. See below.
Lt. Bradley Bradshaw
The ten minutes he spent replicating his own aircraft to the best of his ability for Oliver churned out a pretty damn good result. He fished his phone out of the nightstand and took a picture to email to Nat when he had time, because she would find this whole thing amusing. Then he reached for the letters from Harrison, Nia and Jackie. He wrote his responses, and after a bit, he had a decent sized stack of letters all ready to go back to the fourth graders.
After a few more days, he worked his way through the entire class, and each kid would soon have a handwritten response on the way. He just needed to figure out what he wanted to say to you. The pretty teacher from the class photo that he now kept tucked in with his personal items. He worked on that one last, writing your full name at the top of the page and wishing you didn't go by the very non-specific Ms. which gave him zero clue as to whether or not you were married.
The package you sent was the nicest piece of deployment mail I have ever received. Thank you. I'm lucky it ended up in my hands. I'm impressed by how much all of your students have learned about aviation this year. I just hope I did them justice in regards to the questions they had for me.
I also hope you don't mind that I replied to each kid individually. They had some very amusing stories and questions, and I wanted to acknowledge all of them. But there was one question in particular that I was asked so many times, I thought I'd answer it here instead. My call sign is kind of a silly one, so it's okay if you all laugh. I go by Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw, and my helmet is mostly red, yellow and black.
Your kids seem like a fun bunch, but I bet they keep you on your toes. Feel free to let them know they can write back to me again, but please include my name on the package this time. I don't know that I'd be lucky enough to have it fall into my hands again by chance. I'll just be here somewhere in the middle of the Pacific Ocean for a few more months, ready to answer any questions you throw at me. Hope to hear back from you soon.
Yours Truly,
Lt Bradley Bradshaw
The following day, he packed everything up and dropped it off with the rest of the ship's outgoing mail. There was a rumor that a helicopter would be coming to pick it up in the next day or two, and he wanted to make sure it got back to California and those fourth graders as soon as possible. On his way back to his bunk, Bradley stopped by the lounge to see if there was an iPad free, hoping to send a quick email or two. He was in luck. He also happened to have your email address memorized.
--------------------------
You yawned at your desk and checked the time on your computer. Within the next ten minutes, your classroom would go from silent solitude to mass chaos, so you took a minute to clear out your email inbox. You had a few messages from some parents and a reminder about Spirit Week from the superintendent. And a random piece of junk mail that must have slipped through the spam filters. You didn't know anyone with a US Navy email address, and you didn't know anyone named Bradley Bradshaw.
As you closed your laptop, you gasped and tried to pry it back open again as quickly as you could. The Navy! The package you sent a few weeks ago! Maybe it was someone writing back to your class! Of course it could just be someone saying they were sorry that they didn't have time to engage with your students, but you figured even that was better than nothing. 
"Come on," you whispered, entering your credentials again before your inbox reappeared on your screen. The email was just a few lines long, but it was addressed to you by name. You were smiling immediately as you read it.
I just wanted to let you know that I got the mail you sent to a deployed Naval Aviator. There's a package on its way to your school for your class. It should arrive in about a week or two. Your fourth graders provided me with several hours of entertainment, and I hope they find my answers to their many (and amusing) questions useful. Thanks for the laughs, and thanks for the photos, too. Can't tell you how much I've been enjoying them. Hope to hear from all of you again.
Yours Truly,
Lt Bradley Bradshaw
You squealed and pumped your fists in the air. Someone actually got the box! And he actually responded! The other, older teachers thought you were just wasting your time when you deviated from the lesson plans a bit. Literally all of them said there was no way anyone would write back, even though you took the time to go through the proper channels at Top Gun on North Island. But now you could rub it in their faces, all thanks to Bradley Bradshaw who sounded like he'd had as much fun with this whole thing as your class had.
Then your day really started as Violet and Oliver burst into your classroom, calling out your name with excitement in their voices. The rest of your kids followed behind them, already asking about the plans for the day and what kind of adventure you'd be taking them on in each subject. 
When you clapped your hands twice and said, "Good morning," they all clapped and replied with their own greeting, and then they sat quietly with their gazes fixed on you. "Guess who I just got an email from!"
"The president!" 
"My grandma!"
"My Cocker Spaniel!"
"Oliver's grandma!"
You just shook your head and tried not to laugh as you said, "None of the above. But do you remember when we wrote and packed up those letters for a real aviator in the military to read?" Most of the kids nodded, so you added, "Well, he emailed us! And he sent us some mail that should arrive in about a week!"
And telling them that was a mistake. Because you didn't know a moment of peace after that. Every morning, you had kids rushing into the room to see if the promised piece of mail arrived yet. Every day you had to disappoint them, but you were finding yourself a little disappointed, too. You wanted to know what this Bradley Bradshaw guy sent back. 
You'd responded to his initial email letting him know you and the kids in your class were delighted to hear from him and that you would let him know when the mail he sent arrived at your school. He didn't respond, but you figured he was busy. Too busy to constantly muck about with your class while he was thousands of miles away on a deployment. 
And that was what left you standing at your desk with your mouth hanging open in awe when the padded envelope did finally arrive one morning. Because when you carefully cut it open, you found not just one letter to the class but individual handwritten notes, one for each child.
"Wow," you whispered, pulling the note with your name written on the top out of the stack. This man seemed humble and sweet, and his letter made you laugh in more than one spot as you read through it. Then you read it again. He sounded apologetic about responding to each individual kid, but you felt like your insides were melting. Who would do that? Who would take the time to give individual attention to a bunch of nine and ten year olds besides you? And you were technically getting paid to do it. 
Bradley Bradshaw seemed willing to continue to engage with your kids, and you weren't going to stop him. Because starting that morning, he became something of a legend to your class. A celebrity. A real lieutenant in the Navy replied to all of their silly questions, and their love of aviation just grew from there. You figured you were going to have to keep your lesson plans going a bit longer while their faces lit up as you walked around the room and handed them each their notes. You had taken the time to skim them beforehand, often laughing at his sense of humor which seemed to jump off the pages.
"Can we write back to him?" Jayden asked as everyone read their notes from Lieutenant Bradshaw. "I have more questions."
You smiled and nodded. "Yes, you may write back to him." Then you postponed your geology lesson until the next day and let them spend the next forty minutes writing some followup letters. You took some pictures of them diligently toiling away at their desks, excitement on their faces. Then you bit your lip and sat down at your own desk.
As you started to construct an email letting him know the envelope had arrived, your thoughts drifted to what he might be like. Humble and sweet, for sure. But he also made it a point to tell you that the box from your class was the best piece of mail he'd ever received while deployed. Maybe he was a little bit lonely. Maybe he was single. Maybe he was stationed on the west coast. Your thoughts started to get ahead of you, and it was hard to reel them in when you imagined him excited to see another email from you. Smiling when he was handed another box from your class during mail call.
Dear Lt Bradley Bradshaw,
We got the envelope from you today, and my kids are absolutely thrilled! I'm not sure if you know how hard it can be to wrangle eighteen fourth graders all at one time, but they are currently sitting quietly and working on new letters for you to read. Once again, please don't feel obligated to continue correspondence if you're too busy. I'm sure you have other people you could be writing to who want your attention as well. I just wanted you to know they are overjoyed that a Naval officer took the time to answer their questions about aviation.
I have attached some photos as proof that they are sitting still. Thanks again for making their day.
You signed your name at the bottom the way you always would from your work email account, and then you attached the photos. After a brief debate about adding the selfie you took with Violet where most of your face was visible, you decided to just go for it. Adding it to the mix wouldn't hurt anything. It wasn't like this semi mystery man would be up all night thinking about you. 
But you found that you were still thinking about him when you went home to your silent house and made dinner that evening. Maybe he was a little bit lonely, but maybe you were, too.
-------------------------
It was amazing how infrequently Bradley found himself thinking about Vanessa. He was busier now with his duties picking up a bit more as his deployment wore on, but even when he was tired and in his bunk at night, his thoughts seldom settled on her like he was afraid they might. He didn't miss her or her half-hearted emails, and he wasn't craving the connection of reunion sex with her. 
Instead, he was thinking about what a group of fourth graders were learning about this week and what their cute teacher was up to. It had been a few days since you emailed him, letting him know that his package was delivered to your school. You made it sound like the kids were excited that he sent it in the first place, and when he really thought about it, he supposed some officers would have just eaten the snacks and tossed the notes in the trash.
He didn't reply to the email yet, still thrown off a bit by the pictures you attached. Your classroom was vibrant, and the kids were absorbed as they worked on more notes for him to read whenever they happened to be delivered to the carrier. But the photo with you in it held his attention longer than it should have. The fact that you were working at a school that was just a handful of miles from his damn house made him feel warm.
But what would he do about it? What could he do about it? Nothing. He didn't want you to think he was creepy. He still knew essentially nothing else about you. The only thing he could do was keep it friendly if not professional. Unless of course you did something to push the boundaries of conversation into a more personal realm. God, if you did....he didn't think he would be able to handle it. 
The next day, when he was heading out on deck to talk to the mechanics who were doing regular maintenance on the aircrafts, he took his phone. "Hey, you mind if I take a few photos of some of the engine parts? I want to send them to a class of fourth graders who will think it's cool."
"Go ahead, Lieutenant," the head mechanic replied. Then he smiled and asked, "You dating a teacher?"
Well. Wouldn't that be something? Bradley would never run out of curious pen pals. He would always have some fourth graders to take interesting photos for and to send notes to. He'd always have a classroom to visit as soon as he got home from a deployment.
He couldn't help but picture you as the teacher.
"Nothing like that," he replied, his voice a little gravelly. "Just writing to some kids who are learning about aviation."
After dinner, when he had a chance to use an iPad in the lounge, he did his best to put together a response to your email that would at least hint at the curiosity he felt. 
If all it takes is mail from three thousand miles away to get your class to sit quietly, then I should probably be writing to you every day. But I'm sure you're a great teacher. That's a given considering how much your students learned and shared with me. And I can assure you that I'm more than happy to take the time to write to your class. And you. Please don't think I feel obligated, because I do not. I want to.
I have attached a few pictures of some F/A-18 engine components as well as some of my cockpit controls. Each photo is labeled, but please let me know if you have any questions.
It was nice hearing from you.
Yours Truly,
Lt Bradley Bradshaw 
As soon as he hit send, he wanted to kick himself. Should he have included a photo of his face like you had twice now? Or did he already sound too desperate to hear from you and your class again?
"Shit," he muttered, looking around the lounge as if there was going to be someone here proficient in the art of getting to know a fourth grade teacher without sounding stupid. But it was too late now. All he could do was wait for the next mail call or hope you decided to write back to his ramblings by the next time he checked his email. 
-----------------------------
You were going to have to scrape your jaw off the floor. You had no idea what this man's face even looked like, but his hands were... something else. And his thighs... well, they were pretty great, too. It must have been too long since you got laid, because you were sitting at your desk in your classroom staring at the set of photos in your inbox, currently unable to look away from his right hand. It was wrapped around the throttle of his aircraft. It was elegant with attractive veins and rough calluses. You were sure that you were supposed to be focusing on the cockpit controls, but all you could see was that hand and his thick, muscular thighs below.
The next photo was no better for you. He was holding up his helmet with his call sign Rooster emblazoned across the front, and you were able to see his left ring finger. There was no wedding band. There was no evidence of an outline where a wedding band would belong. There was just his big, strong hand.
You whimpered softly while your students worked on their math tests. You couldn't help it as you took one last look before logging out of your email account. And now you needed to know if his face matched the very attractive image you had in your mind. 
When Jayden called your name, you rocketed to your feet like you'd been caught red handed. "Yes?" you squeaked, your voice sounding higher pitched than usual.
"I'm done with my test. May I have the hall pass and use the restroom?"
You handed it to him as the rest of your class finished working through the math problems. A few minutes later, when you collected the papers from them, Violet asked, "When is Lieutenant Bradshaw going to write back to us?"
It had only been a few days since you mailed him the second box of notes and some more snacks, but it made you happy that they were all so invested in learning more from him. 
"It will probably be a few weeks before we get anything in the mail. However... he did email me some pictures of engine and cockpit parts from the aircraft carrier for me to share with you guys." When you looked around the room, the kids were on the edges of their seats, excited expressions on their faces. With a laugh you added, "I was going to wait until tomorrow and use the projector to show them all to you, but if you're very well behaved for the rest of the afternoon, maybe I could pull them up on my computer for you to see them today."
Not two hours later, you were just as excited as the kids were to look at the photos... again. As they crowded around your desk, you opened up the first one of the cockpit to a barrage of questions. 
"Is that really his jet?"
"Is that the throttle?"
"What do all the buttons do?"
"Was this right before he flew it?"
Once again you were distracted, but you managed to click over to the next photo, and the kids gasped in delight. 
"His helmet is so cool!"
"It says Rooster!"
"That's his call sign!"
"Red is my favorite color!"
You just smiled softly and laughed. "Should we go ahead and start working on another list of questions for him?" you asked as you slowly scrolled through the rest of the pictures. "He said we can write back to him as much as we want to." When everyone cheered, you handed Oliver a marker and pointed to the board at the front of the classroom. "Let's start making a list."
You listened to all of your students call out questions for Bradley while Oliver wrote them down. Then Violet asked, "Can he send us a picture of his whole jet? From the outside of it?"
You cleared your throat and added, "Maybe he could get someone else to take the picture so he could stand in front of it. For size comparison."
Violet nodded, but you knew you were a fraud. Sure, it would be great for the kids to understand just how massive the F/A-18s were compared to an actual person, but you were the one who wanted to see all of Bradley. You were itching for it now. 
Later that night, you drank most of a bottle of wine and did something you promised yourself you'd never do. You logged into your work email account after nine o'clock. You skipped over the handful of unread emails from parents and clicked on the icon to compose a new message. With your liquid courage goading you on, you typed up a response to Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw and hit send before you could think twice.
Thank you for the photos. They were very enlightening. We especially liked the ones where you were showing off your cockpit. Or I did, anyway. The kids liked all of them and started on another list of questions for you. Good luck getting rid of us now. 
We were wondering if you could have someone take a picture of you standing in front of your jet. For size comparison purposes. And also because my students would like to know what you look like. Hearing from you makes our day even better.
You couldn't believe how forward you were being with this man who you'd never even met in person, but you fell asleep thinking about his hands and what they might be capable of.
-------------------------
This Bradley makes me swoon. I've never wanted to be a fourth grade teacher so badly in my life. There is something that's starting to blossom between them even though they haven't even met in person. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls
PART 3
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1K notes · View notes
anisespice · 7 months
Text
“ block boy ” || tokyo rev.
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parings: bonten x fem!reader [ mikey, kaku, sanzu, rin, ran ]
warnings: mature content ahead. MDI. cursing, mentions of violence, blood, pregnancy mentioned in ran’s, a lot of down bad behavior on both ends lol and i think that’s it.
notes: i pledge allegiance to doechii, and the absolute banger of a song that is “what it is”. literally the first thing i thought of was bonten and couldn’t get ‘em out of my head unless i wrote something down sooo here ya go lol 
notes ii: basically times where you pulled their weight when they least expected you to/when they’re not around. called the shots, took some shots, beat someone up, defended them, loving on them, stuff like this (•3•>)
tagged: @fantasycantasy, @illegalspacecow, @captaincyberqueen
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“Did the severity of the situation finally click in your thick skulls, or do I have to waste more of my breath spelling it out for you?”
When MIKEY returned from his much needed evening snooze in the break room you threatened sweetly advised him to take after working for 17 hours straight, he was expecting to return to the shitstorm he left behind. However, when he entered his office, to his muted surprise there you were, in the middle of berating a handful of subordinates nearly twice your size, all shrunk within themselves as your sharp tone pierced through them all. He stood in the doorway with a curious gaze, head tilted ever so slightly as he made sure to keep quiet so not to notify you of his presence.
Mikey took note of your hip popped outward, balled fist rested upon it in the stance he knew all too well whenever you were on your last nerve. Knowing what those idiots did, someone was bound to stumble outta there in tears; your fury wasn’t for the weak.
You eyed the group with raised brows, expectant. “Well?”
One member was brave, or stupid enough to actually answer. He hesitated, but cleared his throat and replied, “I-It was an honest mistake…we thought the product was secured in the truck already when we made the exchange, b-but-”
“B-B—Bullshit. You were given specific instructions to check the inventory to make sure those smarmy assholes weren’t trying pull a fast one, and you were too careless to do a full sweep. You failed abortions not only made Bonten look like complete amateurs, but you added more nonsense for my man to deal with all because you didn’t check the back of the goddamn trucks!”
You flung the clipboard you were holding at the guy’s head, making them all duck around to avoid getting hit, only one unlucky sucker wasn’t as quick as the wooden projectile got him right in the nose. He yelped, no doubt it was broken with the sheer amount of force you put in the throw. Mikey barely flinched, but he did blink a few times in astonishment.
“You’re gonna hunt those fuckers down like dogs and make right of your ‘mistake’ by the end of today, or I’m gonna have Sanzu chop you into pieces and throw you in the Shinano River-!” Mikey cleared his throat.
You swiftly looked over your shoulder at the noise, mood doing a complete 180 when you locked eyes with the object of your affection, skittering over to wrap him in your arms. “Oh! Jiro, baby, I didn’t hear you come in.”
“‘s okay..” he leaned into your warmth, eyes hooded as he graced you with a faint, sleepy grin. “Didn’t want to interrupt your.. meeting. Seemed serious.”
You playfully rolled your eyes. “Just doing a little ‘housekeeping’ until you got enough rest, that’s all.”
He slowly nodded, lips pursed. “Could’ve sworn I pay good money for people to do that for me.”
“You do, but I was already here. Figured it was more productive to handle it myself rather than waste time looking for someone available. Besides, had to make sure you didn’t try to sneak your narrow butt back in here to continue working—We both know I’m the only one around here who can keep you in check.”
He couldn’t argue with that.
“Mm.. can’t say you don’t fill the role of boss rather nicely. It suits you. Should have you do it more often.”
Though you were sure he was teasing you, you couldn’t help but feel yourself grow warm at his praise. You lightly hit his arm, bashful. How this was the same woman who struck fear in a room full of criminals was beyond comprehension, but he wouldn’t have it any other way.
Speaking of which.. Mikey couldn’t help but notice the said group of subordinates silently begging for him to reconsider in his peripheral, hands clasped in prayer while the one with the busted nose bowed deeply to the floor, forehead to hardwood. It was as if the idea of you being in charge any longer brought them great despair. How interesting.
Huffing through his nose, Mikey placed a loving kiss on your forehead whilst eyeing the group behind majority of his stress for the day, void of any remorse as he coldly spoke.
“Matter of fact.. think ‘m still feeling a little tired, angel. How about you handle another hour f’me? Or two?”
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The silence was deafening as the dual-color eyed man avoided looking at you while you stitched him up without a word. When you were greeted by a bleeding KAKUCHO at your doorstep a little past midnight, pale in the face and could barely stand, there were no questions asked as you quickly escorted him into your home, setting him gently on the couch before you sprung for your first aid in the kitchen. He wasn’t sure what he could say in that moment, feeling like a complete moron for even showing up looking like he fled a crime scene which he kinda did but that’s besides the point. Your relationship was still in the budding phase, just starting to get a feel of one another as you tested the waters.
Well, consider the waters tested.
“You’re not really an undercover cop, are you?”
Kakucho gulped. He slowly shook his head, eyes trained on his lap while yours felt like they were burning holes right through him. You nodded as you continued carefully stitching him up. It wasn’t the best, but it would hold him over until he got proper medical attention. At first, he figured that would be all you said to him. But, when you completed dressing the wound, you asked a follow up question. “It’s something illegal, isn’t it?”
He couldn’t bring himself to answer, his strained grip on his pant leg enough response. Kakucho half expected you to berate him, curse him for potentially endangering your life, for lying.
“.. forgive me..” he croaked, bowing his head.
He felt sick to his stomach, he couldn’t bear the thought of you despising him, but he’d honor your wishes without protest if you never wanted to see him again…
However, what he didn’t expect was for you cup the sides of his face and bring his wavering gaze to your soft one. You smiled endearingly at the bewilderment that overcame his ashamed expression, him blinking at you widely with tears hanging onto his lashes like a wounded puppy. Your thumb ghosted over the tiny droplets, careful not to aggravate the bruise forming around the socket.
Leaning forward to shower him with tender kisses, Kakucho was at a crossroad—One side wanted nothing more than to melt into a puddle of goo, but the other refused to believe that he wasn’t hallucinating, waiting for the sick twisted punchline of this dream come true. Feeling him still so tense in your hold, you leaned back with your smile still present.
“This doesn’t change how I feel about you, Hitto.”
Kakucho blinked. Then, he meekly replied. “W-what?”
You coyly tilted your head, “To be honest, I always figured there was something…off about you. Like, you were holding something back. My first guess was that you were seeing other women-”
“Never.” His eyes switched from uncertain to stern in a matter of seconds, as if the implication alone repulsed him. He softened once you giggled at his declaration, patting his leg in reassurance.
“I know. You’re much too sweet to be a player. I pondered over it for a while, thought back to how we usually met up late at night, or you would have to leave at odd times. My second guess was your work just kept you really busy.. and after tonight.. after all of this,” you gestured at the blood stains everywhere, “safe to say I was on the right track.”
Kakucho hesitated. “And that doesn’t…put you off?”
“That you’re a thug?” He winced, but nodded. The silence that followed behind was borderline suffocating, leaving his hands sweaty and nerves shot as he anticipated your response with baited breath. But, he didn’t need to worry.
With a loving coo, you placed a kiss to the corner of his mouth, right over the split in his lip causing him to flinch slightly at the sting, but he welcomed the affection all the same. However, when your warm tongue peeked out to soothe the cut in slow, teasing swipes, homie nearly choked.
Kaku’s jaw fluttered open as a soft gasp escaped him next, the sensation foreign but not unpleasant as he felt his entire face heat up like a furnace. Your sudden proximity forced him back on the couch while you slid down to the floor betwixt his spread legs, making his head spin; this wasn’t going like how he thought it would at all. Being careful of his stitches, your arms rested on either side of him as your tongue explored his mouth, making him groan softly at the feeling of the wet muscle tangling around his so earnestly, hand reaching up instinctively to caress the side of your face as he deepened the kiss. His other hand held your waist, gripping your shirt as if he couldn’t believe you were there—That you wanted to stay.
The ravenette’s breath hitched when he felt one of your hands trailing up his thigh, slowly but surely making your way to his stiffening cock confined in his pants. Slightly startled, Kakucho pulled back from the heated kiss, a string of saliva still keeping you connected as you panted in each other’s mouths. Before he could question what you were up to, he cuts himself off with a whimper when you palmed his thick shaft while maintaining intense eye contact, a smile on your face as you sent the gangster into paradise when you sweetly whispered:
“Always wanted to be a ride or die.”
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It was as if someone pushed him into an alternate dimension.
Not even moments ago, you were showing SANZU a cute tiktok of a kitten wrapped up like a burrito and mewing dramatically, nearly tearing up at the sight as you tugged on his arm and pleaded for him to buy you one just like it. Having bought out the entire evening in one of Tokyo’s most exclusive five star restaurants for your anniversary, Sanzu figured it’d be nothing more than a simple night with his lovely wife. Man’s must’ve forgot who he was.
When those fools tried an ambush on him, Sanzu was more than happy dealing with them quickly by just airing them out until his gun was empty. Although, as he went reaching for it, imagine his shock when you held his wrist to stop him. You had a different sentiment.
It was like a scene out of one of his most crazed fantasies. His lovely wife, holding his beloved katana to an enemy’s throat, covered in the blood of his comrades as he sobbed pathetically for you to spare him. As if Beatrix Kiddo entered the chat, you sliced into them with a swiftness, shredding through them all like paper; a dinner and a show. He wasn’t sure when you learned how to wield the weapon with such grace and precision, but he couldn’t care less when his pants were this fucking tight. But he couldn’t let you have all the fun, watching your six any time a goon tried to get the jump on you while your back was turned, Sanzu was quick to bust a cap right between their eyes. After spilling gallons of blood from the opposition, leaving one still standing, you decided to play with him a little bit.
“P-Please! I-if you let me go, you’ll never see my face again, I-I swear! I was just..just following orders, I-”
“Oh, c’mon, where’s your conviction from earlier, huh? You were so confident before I minced all your friends. What was it you said you’d do to me once you killed my husband? Can’t seem to put my finger on it…Haru, darling, do you recall?”
Sanzu, with his chin placed atop his interlocked fingers like a smitten fool, smoothly answered, “Said he’d ‘Fuck you raw on top of my corpse’.”
You winked. “Bingo. Thank you, handsome.”
“Welcome, gorgeous.”
The sniveling man yipped when the blade nicked his skin, a thin stream of blood flowing in its wake as you pressed it closer to his throat. His heart rate paced like a rabbit caught in a trap, nostrils flaring as he breathed sporadically while his life laid in the palm of your hand.
“Guess that didn’t go according to plan, aw.” You sardonically cooed, spurring on a bit of rage as he gritted out a dry ‘Fuck you’ in his final efforts of showing dominance. “Oo, there’s that passion we were missing!~ Let’s see how much more I can carve outta yo-”
Hearing the sound of faint sirens in the distance, Sanzu clicked his tongue in annoyance. With a grumble the pinkette popped a piece of his steak in his mouth and spoke between chews as he cocked his gun, “Alright, [_____], playtime’s over. We gotta haul ass.”
You pouted. “But, we didn’t get to fuck on top of his corpse...”
Sanzu swallowed, hard. He couldn’t help but internally groan with desire at your innocent display of vulgarity, tempted to take you up on that offer, but the last thing he wanted was for you to be involved in a standoff with the cops. You’ve proven you can handle yourself very well, a lot more than he realized that’s for sure, but you were still his precious baby at the end of the day.
Better to keep you out of danger than thrust you in more of it, no matter how much the thought excited him.
“Next time, pretty baby.”
You huffed. “Fine.”
Without hesitation, you strummed the man’s throat like a cello, the katana tearing through the skin with ease. The symphony of gurgles that escaped him sent shivers down Sanzu’s spine as he watched in manic glee as the man choked on his own blood. You never looked more stunning covered in red and holding his blade like it belonged in your hand, he wanted nothing more than to ravish you on the spot, but as the sirens drew near he tamed his urges just this once. You took his extended hand gratefully, swaying them as you both rushed for the restaurant’s back exit.
Once outside, while he scoped out the area for any cops patrolling, you nudged him. When he turned to see you beaming at him whilst blood stained your face, he swore his heart skipped a beat. “What?”
“You’re getting me a kitten to make up for this, right, Haru?”
He raised a brow, but exhaled a chuckle. “Sweetheart. Show off that violent side of yours more often, and you can have as many as you want.”
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“You good, ma?” A delightful shiver ran down your spine and straight to your pussy.
That was always the visceral response your body had whenever RINDOU spoke, especially low and intimately in your ear. From either gently waking you first thing in the morning, or to secretly shit-talk in crowed areas, it was his go-to method to getting your attention effortlessly. A dangerous method, one that was about to make you act up in front of all these important clients, decorum be damned.
“I am now,” you purred, falling back into his embrace as strong arms came vining around your waist. He chuckled softly, pressing a kiss to your temple as he gently swayed you both to the rhythm of the soft jazz playing over the speakers of the ballroom.
“Missed me that bad, huh.” You nodded with a slight pout, turning in his hold to stare up longingly into his eyes. They were lidded, heady. Another dangerous method of your husband’s that made you weak in the knees—his undivided attention. “Bored?”
“So fucking bored,” you whined, tugging on his lapels. “These things are always such a drab..”
Rindou hummed, hands slowly slipping down from your waist to hold your hips. You tensed slightly, not even bothering to mask the second shiver it caused. His grin turned sharp in response, head tilting. “Ya sure that’s what has you so out of it?”
You tilted yours, confused. He continued, “You’re not as subtle as you think you are. You’ve been eye-fucking me for the past ten minutes. Came over to make sure you weren’t dripping all over the damn floor—”
“Shut up,” you jabbed him in the side, face boiling. Rindou barely flinched, squeezing your hips as he snickered cheekily at your embarrassment. “You’re so irking...”
“Yeah?”
“Yes. If you knew I was horny, I could’ve been folded on my back ten minutes ago.”
“Hm, almost as if I was doing something important, like…” he trailed off, making you squint and almost jab him again until he grabbed your hand in the last second, bringing it to his chest with a smug grin, “working.”
You huffed, “I’m important too…do me.”
Rindou snorted, but brought your hand up to gently kiss the inside of your wrist with a tender look in his eyes. “‘course you are, baby. Didn’t know it would go for this long, ‘m sorry.”
“Then, how ‘bout you and I take a little…smoke break,” you suggested, hopeful; desperate. However, it’s futile when your husband clicks his tongue.
“No can do. Kakucho’s still not over the last time we took a ‘smoke break’ together.”
“He’s not? Seriously? We weren’t even gone for that long!”
He raised a brow. “[______]. The check made it back to the table before we did.”
You groaned, exasperated as you wiggled around in his hold. Rindou merely watched in mirth, not even phased as he let you finish your tiny tantrum. He teasingly cooed, “I know, I know. Poor thing can’t go a day without something plugging up her slutty little hole.”
“Shut up..!” You shrunk into his chest to hide away from the sultry words spoken directly in your ear, thighs clenching together as his deep chuckle came soon after.
Rindou was very much aware of your voice kink. It filled his ego to the brim with how needy you were, crumbling anytime he so much as spoke to you in a certain way. There’s nothing he wanted more than to ditch and bury himself in your thighs, giving it to you however you wished, for as long as you wished, whispering praises to you with a sprinkle of degradation in there to keep you craving for more of his soothing voice. But, unless he wanted his nuts handed to him on a silver platter by his stickler of a superior, you were just gonna have to wait.
And he knew how much you hated doing that.
“Ten minutes.”
He sighed. “[_____]…”
“Five minutes?”
“We can’t-“
“A minute, god, I don’t even have to finish, Rin, please.” You whined in his ear, forcing him to close his eyes as a means to strengthen his resolve. It didn’t do much help when your arms wrapped around his neck to gently rake your manicured nails against the nape, your thigh deliberately rubbing up against the growing erection confined in his dress pants. The tables had turned with a shiver now running down his spine, mind turning to mush as common sense slowly sunk into his dick. Maybe…sparing just a few minutes wouldn’t hurt.
Even though the lavender-haired gangster couldn’t see your face, he was certain you were grinning victoriously at the sound of his resolve breaking instantly, the slow exhale through his nose being all the confirmation necessary. Clearly, you weren’t the only one who was needy.
Swallowing down a groan, he hissed through clenched teeth, “You’re gonna be the death of me, y’know that?”
Giggling, you were already leading him toward the nearest exit, swiftly evading the eyes of his coworkers, satisfied that you were getting exactly what you wanted in the end.
“Better me than Kaku.”
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“Like I’ve already explained to you, Officer. My husband’s been here all day. Dunno if you’ve noticed, but he can’t exactly afford to leave my side for more than ten minuets let alone an entire evening.”
Despite gesturing to your swollen stomach and the small child shyly peering from behind your leg, the cop still fixed you with a skeptical look. You did your best to remain unnerved, providing comfort for not only your son but yourself as you ran your fingers through his hair. Apparently, there had been a shootout that happened in the streets of Tokyo, and apparently a witness was able to describe one of the shooters…
Henceforth, the unexpected visit from law enforcement. Again.
“Mhm. And, may I ask, where exactly your husband is now? Surely if he’s been tending to his pregnant wife, he wouldn’t have her answering the front door.” He raised an eyebrow, wry grin stretched across his face.
You worked your jaw, annoyed. “In the shower.”
“How convenient. Washing off the blood, I assume?”
“You can assume whatever you want, it doesn’t change my answer. He’s been here, with us. Whoever said they saw him was mistaken. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got mouths to feed. Have an evening, Officer.”
“Now, hold on—”
Without an ounce of hesitation, or care, you slammed the door in his smug little face. And just like that…blissful silence. A grand weight lifted off your shoulders at the disgruntled sound of the pig’s flat-footed steps exiting out of your day. Releasing a slow exhale, your son took it upon himself to blow a raspberry at the closed door, having worked up the courage to mock the officer now that he was out of sight.
You grinned as you ruffled his hair, endearingly. “You tell ‘em, baby.”
However, that silence didn’t last long as RAN made himself known now that the coast was clear. Having hid around the corner in case things escalated, he too released an exhale, easy grin spreading across his face. Though your child was happy to see him, racing to cling onto his long legs, you merely glared in disapproval. Based off his appearance alone, disheveled and glistening with sweat, you wished your fib from earlier was true; he needed a shower.
“[S/n], don’t touch daddy right now…he stinks.”
Though a bit childish in your phrasing, Ran was well aware it held an underlying meaning, a chill running down his spine under your harsh scrutiny. He cleared his throat, somewhat nervous, as he searched his brain for honeyed words that would soothe your soreness toward him. And he laid it on thick.
“That’s ‘cause Daddy had to run the rest of the way home to make sure his babies were safe,” he leaned down to scoop up the clinging child, lightly tickling at his stomach poking out from under his pajama shirt to receive more joyous squeals. “But, Mommy scared away the big, mean police man all on her own, didn’t she?”
“Yea!” [S/n] squeaked, bright laugh bouncing off the walls as he wiggled around eagerly. You felt the corner of your lip twitch upward at the sight, but you pursed your lips to hide the impending smile—Ran noticed. He always did.
“Yeah.. we’re real lucky to have someone as wonderful as her to watch our backs whenever we’re in trouble.. right, mama?”
Your glare still remained, though not as harsh compared to moments ago. Despite the mirth swirling in his lavender gaze, you took note of something else hiding within. Something more raw, more vulnerable.
Remorse.
Ran didn’t like getting you caught up in his business. He did everything he could to ensure that none of you were ever exposed to the ugly parts of his life. Tonight, he was sloppy. He fucked up, and he knew that. The second shit hit the fan, his only priority was his family… You had every right to be livid with him, having both your son and a pregnancy to deal with virtually on your own, while also covering his ass from prying cops itching to nail him to the wall…It’s a miracle how you haven’t packed up and left him yet…
And he thanks his lucky stars that you haven’t.
With another deep exhale, you rubbed your temple. “I don’t know what it is that you do in those streets to cause such an upset, Ran-”
“For the record, tonight wasn’t exactly my fault-”
“-and I don’t care. I just…”
Your exhausted tone was more than enough to shut him up. He felt his throat tighten as he gently bounced your son on his hip to distract his increasing anxiety. The lavender-haired man mentally prepared for your scolding, already set on sleeping in the dog house if that’s what got him in your good graces again…but it doesn’t come. Eyes that were hyper focused on [S/n] fiddling with his loosened tie slowly trailed up at the sound of you huffing in, what he assumed to be, relief.
Waddling over to your boys, you reached up to caress their faces. Instinctively, they nuzzled into your palms, Ran a little more hesitant than your beaming son before reaching out with his free hand to touch your stomach. When your unborn child kicked against it in response, you noticed his shoulders visibly relax. Your thumb gently rubbed under his eye, frowning at the dark circles that formed on the pale skin. He looked solemnly into your eyes, turning his head slightly to kiss the inside of your palm. You sighed once more, eventually granting him a smile in reassurance.
Despite his abnormal lifestyle, and how hectic it could get, “I’m just glad you’re home.”
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gothamhappiness · 1 month
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You are my heaven (Bruce Wayne x f!reader) Part 2
It was supposed to be a little imagine of a dark and lonely Bruce Wayne switching place with another Bruce Wayne from a parallal universe, but I wrote more than I thought. It'll be into 2 parts, except if you ask for more. <3
You can find part 1 of this here.
Warnings: no proof reading, language, mention of blood and killing, angst/comfort
He met you up at the Italian restaurant and loved to place a hand on the small of your back. He loved even more how you instinctively leaned into his touch and side. He really couldn't go back to his world. This place was heaven, and he was going to take such good care of his new people.
He listened to everything you said and actually answered. He never checked on his phone and didn't show any sign of being in the rush. You noticed how relaxed he seemed. Just before the dessert, he even reached for your hand and gently kissed it. He openly flirted with you and did his best to make you laugh. It was his favourite sound, with your moans of pleasure.
"You're in a good mood today," You finally commented. "You even took the time to talk to the kids this morning. And not to order them stuff about patrol, " You whispered
It hit Bruce. Of course, the "kids" were the vigilantes he saw working with Batman. He couldn't imagine how amazing it must be to work with other people. To be the mentor of those people, too. Their leader. Maybe even their father? They were all so young, they clearly needed someone to be there for them. And you cared for them, like a mother.
"I... Last night was a little bit complicated, and I realise how lucky I am, that’s all," Bruce replied, hoping you might know something
"Yes, Dick and Cass told me you got attacked by that mad scientist and that he threw at you some weird potion. Luckily, nothing happened. You were a little bit dizzy when you came back home, and you instantly went to bed. I helped you undress, and you fell asleep on me, " You hummed. "Anyway, I'm happy if things…” You trailed off
“If things?” Bruce tried to get you to finish your sentence
“Could... be better, " You admitted and looked away
Bruce was speechless for a few moments. Were you saying that the Bruce of this world neglected his people? His own people? You? He fucking didn't deserve any of this then. It was making things so easy, no guilt, no mercy.
"What do you mean, love?" He asked with a tilt of the head. You still refused to meet his eyes as you answered:
"Well... You haven't been around a lot lately. I can't even remember the last time we had lunch together. And you... you aren't the nicest with the children... Jason came to see me for comfort after another argument with you. Steph had a nap with me on the couch after you pushed her too much during training..." You explained. 
You didn't want to ruin the moment, but you weren't too sure when you would be able to tell him about all of this. For once, he seemed open to the discussion and wasn’t distracted with his work. However, his silence worried you a little bit. Actually, Bruce was angry. It was obvious that the Bruce of this universe didn't know his luck. He was going to be better - oh, so much better - than him. It was a promise. He kissed your hand again
"I'm so sorry. I'll do better. With everyone." He told you, and you finally looked at him, astonished. You had expected some justifications or denials, not this.
"I'm so... relieved. Maybe you could have a little talk with all the kids? And I know that your relationships with the members of the Justice League were getting tense, too. We haven't invited the Kents at home in so long." You babbled. 
Bruce could tell how much you cared about the family and that you decided to push your luck. You wanted your children to be happy, and you wished for Bruce to do better with his friends as well. You were so caring. Bruce was falling even deeper in love with you, and he didn’t think that was possible.
"I will. I promise. What about us?" He asked. 
Of course, he was going to do his best for all those people he didn't know yet, but what he wanted the most was to be a good husband to you. He had fantasied about your life together so badly, and now that it was happening, it needed to be perfect.
You didn't reply right away, trying to quickly think.
"What about us?" You finally said
"I haven't been the best to you either," Bruce guessed
"You saw the divorce papers I asked from our lawyer, didn't you?" You internally cursed yourself. You should have been better
Bruce silently panicked but didn't show anything. Oh the fucker was really ruining everything. He needed to make you forget about this divorce. You were finally his wife, he wasn't going to lose you or let you go. You were his, like he belonged body and soul to you.
"Love,..." He started, but you cut him off
"I was just thinking about it, but I... I don't want to leave the family. It was just in case things went downhill, " You explained, a little bit concerned of what the man was thinking
"It won't," He reassuringly smiled at you
"What?"
"It won't go downhill. I'll do anything you all need from me. I'm so lucky to have all of you in my life. I can't take this luck for granted. I'll do better, " He promised
You weren't too sure Bruce wasn't lying, but you wanted to believe him so badly.
Bruce found a folder with information on all the people in Bruce's life on the batcomputer, and he was grateful for that. It allowed him to know about his history with everyone and to act on consequences. He did talk to everyone and tried to make things better. He apologised and offered his help. He took some time for everyone. He showed he was eager to make an effort. He showed he wanted everyone to be happy around him. He showed he was there for his people.
He also found the mad scientist.
He interrogated him in Arkham Asylum. The man hadn't thought a new Batman would come. He just thought it would send the Dark Knight into another world, and that was it. Bruce asked if there was a way to get the real Bruce back. The mad scientist refused to answer at first before admitting that yes, there was. After all, portals could go both ways. Bruce went to the scientist's repair and destroyed everything before paying hitmen to kill the man. There was no way he would come back to Hell. No way. He would even kill the former Bruce himself if he had to.
The night he came back from the scientist’s repair, he was his most charming self to you, bringing you a beautiful necklace full of diamonds. As he helped you put it on, he complimented you and kissed your skin. He seduced you all night.
In the bath with you, his hands never left your skin. He gently washed your body and hair. He tenderly massaged cream onto you. He covered you in kisses until you would giggle under his nonstop attention. You truly hoped Bruce would keep acting like that because you were falling back in love with him. Hard. You were happy, and you clearly didn't want to get a divorce anymore.
A few days later, you and the children had lunch all together. Without Bruce.
You all decided that a conversation was a necessity because “what was going on with the man for fuck's sake?”. It was impossible he changed that much in such a short period of time. It was obvious something happened with the mad scientist. But weirdly enough, he was now dead and his work was destroyed...
"It's not Bruce," Tim finally said
"What do you mean?" You frowned
"It's not the Bruce we knew. From what I've been able to find, the scientist was studying portals through different parallel universe" Tim added
"You're saying that... He switched of Bruces from two different worlds?" You asked
"I think it's what happened, yes." Tim nodded, and you all stayed silent for a little while
"What do we do?" Duke asked
"This Bruce is nicer," Jason commented
"And more caring," Stephanie added
"But it is not our father." Damian frowned
"But he is acting like one..." Dick replied
"And like a husband." Cass added "His body language... He is so in love with you, Y/N… Like he would do anything for you."
"I... I know.” You paused “Maybe we all deserve some happiness"
“Are you saying we should pretend we don’t know anything? Barbara asked “It’s true that the Bruce we had was… challenging, but he all saved us. And kinda took care of us. We don’t know what this man will do in the long run” she added, and you were forced to agree with her
“Let me talk to him” You offered, and everyone agreed.
You weren’t too sure when it would be the right moment to speak with your new husband about the situation.
One evening, as you were snuggled up in his embrace, you felt like it was the right time. It was only the two of you, and the day has been quite good for Bruce, so he was relaxed. You kissed his collarbone to bring his attention back to you. He instantly put his book down to look at you.
"Yes, love?" He hummed
“Who are you?” You whispered with a bite of your bottom lip
“What? You know who am I” Bruce pretended to laugh it off, but he tensed a little bit
“You’re different. The kids are little detectives, and they think you are coming from a parallel universe. And… I can believe that” You explained
“Why?” 
“Because my husband liked me, but never worshipped me like a divinity of love” You softly smiled
“Well, he should have” Bruce groaned
“So, this is true, right? You came from another universe. And the man I married is there, instead of you?” You asked
Bruce cupped your face and leaned his forehead against yours. He had been the happiest man in the world the past few weeks. He finally had everything he ever wanted and needed. He would sell his soul in exchange for keeping this life. He was terrified you would cast him away.
“He didn’t deserve you. Any of you. I guess he’s there, yes, but I don’t really know. And I don’t care. I want to stay here. Haven’t I been good to you? Don’t you want to keep me? Haven’t I been better than he was?” He pleaded.
You heard the fear and despair in his voice.
“Your world isn’t as nice as here then?” You asked 
“My Alfred died when I turned 18, so I never had the time to adopt any of the children. I did my best as Batman and CEO of Wayne Enterprises, but I’m alone and lonely. Maybe I fucked up too, because my life is a just a mess. I don’t know, but this is Heaven and my world is Hell.”
“We’re not married either?” You wondered
“I’m too much of a loser to interest you. No matter how madly in love I am with you. No matter how much I’ve always wanted to worship you. I’m so happy to finally have you as my wife. I’ll always cherish you.” He admitted and promised
You stayed silent, not knowing what to do anymore. This place was clearly a fresh and happy start for the man in front of you. But what about the Bruce Wayne of this world? Wasn’t it a cruel punishment to leave him in such a lonely place? At the same time, you weren’t sure the man you married would even take care of you like you now were. And you would miss that very much. The children deserved a better father, too. Jason actually started to hang out with this new Bruce. And now Jason knew it wasn’t the same man who betrayed him. Their relationship would be even better. There were so many advantages...
“Keep me” The man begged you “I’ll do anything you want” He whispered again
“I… do want you to stay. But I feel awful knowing he is in your world. Alone.” You admitted
“I can make you forget about him” Bruce offered before kissing you, his thoughts on ways to make everyone forget about the “real” Bruce Wayne.
He was going to stay in Heaven, no matter the price, no matter the sacrifice, no matter what. You kissed him back before gently pushing him away.
“What if he comes back?” You asked “Would you hurt him?” You continued
Bruce didn’t answer, so you knew he would kill him without hesitation. He was a love, attention, and touch starved man. He knew what it was to be so broken that nothing could work out. 
“Barbara and Damian… They need some convincing to not find a way and save the Bruce we knew. I still feel bad but… if I loved him, I know I’ve never felt for him what I’m feeling for you” You whispered
Bruce’s eyes lit up. Being loved by you because he was Bruce Wayne was a thing, but being loved by you because of who he was was so much better. He didn’t know what to say, so he deeply kissed you over and over again.
“Love you, love you so much. You’ll be happy with me. Everyone will be happy with me.” He whispered in between kisses
“You promise?” You breathlessly asked 
“I promise, my love”
--
Part 3
--
Taglist for all my work <3
@blublock404
Taglist for this series <3
@bat1212
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redflagshipwriter · 8 months
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Hot Ghouls in Your Area
Chapter 1
“A cult?” Jason blew out a bubble and enjoyed the disgusted face that Bruce made.
“Yes.” His voice was tight. Jason could tell that he wanted to turn back to the Batcomputer. “They’re operating in Park Row-”
“Crime Alley.”
Batman sighed and accepted the correction. “I would like to propose a joint operation.” He sounded so tired and not very optimistic.
Jason eyed up his on-again-off-again Father figure and popped his gum, thinking it over. Bruce clearly expected him to say no, fuck off, and take the information himself.
He could. There was nothing wrong with that.
“Sure, old man.” He clapped Bruce on the shoulder and finished screwing together the tool he’d brought in for maintenance. He’d had to fabricate a new part and the Red Hood didn’t exactly have the equipment for that in his two room apartment. “Thursday night alright?”
“They’ve a planned meeting on Wednesday, actually,” Bruce said, frowning slightly at him but looking soft around the eyes with confused hope. “Would that be possible? They seem to gather mid-week.”
Jason let out a sigh. “I can make it work. Ta, old man.” He made sure to toss off an especially insouciant salute as he sauntered away. Sure, he was willing to put a little effort into maintaining their relationship, but he couldn’t be too compliant. If you gave Bruce an hour of your time, he wrote you down on the schedule for an hour every day until one of you fuckin’ died in a warehouse explosion. Something like that.
He wasn’t that trusting, though. Jason took the information that Bruce emailed him and did his own legwork. He wasn’t stubborn enough to bother redoing digital work that Bruce had done or gotten from Babs. That would be a waste of his time, and he valued his time. But he scoped out the cult’s meeting place.
Of all the undignified things, it was a rented room in the community center. Jason found himself sheepishly breaking into the office to check on the reservation and poking around the room itself.
There was nothing special about it. It was a shitty room with shitty paneled walls and cheap, well-trodden grey carpet. It boasted a few too many tables, arranged in a U shape, and a whiteboard pushed up against the wall that hadn’t been cleaned off well enough to erase what he was pretty sure was a reference to their lord and savior, destroyed of worlds.
So. That was a point for Bruce’s cult thing.
He hadn’t really doubted it, if he was honest, given that this had originated in a tip from Zatanna. She had told him as a courtesy that some creep had moved their base of recruiting and operations into Gotham.
Apparently, recruitment was going pretty well. The room could seat like, twenty? Jason counted chairs and left.
He came back on Wednesday at 8pm with the Batman and an attempt at a good attitude. He probably wasn’t going to need any of the weapons on his person. They were going to check in so that this guy knew they had an eye on him and that he would be suspect number one if there was any hint of people or cats being sacrificed.
Bruce fucked off to peer in the windows, like the giant caped creep he was. Jason took the front door, nodded congenially at the old man in the office, and knocked at the room the cultists had reserved.
He could hear Bruce internally curse through the comm. It was silent, of course, but the quality of the silence changed. “Knock knock,” he called, since a literal knock hadn’t done it. He opened the door without waiting. “Just checking in, heard you’re new to town and that you tried to feed Zatanna’s shitty little cousin to the god of Death?”
The room stared at him. A whiteboard marker squeaked to a stop. He idly followed the sound to the board. A …. Huh. that looked like some kind of mystical bullshit.
“You’ve been touched by death,” said the fraud himself, a man in his fifties with a wildly pretentious robe that was wrinkled from the paper bag he’d clearly used to carry it in. He outstretched the hand that didn’t have a blue whiteboard marker in it. “You would be a perfect sacrifice to our Lord.”
“So will it be,” said about half the people there, at the same time a young woman said, “No shit?” in an impressed tone.
Jason rolled his eyes through the helmet, unintimidated by the room of weirdos standing up. The kind of people who gathered at a community center on a Wednesday night were not going to summon the God of Death. Light glinted off the window where Batman was clearly weighing the possibility of breaking glass and swinging in. Jason silently waved him off with a headshake. They weren’t to the point of property damage yet. He took a couple of steps into the room with deliberate swagger. “What a lucky guess,” he drawled. “The Red Hood has had brushes with death? No one but a legitimate prophet could possibly make such a statement.”
“I’m not a prophet,” said the man, and turned back to his white board. “I’m a devote.” He rubbed out a line with the meat of his hand and then hurriedly wrote in ‘The Red Hood’ in a tilted cursive. “The sacrifice!” he shouted, throwing his arms wide and accidentally making a big blue line through his evil little sigil or whatever it was. The elderly lady to Jason’s right opened up her bag, thrust her hand in, and came up with a fistful of -
“Salt?” Jason asked, confused and unimpressed as the silly twit threw her handful of salt at him. “Thanks, I’m better seasoned now,” he snarked. He pulled out a gun easily. “Alright, let’s get serious. I-”
The whiteboard was glowing. The blue letters were glowing green.
“What the fuck?” Jason said. The windows exploded with broken glass as Batman decided now was the time to make his entrance. He barely got to see it before something hooked unpleasantly on his body and soul and twisted it sideways.
The world was green now. Holy shit. Jason spun a circle on uneven ground and gaped. “...Egg on my face,” he said. “I’ve been sacrificed. Consider me embarrassed.” A quick check showed that his comm was useless. It was giving off a steady little eeee of static that kinda sounded like screams. Whimsical. Jason turned it off.
He wasn’t panicking yet. The void wasn’t that freaky. It was weird, sure, but there weren’t any demons or enemies. He flicked the safety off his favorite gun just in case and frowned into the darkness.
It was like he was standing under a spotlight with no light source. There was ambient lighting in all directions, but the world faded into darkness only a few dozen feet away. He took some experimental steps to determine that, yeah, the field of visibility traveled with him.
Well. Time to get moving. Jason walked. There was nothing for the first - hour, he was gonna call it an hour. He got antsy and started jogging. The green stretched on, placid and infinite in a way that was really starting to piss him off. “Hey!” Jason barked into the void. “Anyone there?”
There was an answering electronic whirr. He stopped in his tracks. Jason looked in every direction, including up, and only saw the fucking thing when it was basically on top of him.
The vehicle was probably most equivalent to a spaceship, he decided, as what was probably a 3-man craft at most parked. The top clicked. It opened from the top and someone bounded out. “Hey!” came an annoyed male voice. “What’s the deal, bud?” The stranger landed in front of Jason with crossed arms and a pissy expression. His white hair floated above his head as if he was the little fucking mermaid in the ocean.
Jason scowled, the back of his mind cataloging the other guy’s outfit as pristine and undamaged and his musculature as athletic. “What’s it to you?” he asked, defensive. He didn’t know if it was safe to give information to this guy. “I might be a little lost,” Jason conceded.
“A little lost,” the guy repeated, and then- okay, he flew in a weird little flippy circle, scowling all the while as Jason gaped. “A little lost.” He scoffed. Then he let out a sigh that made his whole body look smaller. He uncrossed his arms and ran a hand through his hair. “This is a weird question,” he said, making it sound more defensive than apologetic. “Did you uh.” He scowled, like the words were distasteful. “Look,” he tried again. “Are you delulu, or did you get caught up as the sacrificial bride? I told Frank to knock that shit off.”
Sacrificial bride. Jason felt his brain go offline for a moment. Say what now.
“Helloooo,” the… was this rando a god of death? He was impatient. He flew way up into Jason’s personal space and snapped his fingers. “Someone just smashed metal trash bins together at my grave to get my attention, basically. No, it’s more like one of those spam pop ups that says there’s hot girls in your area?” He made a gesture at Jason. “Only it’s loud. It’s ringing in my ears, and I had to come track you down. Do you think this is funny?”
“...Sacrificial bride?” Jason finally managed to croak out.
Weirdly, this made the other guy relax immediately. “Just found out, huh,” he said, sounding much more sympathetic. “Yeah, okay, we need to sort out a spiritual divorce immediately. And then you can go home and there will be no more hot girls in my area and I can get back to my ess- my work.”
Jason took a few moments of grief and confusion to accept his apparent status. “We’re married?” he said weakly.
The white haired man looked a little sheepish. “Marriage is probably not quite accurate,” he said, and Jason felt a little bit of relief before the guy continued, “It’s more like you’re my concubine?” He sounded mortified by this. “I didn’t want this!”
“No, no,” Jason said, meaning both that he believed it and that he needed this conversation to change directions immediately. “I- who are you?” He gestured at his– what the fuck was the other side of a concubine relationship? King was the associated word that came up, but that…
“I’m nobody, really,” said the white haired man weakly. “But I may technically be King of ghosts or whatever. The Infinite Realms.” He scratched at his face. “So… yeah.”
They stood in utterly mortified silence for a long moment before he seemed to remember something. “You can call me Danny,” he offered.
“...Call me Jason,” he said.
“Thanks, Jason,” Danny said genially. “So, uh, this is a mess, right?” He started floating away backwards. “I’m going to hunt down my mentor and advisor and get some uh- advice, I guess. Do you wanna come with? Or should I come back and check in once I’ve heard from him?”
Jason weighed up his situation, the conventional wisdom about getting in vehicles with strange men, and wondered how useless his gun was going to be in this situation. Danny had never reacted to it being pointed at him, so his guess was ‘utterly unhelpful’. He put it away. “I’d like a ride, thanks,” he said dryly.
They made some stilted conversation on the ride. Danny was clearly trying to hold back and give him no identifying information. That was fascinating, because it implied that there was something Jason could do from the human world to track Danny down. It was also reassuring because there was no reason to withhold information if he’d planned to keep Jason prisoner, so, ya know, that was a good sign.
Anyway, Jason got a lot of information from Danny.
Danny was a terrible liar and he misspoke like, all the time. Jason was pretty sure he was in the ghost equivalent of school, like college or something. He talked like someone in Jason’s age group would, so he’d probably died very recently. Maybe he had been a college student when he’d died and he just hadn’t given up on that degree yet, honestly. Jason managed to drag the conversation around to education. He got nowhere with asking about literature but he hit the jackpot with science. Danny was still babbling about a telescope when he landed the …ship outside of a wonky clocktower.
Jason took off his safety belt and froze in his tracks when Danny absently stopped him with a cool hand. Jason looked down at that hand.
“You had better stay here,” Danny said. He shook his head slightly. “Clocky doesn’t like everyone.”
He melted into the chair as if he had never wanted to get up. “Alright,” Jason said.
Danny was out of the spaceship by the time that Jason realized something was very wrong with that interaction.
He hadn’t decided to sit down. He hadn’t wanted to sit back down. Did- did he actually think it was reasonable to stay behind, or would he have argued and gone in normally?
‘...I think Danny did something.’ Suspicion swirled in his gut. Jason tried to take the safety belt off and stand up. He couldn’t. It was like his muscles wouldn’t respond to it.
Well, that was pretty fuckin’ evil. His pulse picked up in his throat. It… It was some kind of compulsion? He had to do what Danny told him to do? That was really fucked up. He was starting to feel really unsafe now. He wished he’d hung back with Bruce. He wanted someone to bring him home. And weirdly, he felt betrayed. He hardly trusted Danny, didn’t know the fucker well enough to, but he hadn’t gotten that impression off the guy–
‘It wasn’t him,’ Jason realized. ‘It was the binding ritual. Danny said it wasn’t like a marriage, it’s not equal. That’s why I did what Danny wanted me to do.’
Well. Well then. If Danny didn’t know that Jason had to follow his orders, Jason was most fucking certainly not going to spell it out for him. It was a grim calculation to make, but it seemed the safest. As it was, Danny seemed to want to get rid of him as fast as possible.
So that was it. He’d play along and get Danny to spit him back out into Gotham, a young hot divorcé free on the streets.
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probablyintensemuses · 3 months
Note
how wwould armando react if he is in love with the reader, but she shows no sign of feeling the same way, (he's so devoted when it comes to the reader) And he'd like to know if she feels the same way, I wish it would end in a passionate way (you know what I mean) 🔥
Te amo 🌸💗
Wait For Your Love-
Armando Aretas
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summary: Armando doesn’t wish you a happy birthday so you’re day is basically ruined, up until it isn’t.
themes: angst, fluff, smut.
warnings: smut 18+
authors note: I know this isn’t exactly like the request, but genuinely I tried. I hope y’all like it 🥹. Not edited btw, I wrote this on my lunch break.
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Happy birthday to you,’ kelly sang, walking a candlelight cupcake over to your desk, Dorn, Mike, and Marcus following behind her. “Happy birthday to you.”
“Happy birthday, our sweet girl, happy birthday to you.” Kelly gives you a hug from behind and you lean into her.
“Thanks guys,’ you smile big, blowing out the candle on your cupcake.
“What your young ass wish for?” Mike asks, slinging a birthday girl sash over your shoulders.
Marcus slaps his chest. “You know she can’t tell you, that’ll ruin it.”
Mike smacks his lips. “Man, shut your superstitious ass up. Seriously, what you wish for.”
You laugh. “I wished for the second day at my cafe to run smoothly for my employees.’ Everyone shakes their heads, happily, saying your wish was a great one.
“Speaking of,” you dig into your bag, pulling out pink envelopes with hearts on their seals. “If you guys can make time I’d love to have you over there for small party. It’s nothing big, just a new cake recipe I was working on, some drinks, and food if you guys want to bring any.”
They all accept your invite, taking their cards with them and back to their desks.
You sit back down with a smile and continue to unencrypte the harddrive they’d found at a crime scene. Mike had told you it was very important they get it open with everything on it.
So that was the goal today before your party, so you could get as drunk as you wanted to and cry as much as you wanted too.
Hopefully not the latter, though.
The compound door swings open with a shriek before slamming shut, echoing through the whole place.
You turn and your heart stops in your chest as Armando Aretas makes his way through.
It was no secret, to the team anyway, that you had a mild crush on Armando. Despite knowing the things of his past, some desperate part of your self truly liked him. And corny enough, you saw the goodness and potential within him.
It’s why you went with Mike to the D.A’s office and fought for him to serve out his tenured in AMMO instead of prison. You knew he wasn’t all bad, he could be reformed, you’d seen it multiple times.
Like when he took all those stab wounds for Callie, the daughter of the woman actively hunting him. Or how he tried constantly, despite his past and his own convictions, to have a relationship with Mike. Even how kind he was to you at times, especially when you know it’s hard for him, training his mind to know that kindness isn’t a weakness after years of being a product to the cartel.
So you couldn’t help but smile when you see him walk down the stairs and take a seat at his desk across from yours.
“Armando,’ Mike says. “You’re late, we’re about to start debriefing in ten.”
Armando shrugs, slinging off his leather jacket and exposing his bulging, biceps and veiny forearms.
You check the glare in your computer, checking for drool, before eyeing his torso, the skin tight black shirt doing nothing for your unquenched thirst.
“Had to pick something up.” He says, eyeing you.
You turn, looking over your shoulder. Was he actually staring at you?
Everyone else must have noticed too, because before you know it, you have eight pairs of hungry eyes watching you both.
“Anything you want to say to her?” Kelly practically nudges Armando with her voice.
Armando eyes you up in down, taking in your typical appearance of a cardigan and jeans, your curls pulled high in a puff on your head.
His eyes pull away from you as he stands and walks over to the room where the team debriefs. “Nah,” he says.
You fell your heart crash to your feet.
Did he just?
Now, you could understand if he forgot it was your birthday, but you have a cupcake with a candle on it sitting on your desk not to mention the fucking sash that says “birthday girl,” no way he thought you were just wearing it for convenience.
You thought, just for once, Armando would show you even a slither of the same kind of affections you held for him…especially on your birthday.
But you were wrong.
Your heart chips a little at that realization, you feel pathetic like Molly Ringwald in Sixteen Candles as you ball up the invitation you had stored away for Armando, it yellow and bright unlike the others.
You were pathetic to think the man you liked would even consider you an option, let alone come to some dumb birthday party of yours. He was too busy for that, and you were too desperate.
Another year older, yet never wiser. It was clear in your delusions of Armando as you wait for his love.
###
You’re careful to not drop your cake as you push it through the swinging doors of your new cafe.
You decided to get this cafe as a side shop because you always loved pastries, and making cakes and sweet treats got you through the stress of school and the police force.
So now that you’re older, why not have a cafe for fun and passive income? Was it more stress, yes, but it was totally worth it.
“Wow, that looks amazing!” Dorn’s eyes light up as your bring the cake over to the booths and tables your friends occupy.
“You think so?” You smile.
“Oh hell yeah,’ Marcus likes his lips, clapping his hands together. “You know I’m for anything sweet so.”
You chuckle. “Forewarning. It’s a teramassu cake, so you old dogs might be up all night if you eat too much.”
“Damn! It’s like that!” Mike laughs.
You smile and begin cutting into the cake and passing out pieces. “Yeah, it’s like that.”
“And to think we basically raised you.” Marcus says. “I’m going to let you slide though. One because it’s your birthday. And two, because this cake is fire.”
You clap and squeal. “I’m so glad you like it. I didn’t want to mess it up, but it’s pretty difficult.”
“Mhm,’ kelly says, taking a sip of her wine. “So what’s harder, cake baking? Or admitting your crush to Armando?”
Your smile drops in an instant and you send an icy glare Kelly’s way. “Seriously?”
Kelly hiccups. “I’m sorry, but the way your face looked when he didn’t tell you happy birthday, I mean how can you like a guy like that? No offense, Mike.”
Mikes eyebrows rise. “I mean, it was a jerk move. But it’s Armando. Who knows, he might say happy birthday tomorrow.”
You shake your head. “Yeah, but it won’t be worth anything tomorrow when he knew today. I mean, I’m really pathetic to wish he was here when he couldn’t even do the bare minimum for me.” Your eyes well with tears.
“Hey, no.’ Dorn wipes your eyes. “Don’t cry on your birthday about him. Cry tomorrow, and then come see my therapist.”
You sniffle. “What?”
“Sorry, she’s just amazing, I always like to shout her out.”
You sigh. “Thanks, Dorn.”
Even with all this smiling faces around you, you couldn’t shake the anchor pulling at your ankle. You wished Armando would have just told you happy birthday, even pretended to care. That would have meant more to you than what you got.
But here you were, with all your friends who actually cared about you, about to cry over a guy who couldn’t even be bothered.
A tear streaks down your face and you look away. “You guys should go,’ you say. “I’m sorry.”
Mike pats your shoulder. “I’ll try talking to him.”
You grip his wrist. “Don’t. I don’t want him to know about this, he’ll think I’m insane.”
“Don’t sweat it too hard,’ kelly kisses your head. “I know plenty of guys at the department that would fall to their knees right now over you.”
“Thanks,’ you half smile, watching as your friends leave before you break down completely.
Tears streaked into your palm as you cried out. It didn’t hit you until this morning just how deeply you cared for Armando.
You truly liked him, and his blatant rejection had set all your emotions flaring.
Sniffling into your hands, the soft chime of your cafes door catches your attention.
“We’re closed.” You grumble, not bothering to look up.
“Even for me, ¿dulce niña?” Armando says.
Your head shoots up and the air is nearly knocked out of your lungs as you take him in.
He’s dapper in a black button up not all the way buttoned, exposing some of his tone chest and a silver St. Christopher necklace. His pants are the right amount of tightness, highlighting his muscular thighs, and his hair is dark and trimmed, just like his beard.
Armando, as always, is hard to look away from. But still, resist and play it cool, wiping the tears away from your eyes.
“What are you doing here?” You ask, crossing your hands over your small chest.
Armando walks towards you, hands behind his back as he observes your cafe, like some kind of museum tourist. “The cafe came together nice.” He says, stepping a bit too close to you.
For air, you take a step back, Armando notices and smirks. “Stop avoiding the question. What are you doing here?”
“I heard you had a party I wasn’t invited to. That’s not very nice, bebita.” He smirks.
“Yeah, it was invite only.”
“I don’t qualify?”
You scoff. “You didn’t even know it was my birthday.”
“I knew.”
“Oh, you knew, so you just didn’t care.”
“I cared.’ Armando gets close, pulling at the tule fabric of your pink mini dress. He lets out a shaky breath. “This is beautiful on you, by the way.”
You push him away at the chest, he hardly moves. “Stop it.” You whine.
“Stop what?”
“Stop acting like you like me!” You shout. “You don’t! And it’s fucking embarrassing, Armando!”
Armando swallows, and even in the darkness you can see the shame painted into the little creases of his face and the fast lifts of his chest.
Armando’s hands finally fall to his sides and you see now what he has done. In his hands are a large bouquet of flowers and a blue bag.
“No,” You say.
He steps forward. “This is why I was late to work, princesa, because I got this for you.”
“Armando.”
“Open it.” He says.
Reluctantly you take the bag from his hands, sharp rods of electricity swirling up your arm when your fingers meet.
Slowly, you open the bag and look inside. There, a small velvet box awaits you. Hesitant, you pick it up and open it.
You gasp at what you see. A necklace, tiny diamonds all the way around. It shimmers in the moonlight that peaks into the cafe as you hold it up.
“You bought this for me?’ You gasp. “How can you even afford this?”
Armando rolls his eyes. “I use to be a drug dealer, baby.”
You sigh and put the necklace, as pretty as it is, back into the box. “I can’t take this.” You hand it back.
Armando frowns. “Why not?”
You turn, holding yourself. “Because how do I know if you even like me?”
Armando’s eyes hidden and he holds the bag on display. “Baby, I just dropped bands on this necklace for you. I think that shows alot.”
“Yeah, maybe.” You step back, walking away from him.
He catches your arm, gently pulling you back. “Maybe?” He scoffs offended. “You didn’t even invite me tonight, yet I got you a gift, and you say maybe.”
You snatch out of his grip. “I didn’t invite you tonight because you’re an asshole!”
“I’m not!” Armando shouts back.
“Then prove it,’ you square into his space. “Stop making me wait for your love and tell me what you know I want to hear.”
Armando opens his mouth to speak, but the words are lost when he leans in, his mouth crashing onto yours.
Your shocked, your lips are still against his until something burst inside of you, everything you’ve been craving sealed in this one kiss.
This causes you to moan against his lips. Armando swallows it, slipping his hands into your curls and tilting your head to the side, turning the kiss hot and fierce.
You wrap your arms around the nape of his neck, scratching at his faded low cut, deepening your kiss.
Armando’s hands trail down the fluff of your dress until they reach the hem. He flips it upward and finds your underwear, growling as he feels the thin layer of cotton. You shudder at his touch, your pussy throbbing at the thought of him making contact.
“Fuck,’ he moans, slipping two fingers into your thongs, rolling his thick fingers over your clit.
Your head falls back as you let out a low, moan. “Fuck, baby.”
“You like that?’ He strokes his fingers up and down your soaking wet slit. “Tan mojado, maldita sea.” He growls in your ear.
“Yes,” you gasp. “Oh, yes.”
Armando grabs you by your waist flipping you around, the rounds of your ass pressed against the swells of his cock.
You gasp as Armando pushes you against his hard on, you imagine how it will feel once he’s deep inside your soaking, needy cunt.
Armando nibbles at the bottom of your ear. “You feel that baby. You feel what you do to me?”
“Y—yes,” you sputter.
He grinds against you, his face deep in your hair, taking a whiff.
“God I need to be inside you.” Armando whines. “I’ve always needed it.”
“Then do it. Stop holding back.” You moan out.
Maybe that was the wrong thing to say because in a flash Armando’s got your dress up, your thong to the side, and you bent over the counter of your cafe.
God you hoped no one walked past, because if they did, they get an eyeful of your ass and Armando’s bulging cock.
“Fuck,” Armando moans, rubbing the leaking pink tip of his cock against you sleek folds, shuddering as he pulls back, your slick dripping off his tip. “You ready, baby?”
“Yes, oh yes.” You moan, digging your head into the cold marble of the counter.
Armando strokes your entrance one last time before pushing into slowly. You both let out loud, pornagraphic moans finally being full of each other.
The strokes start of slow and deep, each smack creating friction between the top of your dress and your skin. The deeper and harder Armando fucks you, the lower your dress falls until eventually your boobs spill out.
Armando’s pace picks up and he begins to fuck you with speed that causes you to cry out. He reaches in front of you, grabbing your boobs and holding onto them, circling your nipples between his fingers, pounding deeper and harder into you.
“God, mama, you’re incredible.’ Armando growls. “I’ve dreamt of this moment.”
“More!” You moan.
Armando flips you over, lifting you up by your ass and slamming you onto the counter. He waste no time shoving into you and fucking you, your boobs bouncing up and down equivalent to his rhythm.
You reach down, rubbing your clit in circles, you’re desperate to come on Armando’s cock and have him come inside of you.
You can feel the knot in your stomach build and you know you’re close. The sounds of skin slapping and heavy moans echos off the walls of the cafe.
Your pussy leaks, leaving a white ring Armando’s cock as he drills into you, using one lifted leg as leverage.
Your knot builds, expanding, and you know you’re close to the edge.
You pull Armando close. “I want you to finish me, then I need your come inside of me.” You cry out.
Armando doesn’t even question your requests before obliterating you with speed and strokes.
Your knot unfurls and you moan out, shuttering as you
Come on his cock. Armando does the same, pumping all of him inside of you.
Sweaty and breathing hard, he pulls out, lifting you up bridal style.
He carries you to one of the larger booths at the back of the cafe, using his jacket as a blanket for you both.
“Are you on birth control?” He asks.
You shake your head no. “It’s okay. We’re fine. I’ll just get a plan B.”
Armando nods kissing your forehead. “And by the way,’ he pulls you into his strong arms. “Happy birthday.”
You snicker, eyelids heavy. “Thank you.”
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naughtyneganjdm · 2 months
Text
Filthy
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Summary: Joel Miller is your father's best friend and you've had feelings for him for as long as you can remember. What started as playful sexting between the two of you leads to you meeting up with Joel in the bathroom of a mall to live out your deepest fantasies.
Characters: Joel Miller & the reader (Female OC, second person)
AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/57441814
Warnings: 18+, Swearing, Smut, Age Gap, No Plot, Daddy Kink, Unprotected P in V, Oral, No Use of Y/N, Dirty Talk, Choking, Public Play, Rough, dbf! Joel Miller, etc.
Notes: This is just another very dirty story that I wrote that I started a while ago and finally finished. Enjoy!
This was dirty and you knew it. It was easy finding yourself attracted to Joel Miller. It was a whole other ballgame when he was your father’s best friend. What had started off as playful flirting between the two of you had become a round of naughty sexting that led you here. You knew the age gap was wrong. You were a college student, he was much older. He was your father’s best friend, but you just didn’t care.
It was almost a joke at first. Joel mentioned in a text that he had to bring Sarah along with her friends to the mall and he had to find something to do until the girls were ready to leave. It was an innocent text with him telling you what he was doing with his day. He stressed that no fourteen-year-old girl wanted their father tagging along with them and their friends while they were hanging out at the mall. But they still needed a ride, so that meant he couldn’t leave and he had to stick around.
That’s when you suggested it. Have him meet you in the hallway where the bathrooms were. The two of you could finally release that sexual tension that had been building up between you. It took a while for Joel to respond to your text which was nerve wrecking in itself. When you received a text back that simply said ‘okay’ a rush of excitement flooded your veins. You didn’t really think he would agree to it, but here you were. Earlier today he sent you a text with a time. Of course you were there early.
It was a few minutes after the time he had given you. Your heart was hammering in your chest. There were chills running throughout your body in anticipation hoping that Joel actually meant what he said, but you were wondering if he was going to chicken out. There was always tension on Joel’s side. It took him a while to open up to things, so you would understand if he wasn’t going to follow through.
The sound of footsteps drew your attention to the end of the hallway. Standing up straight, your eyes connected with Joel’s when he stopped to stare out at you. He was wearing his work boots, his jeans and a green flannel that had the first two buttons undone. His hair was messy, like usual. Just the sight of him took your breath away. A warmth flooded your core when Joel stepped forward, a smirk tugging at his handsome features.
By the time he reached you, you wanted to say something, but before you could he was hooking his fingers with yours leading you toward the men’s restroom. Stumbling over your feet, you followed close behind when Joel pushed the door open with a powerful shove. Joel was moving quick, his head lowering to check if anyone was in the stalls before coming to the end of the bathroom stalls. You were alone and Joel wasn’t wasting any time. Locking the door behind him, Joel was quick to turn to you. Reaching out, he pulled you flush in against him and it had a nervous exhale falling from your lips.
Dipping down, the warmth of Joel’s breath lingered in over yours. His palms claimed your hips, squeezing firmly at them before sliding them back to cup your bottom in a possessive grasp. It had a tremoring breath falling from your lips. The anticipation of this alone had built you up so much that your body was shaking.
“Oh, come on. You’ve been such a filthy little thing in our texts. Don’t get nervous now,” Joel hushed, his thumb dragging out over your bottom lip in a sensual sweep. Faintly kissing at the pad of his thumb had him smiling. Your eyes closed and you boldly wrapped your lips around it to take it between your lips. Faintly sucking at the flesh had Joel humming out with his breathing growing louder. “Good girl.”
Having him praise you in his deep rumble of a southern accent immediately made you wet. Joel’s left hand raised, his fingers curling around your neck to bring you to him. Demanding a kiss from you, had you tipping up on your toes with your hand pressing in over the center of his chest to brace yourself. This wasn’t the first kiss you shared with Joel, but it was certainly the hottest. The first one was this last New Years when Joel was drunk and you planted one on him in hopes that he would want something more from you. Back then when Joel ran off, you thought that was but a fantasy you would never obtain. Now? Joel was proving you otherwise.
A flick of Joel’s tongue at your lips had you purring out, your mouth parting allowing him access when his tongue brushed against yours in an addictive sweep. The taste of him was foreign but addicting. The soft scratching of his facial hair against your face was enticing you all the more when you put forth more power into kissing him.
An amused rumble fell from Joel when you proved to him just how much you wanted this. Nipping at his bottom lip and giving it a small tug had a groan escaping his throat. When you leaned back, his dark eyes were locked on yours making you feel like the only woman in the world in that moment. Joel Miller wanted you. The man you had been attracted to for so long and that was the most amazing feeling in the world. Stroking your fingers into the thick tresses of his graying hair only had you getting more excited. There was something so sexy about the gray in Joel’s hair and when it was messy it looked that much better.
“Now be a good girl and do for daddy what you promised,” Joel’s fingers sank into your hair pulling you close enough to him so he could steal another kiss from your lips. When your tongue brushed out between the warmth of his lips, he sucked faintly at your tongue having you purring out. Your nails bit at the material of his shirt, bunching it up when Joel pulled back with a wet sound. Keeping your eyes locked on his, your fingers started to pull apart the buttons of his shirt. Once you reached about mid abdomen, you pushed at the material so you could lower your head down to pamper his chest with wet kisses. Hissing out, Joel’s fingers sank further into your hair enjoying the attention you were giving his body. Continuing to open the buttons, you followed the movements with your mouth leaving small nips over his flesh that he visibly enjoyed. With his head tipping back and his eyes closed, Joel was no question enjoying what you were doing. “That’s it.”
Licking at his lips, Joel’s dimples became more prevalent when he lowered his head to watch your fingers sweep over his belt once you got his shirt apart. Your kisses hovered over the soft flesh area under Joel’s navel appreciating all of him. Working open Joel’s belt, you were trying to force yourself from shaking when he braced his arms against the walls of the bathroom stall you were in. The jangling of his belt filled the empty bathroom with you eagerly working open the button and the zipper in Joel’s jeans.
“Thatta girl,” Joel coached you with a growl. Your lips were kissing over the revealed flesh when you tugged at Joel’s jeans getting caught a bit before you were given the surprised of his hard cock bouncing free from the material before you. Wearing nothing underneath was not something you were expecting from Joel, but you were thankful for it when you curled your fingers around the girthy length. “You think you could handle it?”
There was an arrogant bob of his head with the way he said that, it made you smile when you pressed your lips up to the length of his shaft dragging your lips over the sensitive flesh. It had Joel’s hips bouncing forward with anticipation and a hiss falling from his throat.
“I’ll attempt anything for you,” you slurred against his flesh which was followed by a moan. Hearing that alone could have had you combusting with how sexy it sounded. Joel captured your jaw between his thumb and index finger getting you to look up at him. Smiling, he swept his fingers over your face when you started taking your time caressing your fingers over the length of his solid cock.
“That’s what I like to hear,” he rumbled, his southern drawl growing deeper. Bracing himself better against the sides of the stall, Joel’s eyes were on you like a hawk. It was intimidating having him watching you like that, but you had something to prove here. So you were going to pull out your best. Once he was completely solid in your grasp, you tipped forward to lap your tongue at the ridges of the tip of his cock. It had him dropping his head back, his eyes slamming shut with the veins in his neck becoming more prominent. “Good girl.”
Stroking up over his shaft and down again, you dragged your tongue out over the slit at the tip collecting the taste of him. A wet kiss soon followed after which had his hips bouncing up toward you. Outstretching your tongue, you firmly grabbed a hold of his manhood, tapping the tip at your wet tongue. The hum of approval he let out had chills flooding down your spine. This was exactly what you wanted to hear. What you had dreamt of night after night since you first started having feelings for your father’s best friend. The taste of him that lingered on your tongue was addictive when you wrapped your lips around the head of his cock, lapping at his flesh with your tongue.
At first everything was a tease of what was to come. You wanted to draw this out. Listen to his heavy breaths and look up to watch his reactions to everything you were doing. Caressing over his cock was slow. It had his abdomen sinking in deeply with his breaths with you gradually lowering your head further over his shaft. Pulling your lips from his member had his lips parting, with his brow line furrowing but you took that time to caress over the sensitive tip. Joel’s head dropped, his dark eyes fluttering to an open. A smirk tugged at his features, his right eyebrow arching up showing that he expected you to go back to it. So you did.
You took him back into your mouth, taking your time to lower your head bringing his cock toward the back of your throat before pulling back. Dragging your tongue along his flesh had his hips bouncing forward slightly with each movement. Your left hand outstretched to caress in over his naked hip, while your right continued to move in tempo with your head over his cock. Each drag of your tongue over his body was meticulous. You didn’t want to rush this. You didn’t care that you were on your knees in a bathroom stall in the middle of the mall. You could have been anywhere and been okay with it because this was the man of your dreams.
“Alright sweetheart,” Joel southern drawl had your eyes lifting when he dropped his right arm from where it was bracing him. Curling his fingers around your neck, he cradled your head helping your movements over his now throbbing manhood. Grumbling out, Joel sucked at his bottom lip. This was testing your limits with him making each movement quicker and that much further into your throat. You didn’t complain though. No, you were going to do everything he pleased. “That’s it…”
Each thrust of his cock into your throat grew wetter with tears forming at the corner of your eyes. An occasional gag fell from your throat, but each wince coming out of Joel was like a reward for this whole thing. Allowing you to pull back had your wet lips pulling from his erection with a sloppy sound. Dragging your tongue over your bottom lip, you felt your heart skip a beat when he curled his thick fingers around his throbbing length caressing your saliva over his flesh.
“Come on now,” Joel requested, grabbing a hold of your arm to pull you back up to your feet. Your eyelids were heavy, your pupils dilated with want for the man standing before you. Seeing the lust in your eyes had Joel smirking. His rough fingertips pressed in under your chin urging you to tip your head back and you panted. There was an ache at your core. You wanted him so bad that it hurt. Bringing your lips to his, Joel claimed your mouth in a lingering kiss that had you tipping up on your toes. With each caress of his lips over yours, the strength of it grew. It had you purring out, your arm hooking around his shoulders to brace yourself. Then there was a flick of his tongue against your lips. Parting them, you moaned when you felt his tongue brushing against yours. Tugging at his messy hair, you felt his fingers sliding up your back toward the strap of the sundress you had worn for the occasion. You wanted something where Joel could easily take you and have you. Whatever was the quickest and this felt like the right decision. Pulling had the material following Joel’s movement with it falling down under your breast. In that moment, Joel stopped kissing you which had you longing for more. His eyes fell to your breast and a wicked smirk tugged at his features. “Beautiful.”
Tipping down, he let the warmth of his breath linger over your jawline for a minute. Your eyes slammed shut. Your breathing uneven. You felt the coarse hairs of his beard teasing at your flesh before his wet lips started peppering kisses over the side of your face. Down over your neck and then to your collarbone. Curling your fingers over his shoulder had you feeling the tight muscles beneath and it made you lick your lips. Joel was strong and broad shouldered. Licking your lips again, you panted when Joel started kissing over the fleshy part under your breast. Each flick of his tongue drew chills down your spine with the closer that he got to your nipple. When he reached it he wet his lips before taking the taut bud into his mouth. Sucking at first had you arching toward him. His tongue dragged across it with a groan as he started suckling at your flesh. Digging your fingers further into his hair, you were surprised with how much Joel was pampering your body. He was locked in, his dark eyes lifting to stare up at you to see if you were enjoying what he was doing.
Tugging at the other part of your dress had you almost falling forward when Joel got the material of your dress around your mid abdomen to reveal your other breast to him. Not wasting any time his mouth covered your other breast, leaving small nips this time over your flesh. Standing up straighter, Joel pulled you flush against him. His rough hand settled at the small of your back while the other lowered between the two of you.
His eyes were locked on yours when he reached between your thighs. Parting your lips, you felt your breath getting caught in your throat when he palmed over your mound through the panties that you were wearing. You were wet already and by the expression over his face you could tell that he was enjoying your reaction to him touching you.
“You’re such a naughty little thing,” Joel slurred, his caress rough to the point it had you gasping and clinging to him. Nuzzling his head in against the side of your neck, Joel nipped and sucked at your flesh. It was going to leave a mark, but you enjoyed the way it felt. “Do you know how angry your daddy would be if he knew what was happening right now?”
“And here I thought you would be worried about that,” you tugged on his hair, getting Joel to pull his head back. Snickering, Joel brought his hands up pushing at the skirt on your dress. Sliding his palms down, he caressed over your ass before moving up again to tug at the waistband of your panties. Getting them down your legs, you eagerly kicked out of the material. Grunting out, Joel kept his eyes locked on yours when he reached for the material and managed to get them shoved into one of his back pockets. “Everyone thinks you’re so pure…so innocent…”
“Everyone thinks the same about you,” he rumbled, forcing you further back against the door of the stall you were in. His strength surprised you before his hands circled around to squeeze at your ass testing the flesh in his palms. “Funny how people are blind to the truth.”
“You drive me crazy,” you informed him, your breathing loud when his hand palmed up between the valley of your breasts. Firmly his fingers wrapped around your throat and it had you hissing out. Your head tipping back before you smiled at the sensation and the way he was looking at you.
“In the best of ways,” he suggested, his other hand reaching down to now palm in over your center. With his middle and index finger, he teased lines over the length of your sex. Teasing you with circling motions over your clitoris before sliding back to your entrance. Repeating the motion, Joel sucked at his bottom lip and he shrugged. “I always knew there was something naughty inside of you.”
“Yeah,” you bit down on your bottom lip, rocking your hips with his touch. “Hopefully that thing is you soon.”
“Oh,” Joel snickered, his nose nuzzling in against your jaw as his fingertips circled your entrance again. A loud gasp escaped your throat when he thrust his fingers into you. His grasp on your throat kept you up, but your hand braced in over the center of his chest to keep yourself steady. “That was a good answer.”
“I want nothing more,” you cooed out trying to keep your eyes focused on his when he started thrusting his fingers inside of your pussy. Wet sounds echoed in the bathroom. Your legs trembling with how rough he already was being, but you just as eagerly rocked your hips with the movement. Joel’s finger had found your g-spot and he was working it with focused strokes. “Fuck Joel.”
“You’re not the innocent thing that you make people believe you are,” Joel insisted lowering down to nip at your bottom lip, tugging it slightly. “No, you’re a dirty girl.”
“As long as you make me yours, I’ll be whatever you want me to be,” you purred which had him groaning against your flesh. He liked that answer. A lot.
Starting to kiss down over your body, Joel released your throat which had you exhaling loudly. With his fingers leaving your body, you wanted to complain, but he hushed you and shook his head once. Watching his movements, you were completely enchanted with him and how he did things. Once he lowered down to his knees you let out an excited breath. It had him snickering when he ran his fingers up over the back of your legs toward your thighs. When he squeezed at the flesh, it had you bracing your hands against the sides of the stall.
“Hold on tight,” he instructed before forcefully urging one of your legs up over his shoulders. It didn’t take long before his fingers were back inside of you, matching that same tempo that he had started originally. It felt so good now with the warmth of his breath lingering over your most intimate parts. Joel growled before starting to press hot, wet kisses over your inner thigh. Each kiss that got closer to your sex felt better with the anticipation growing. When the warmth of his mouth finally covered your clitoris it had you purring out, your head tipping back with you closing your eyes.
It started off with a few kisses before his tongue pressed out between his lips dragging flat out against your clit. It had your hips bouncing forward which was followed by him suckling at the sensitive bundle of nerves. Purring out, you forced your eyes to open. You wanted to watch this. No, you needed to watch this. It was a sight you didn’t want to leave you.
Joel’s eyes were closed. His head moving from side to side while he pleasured you. If anything he was sensual in the way that he ate you out. Your moans turned to cries with his eyes fluttering to an open. Slurping at your flesh had you whimpering. His fingers were hitting just the right spot inside of you to have a fire growing at the pit of your belly. Your thighs were tremoring and by the growl he made against your flesh you knew that he was aware that your orgasm was approaching. Keeping up the pace, Joel varied between using his mouth and tongue to tease your flesh sucking and licking at the areas you reacted to the most.
“Joel,” you tried to silence yourself knowing that you wanted to cry out louder than you did. Your right hand dropped, your fingers sinking into his hair when he brought you to a mind shattering orgasm. It had him grasping tightly to you to keep you upright. His nose buried against your flesh while he continued to pleasure you through it. When his mouth pulled from your body, you whined watching him closely. Groaning out, he licked at his lips and swiftly stood from the ground. His fingers pulled from your body, his left hand reaching for your throat to press you back further against the door.
“Maybe I was wrong,” Joel stammered, his lips hovering over yours and teasing you with the idea of kissing you. “You may have some experience, but by your reaction just there? You’ve never been pleasured by a real man. Maybe a boy. But a boy can’t do a man’s job.”
God, just hearing that had you moaning out, your hips arching in closer to him feeling the solid length of his cock rubbing up against your abdomen. Fuck, you wanted him more than ever now.
Forcefully, Joel moved you so you were face first against the wall side of the stall. Gasping, you felt Joel’s boot covered foot kicking at yours to get your legs to spread further apart. Hooking his fingers to your throat again, Joel pulled your head back with his lips kissing at your jawline unhurriedly.
“I’m going to make you mine, you understand that?” his words vibrated against your flesh and you purred. Nodding your head, you felt him nipping at your flesh while his other hand grabbed a hold of your hips pulling your ass back toward him. Bracing your hands against the cool wall, you whined feeling him tracing the tip of his cock through your wet folds. With a tug at your throat, it had you whimpering out. Joel nipped at your earlobe, tugging on the flesh while you were a trembling mess before him. “I asked if you understand that?”
“I do,” you licked your lips, anticipation flooding your body. When you felt the swollen head tease over your entrance you tried to bounce your hips back toward him. You wanted him inside of you so bad. “I’ll happily be yours.”
“Good girl,” he tsked in your ear before forcefully bouncing his hips upward. It had his girthy length filling you, stretching you in the most addictive way. You cried out, your eyes slamming shut with the smack of his hips against your ass. Joel’s moan was faint, but he pushed up further having you on your tip toes with the way he filled you. “That is nice and tight.”
“Please,” you reached back, your hand squeezing at his hip with him laughing. “Please fuck me.”
“So needy,” Joel scoffed, his hips starting to roll. Each thrust was hard having you bouncing forward toward the wall, whimpering out with each movement. You thanked God you managed to somehow make this happen. Nothing felt better than Joel Miller inside of you, making you his. “You’re such a filthy little thing.”
“Yes daddy,” you whined starting to bounce your hips back into his thrusts. Joel’s free hand circled around your front hovering his fingers over your clitoris. Each thrust he made forward had you grinding up against his fingers for extra friction. You were cooing out, your body wanting him to fill you time and time again. “This pussy was made for you.”
“Yes it was,” Joel agreed with a growl and you were thankful he was holding onto your neck like he was. Otherwise you wondered if you would have fallen over. Suddenly, Joel’s movements stopped and his hand that was between your thighs lifted. Holding his fingers out before your lips, he hissed and firmly kissed at your neck. “Taste yourself.”
It ached with him stagnant inside of you. You wanted him to move again. You wanted the swollen tip of his cock to rub against your g-spot like it had been doing building up a sense of euphoria that was flooding your veins.
“Do it,” he demanded and you eagerly took his fingers into your mouth. The taste of you lingered over them when he rewarded you with his thrusts again. Joel kept his fingers in your mouth, his body pressing up further against yours. “Good girl. You’re being such a good, filthy little girl for daddy.”
Noticing your cries growing louder, Joel’s thrusts seemed more determined. If you could be climbing up the wall right now, you would be. Your moans were muffled by his fingers shoved down your throat, but there was no denying your orgasm was approaching quickly. And when it did? Thank God he was there to hold you up. It seemed to fuel him with your walls flexing and relaxing over his length. With him humming out against your flesh.
“Holy shit,” you panted when he pulled back, his cock pulling from your body with a wet sound. You stayed still for a moment, before looking over your shoulder to see that he was taking a breath for himself. His shirt was still parted revealing his damp chest to your sight, his cock bobbing with the movement while his chocolate eyes stared out into yours.
“Told you it was a man’s job,” Joel winked with you shakily turning to face him. Urging him back, you had him stumbling over his pants to drop down on top of the toilet. Crawling in over him, you wasted no time leading him back into your tight hole. It had him groaning out, his hands pressing up over your back to grab a hold of you. Wrapping your arm around his shoulders, you took this moment to take control into your own hands. Bouncing your hips over him again and again, stopping occasionally to let him fill you completely. Rotating your hips to enjoy the ache that came with it. Joel’s eyes were watching your movements over his cock, his lips parted and his eyebrows furrowed. “Damn.”
This felt better than you ever could have imagined. Joel was the perfect specimen of a man beneath you. His body hard and sturdy, making him the best ride of your life you’d experienced so far. Joel’s fingers grabbed a tight hold of your ass, squeezing at the flesh while you continued your movements over him. You were already over stimulated with what he had led you up to, but you longed for more. Your heart was hammering in your chest making you feel faint, but you chased that feeling. Embraced it like a long, lost friend.
“Okay,” Joel growled out, hooking his arm firmly around your hips managing to lift you when he stood from the toilet. Bracing you against the door again, he had one of your legs curling around his waist. His fingertips digging into your flesh when he started bucking against you hard. His jaw was flexing, his eyelids growing heavy. Your nails bit at the exposed flesh of his shoulders which had him hissing out, his lips claiming yours in a passionate sweep.
It was in that moment the sound of a door being pushed open was heard. Fuck. The bathroom was empty before. Joel’s movements stopped, his hand swiftly moving up to cover your lips to stop you from making noise. Nodding your head, you bit back a sound when Joel used his strength to lift you having both your legs wrap around his waist. Covering your lips with his again, Joel’s thrusts were slow. Still wanting to keep that sensation growing inside the both of you.
Water was running at the sink. You both knew that you couldn’t make a noise or draw attention. If someone reported you, you knew the trouble that you could get in. With the way he slowly moved inside of you, it only had the ache growing. You wanted him to take you rough and hard. Joel knew you were having a hard time because his kisses grew stronger. This person needed to leave. You’d never been more desperate in your life.
When the water turned off and you heard the door opening before closing again, you tore your lips from his and panted, “I need you to do your worst.”
“Yes ma’am,” Joel’s hips were smacking up against yours, with your hands lifting up and grasping to the top of the door of the stall. Your breasts were bouncing with the strength of his thrusts. The tip of his cock hitting that certain spot inside of you that had you actually crying out now. Joel’s winces were loud, his fingers digging into your flesh chasing that same bliss that you had experienced twice already. “I need to come.”
“Do whatever you need, just don’t stop,” you begged, dropping down one of your hands to hook it into Joel’s messy hair. It had him burying his head against your collarbone. His loud breathing warm against your flesh. He was close. You felt him throbbing inside of you, his thrusts becoming more uneven. You did your best to rock your hips over his with his groin rubbing up against yours causing extra friction over your clitoris. With a groan, Joel’s eyes closed tightly with his forehead pressing to yours. His hips slowed down, the first spurt of his cum flooding your tight canal while you moaned out his name in his ear. Bucking up, Joel growled out, his orgasm strong as he pumped you full of his hot cum. Sliding down onto one foot, you used the strength you had to roll your hips against his. Drawing his cock in and out of you easily with the extra added slick of his cum coating your walls. You drew his lips to yours, kissing him repeatedly. Finding yourself so incredibly turned on that his seed was now filling you. Biting at his bottom lip, your eyes slammed shut when you tremored over him and heard him groaning out. You both had hit that moment. That peak you were looking for. “Jesus Joel.”
With a wince, Joel lowered you back down to your feet. His breathing loud when you grabbed firmly to his sides.
“Wait,” you begged, clinging him tightly to you. With an amused expression, Joel could see that your stare was locked on you lifting your hips watching his cock pulling from you. Whining out when it finally pulled, you heard the sound of his cum hitting the floor and you licked your lips.
“You’re filthy,” Joel snickered, dragging his thumb across your bottom lip before stumbling back. His softening cock twitched while you rest against the door of the stall to catch your breath. Your legs felt like Jell-O while he pulled his pants back up over his hips. Adjusting his cock, Joel grunted and started to zip his pants back up together. When he worked on the buckle, he smiled big and nodded his head. “That was great.”
“No shit,” you replied back having him laugh deeply, nodding his head when you started to fix your dress. Once you had it pushed back down your hips, you could tell you were still breathless. “Are you going to give me my panties back?”
“Absolutely not,” Joel shook his head, taking his time to button his shirt back up slowly leaving the top few undone. “I think I earned them.”
“What do you expect me to do?” you breathed out feeling your throat tighten up when he moved forward. Kneeling, Joel collected some of his cum that had been dripping down your thighs. Lifting slowly, he made sure to close the distance between you and held his fingers out for you. Taking his fingers into your mouth, you hummed when you cleaned his release off of them. It had him moaning out, his smile growing.
“I expect you to leave here just as you are,” he declared, tipping down to steal another hungry kiss from your lips. It had you purring out, clinging to him when he pulled away from you firmly. Just in that moment his cell phone buzzed. Reaching for it, Joel swallowed hard and shrugged. “Finished just in time. The girls are ready to leave.”
“And you’re gonna leave, just like that?” you frowned when Joel unhooked the lock and motioned you to step aside. “No next time?”
“When did I say there wouldn’t be a next time?” Joel retorted, taking small steps backward toward the door. Tossing his hands up in the air, he cleared his throat and gave a wink. “How about tonight? Around eleven. Sarah should be sleeping by then. You can sneak in, I’ll take you to my room for a proper fucking. Just this time you’ll have to be quiet.”
“I think I can handle that,” you were happy to hear that he wanted you again and that he wanted you again so soon.
“Yes. Yes you can,” Joel bit down on his bottom lip before giving you a small nod. “This was a good idea. I’m glad we did it.”  
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