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osaemu · 2 months

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GOJO SATORU: GUILTY CONSCIENCE

✩ ‧ ˚. serial killer!au: ever since that first night, you can't get him off your mind—and even though you handed him over to law enforcement, it looks like he still wants you too. PART 1 | NSFW

contents: fem!reader. porn with plot, dubcon, semi-public sex (in a bathroom), oral (m. receiving), fingering (f. receiving), pet names (detective, princess, smart girl, pretty girl, etc.), gojo cums in your mouth. non-sexual threatening. non-sexual usage of knives/guns. more plot than porn. this is not good for you btw !!! 4K words.

author's note: pls appreciate your smut writers bc this shit is hard !!!! the sk!series might be over after this one bc i'm not feeling it anymore, but nothing's set in stone yet. posting this for the ppl who wanted a part two, but personally i would've just left it as a standalone.. oh well, i didn't want 4K words to go to waste, so enjoy 🤍

“satoru gojo, what are we going to do with you?” your subordinate asks, resting his hands on the table dividing the dim interrogation room in two. you and your coworker sit on one side, facing the serial killer on the other side—who also happens to be the man you fucked in an alley two weeks ago.

ever since that first encounter, you haven’t been able to get his face out of your mind. at work, his ice blue eyes haunted your every move. at home, he was all you could picture as your mind strayed back to your time beneath him. and now, as you and your boss interrogate him, all you can think about is how good satoru’s hands felt roaming over your skin when you cornered him—or, more accurately, when he cornered you.

“i dunno,” satoru replies, leaning back in his chair and resting his hands behind his head. he grins shamelessly, looking you up and down with interest. “so, pretty girl, how’ve you been since we last met?”

you slip your hands into your pockets to stop yourself from doing something you’ll regret and ignore the curious look your coworker gives you. “this meeting isn’t about me. this is about the people you killed and the punishment you’re about to get,” you answer through gritted teeth.

satoru laughs, eyes locking with yours and seeing right through you. “that’s funny. so, who’s this shrimpy guy next to you? your boyfriend?” he jeers, grinning unnervingly at your coworker. you shoot your subordinate an apologetic look, which he responds to with a nod.

“i’m her boss, actually,” he clarifies, running a hand through his blonde hair and narrowing his eyes. “kento nanami. and i’ve been referred to as a lot of things, but shrimpy is a first.” satoru makes a face and laughs, as if he’s amused by the whole scene.

“really? i’m surprised,” satoru replies easily. “i mean, whatever. i’ve seen better looking officers… like the one next to you.” he looks back at you, a careless smile still dancing on his lips. kento frowns and looks back and forth from you to satoru, and you force yourself to maintain a poker face in order to detract any suspicion.

“do you two know each other?” kento asks, crossing his arms. satoru starts laughing again, to which you roll your eyes. even if satoru were to tell kento what you hadn’t—that you two had fucked when you were supposed to be arresting him—you doubted that kento would believe him. after all, what’s the word of an obnoxious criminal compared to yours?

you shake your head and ignore satoru. “i’m the one who’s been leading the investigation on him for the past couple months,” you answer. kento meets your eyes and cocks an eyebrow, so you continue, “we met two weeks ago. i cornered him, but he escaped—”

“she let me,” satoru interjects, clearly enjoying the death glare you shoot at him a second later.

“you held a gun to my forehead,” you remind him pointedly, tapping the spot on your head where you vividly remember the cold metal resting against.

“yeah, but i kissed it aft—”

“we’re getting off-topic,” kento interrupts, shooting you a warning glance. “detective, i’ll handle the interrogation from here.”

you hesitate, not liking how smug satoru’s expression is—but, seeing as you don’t have a choice, you dip your head in assent and exit the room.

now that satoru’s been caught and is now in the grasp of the law, you don’t really have anything to do for the rest of the day. he was your case, and now, it looks like it’s closed, especially if your boss is the one interrogating him.

kento nanami has a reputation among law enforcement—he’s known as the stoic, serious man with a perfect record. there hasn’t been a single criminal he’s interrogated that hasn’t cracked, although the knot in your stomach tells you that this might be the first.

a sharp knock sounds on your office door, summoning you back from your train of thought. “it’s open,” you call, holding a piping hot coffee with both hands. kento opens the door and steps inside, eyebrows unusually tensed. his hands are balled into fists, too, in stark contrast to his characteristically calm demeanor.

“something wrong?” you ask tentatively, studying your boss’s troubled eyes.

kento takes a seat in the leather chair in the corner of your office and rests his elbow on the armrest, rubbing his temples. “detective, be honest with me. what happened the night you were supposed to arrest satoru gojo?”

for the first time since satoru pinned you to the wall of a darkened alley, your heart drops. kento’s knowing eyes watch your every move, from the subtle twitch in your eye to the way your fingers tense around the cup of coffee. “what do you mean?” you ask carefully, surprised at how steady your own voice is.

“detective, don’t play games with me,” kento asserts calmly, hand casually drifting towards the side of his waist. you know him well enough to know what he’s reaching for—the same instrument that another man pressed against your forehead just two weeks ago.

despite your mind being clouded with fear and uncertainty, you manage to rationalize your way through the situation. what proof could your boss possibly have besides the word of a criminal?

it’s your word against his—and you both know whose word kento’ll believe.

“that night, he threatened to kill me,” you start, repeating the story you told the authorities when they came ten minutes too late to catch satoru. “and he must’ve drugged me or knocked me unconscious because next thing i knew, he was gone.” your confidence grows with every word, and you start nodding as if you believe your own lies.

kento’s eyes narrow, and you force yourself to hold your poker face as he scrutinizes you and your words. three long, painful seconds of silence pass before his hand moves away from the holster strapped to his waist, and you internally sigh in relief. he stands without a word and makes to exit the room, but before he does, you risk it all. “why do you ask, sir?”

your boss pauses and turns back to you, eyebrows lifting in mild interest. he doesn’t answer immediately, and you tentatively ask, “...what did he tell you?”

kento exhales a soft huff of air, a look of dread in his brown eyes. “detective, for your own peace of mind, i assure you that you don’t want to know.”

well, fuck.

“i trust your judgement, then,” you reply, feeling your poker face start to slip away. you lift your now-cold cup of coffee to your lips and take a sip, attempting to hide the grimace that threatens to make an appearance. “have a good night, boss.”

“you too, detective. stay safe.”

“i’ll do my best.”

kento nods and heads out, and through your open window you watch him tell another one of your coworkers about how he’s planning on heading out early to make bread for his family, a gentle smile on his lips. eventually, he waves bye and exits the building.

you finish off your coffee and stand up, fishing out your key card from your pocket. you figure that you should head to the bathroom before you go home, just in case. a couple of your coworkers congratulate you when you come out of your office, praising you on the capture of your suspect. you take their compliments with a smile, ultimately wishing them a good night and escaping to the bathroom.

the door clicks shut behind you, and the comfortable quiet eases you at once. but before you can even appreciate the silence of the confined room, a sultry, familiar voice interrupts your thoughts. “aw, you weren’t gonna say bye before you left?”

you turn and your mouth drops open—standing before you, in the flesh, is the criminal you swore you last saw handcuffed to a chair.

“what the fu—”

satoru reaches out and grabs your wrist before you can scurry away or grab your phone. he pulls you into his chest, and you can feel his heartbeat against your back—at least, that’s what you notice before he clamps his hand over your mouth to stifle your yells.

“shut it,” satoru hisses, breath hot against the side of your face. he turns you towards the mirror of the bathroom so you can see how he’s holding you—one hand over your mouth, and one wrapped around your waist. “don’t try anything clever, sweetheart. i wouldn’t wanna have to hurt that pretty face of yours.”

you turn your head and glare at him furiously, cussing like a sailor against his hand. you eventually try to bite it, but your meager attack is essentially useless against his iron grip. satoru raises his eyebrows sternly and hushes you again, ice-blue eyes boring into your own.

“i’ll answer your questions, honey, but be careful,” he pauses and nods at his pocket, where the handle of what appears to be a knife—how the fuck did he get his hands on a knife?—pokes out of the cloth. “okay, i’m gonna take my hand off your mouth now,” he murmurs, purposefully lowering his voice.

true to his word, satoru removes his hand from your mouth. you take a long breath and hesitate—again, there’s not much you can do in this situation but play along. if he’s telling the truth, you can ask questions and he can answer them, so you try your hand at getting some information and biding time. someone would have to walk in the bathroom eventually, right?

“by the way,” satoru starts, a grin curving the corners of his lips upward. “nobody’s gonna come save you, princess. the door’s locked from the inside.” he also removes his hand from your waist, letting you take a step back.

“how?” you ask suspiciously, unsure if he’s telling the truth or not.

satoru laughs—his hair falls into his eyes, and immediately shakes it away with a huff of breath. “i’m good with my hands. but you already know that, don’t ya?”

you back away towards the other side of the bathroom, where sinks line the quartz countertop. “why aren’t you still in the interrogation room?”

“you think you’re the only girl i can convince to let me go?” satoru tuts, clicking his tongue disapprovingly. he reaches into his pocket—not the one with the knife—and extracts a badge of some sort. satoru flicks it at you, and you catch it in midair. to your surprise, it’s the badge of one of your superiors who was supposed to be keeping an eye on satoru. the coy smile on satoru’s face confirms what you’re thinking, and his nod seals it the next second.

“okay,” you say carefully, drawing out the word for a couple seconds. “how long have you been waiting here?”

“long enough,” satoru answers vaguely, not bothering to elaborate.

“thanks a lot,” you deadpan.

“nice to see that you’re still feisty—”

“and what the hell did you tell my boss?” you interrupt, suddenly remembering the dread-filled way kento had looked at you. the way your voice rises is unexpected enough to force satoru to involuntarily take a step back. it’s not much, but the step you take forward a second later to assert your position brings you a small feeling of satisfaction. after all, he’s only human—and all humans get surprised by loud noises.

satoru holds up his hands in mock surrender and eyes you skeptically. “you’re really worried about your boss’s approval, aren’t you?” he asks dryly, white hair falling into his eyes again. “heh, desperate much?”

you roll your eyes and curl your hands into fists—unfortunately, your action only seems to amuse satoru, but you ignore the little “aw” he coos and continue glaring at him. “answer the fucking question, satoru.”

“language,” he snorts. a second later, satoru cocks his head and thinks for a moment, and when his eyes land on you again he asks, “so, you’re still callin’ me satoru? cute.”

your face involuntarily heats up, and even though you’re sure satoru can tell, you pretend not to notice—again. “answer the question or i’ll scream.”

“you wouldn’t dare.”

“wouldn’t i?”

you don’t get the chance to fufill your threat, because satoru sees that you’re serious a second too early—everything’s a blur as he grabs your wrists and bunches them into one hand, firmly securing your hands behind your back. his chest rests on top of your back as he folds you over the bathroom counter, and his reflection leers at you from the mirror. “nice try, baby. but remember, you’re dealin’ with a world-class serial killer.”

“world-class? how humble of you,” you snap irritably, craning your neck to glare at satoru out of the corner of your eye. “you asshole, get off me or i’ll—”

satoru interrupts you by prodding at your lips with two of his fingers, forcing your mouth open and slipping them inside. you instantly attempt to bite him, but his fingers are so long that they trigger your gag reflex instead. “missed me, detective?” satoru coos, curling his fingers downwards and pressing on your tongue. a little whine involuntarily slips out of your lips, and satoru takes that as a yes. “yeah, i can tell,” he continues, studying your heated face in the reflection of the mirror. “i bet you couldn’t stop thinkin’ about me since that night, yeah?”

he doesn’t bother waiting for a response before he extracts his fingers and leaves you gasping for breath. you watch as satoru lifts his now-soaked fingers to his lips and runs his tongue over them, ice-blue eyes boring into your own. it’s disgusting, filthy even, but that doesn’t stop your thighs from clenching together in a futile attempt to hide your arousal from him.

“y’know, i think you’re wearing too many clothes,” satoru sighs, resting his chin on top of your head and smiling coyly. “wanna fix that for me?”

“do i have a choice?”

“no.” satoru pushes himself off of you and gives you enough space to start removing your clothes without his smothering presence. the idea of running away or screaming crosses your mind, but the serial killer’s smile makes you certain that you’d regret it—and that’s even disregarding the knife that’s still shining at you from his pocket.

seeing as you don’t really have any other option, you slowly shrug off your coat and let it slide down your body and onto the floor. your collared shirt comes off next, followed by your pants, until there’s hardly anything shielding you from satoru’s hungry eyes. the feeling stirring in the pit of your stomach is hard to describe—it’s something like a mix between longing and fear, two emotions you hadn’t felt since that night.

and maybe, even though every instinct you have insists that this is the last thing you should be finding pleasure in, you want to feel that way again.

“you really coulda been anything in the world with that body,” satoru sighs, leaning back against a wall and taking his sweet time looking you up and down. his eyes narrow slyly as he watches you shrink away from him instinctually, and the next thing you know, he’s on you again, hands tracing over your skin and lips unbearably close to yours. “although, i guess it’s a good thing you’re a detective, ‘cause i wouldn’t have met you if you weren’t.”

you shouldn’t be agreeing with him, and as he lifts you up onto the counter, you also know that you shouldn’t be letting him do this. it goes against everything you swore to protect when you joined law enforcement, and if this ever got out—no, when it got out, you’d be the pariah of the city.

but even after thinking it through, one, two, maybe even three times, you can’t find it in your heart to care about much else than the hands pushing apart your thighs and slipping inside your shamelessly wet cunt.

“heh, how long has it been since we last did this?” satoru coos, eyes glazing over with a mixture of lust and adoration. his face is redder than you’ve ever seen it—the blush spreads all the way up to the tips of his ears, and it’s even more prominent underneath the overhead lights as he eyes you. “two weeks, right? feels like it’s been twenty.”

“do you ever shut up?” you mutter sourly, averting your eyes from satoru’s. he responds by curling up the two fingers he has inside your cunt, a mean little smile on his lips.

“careful with that mouth of yours,” satoru warns, pushing his fingers in farther until he’s practically knuckle-deep inside of you. his thumb rests firmly against your clit, toying with the sensitive skin. “it’ll get you in trouble one day, pretty girl…” satoru withdraws his fingers in one swift motion with a soft, wet pop. he lifts his hand to his lips and licks off your slick, swiping his tongue over his fingers a couple times with a smile. “y’know what? i’ll let you go if you can do one thing for me, ‘kay?”

he waits for your response, raising an eyebrow patiently for you to catch your breath. it almost feels like deja vu, or some cheesy movie from the 90’s: the pretty little detective getting fucked by the big bad serial killer, and you know how these films always ended—not pretty.

“what?” you ask halfheartedly, expecting him to ask you to do something like erase him from the police records or sabotage the investigation. satoru cups your face with both hands, leaning in close enough for his lips to brush against yours, and his smile is almost mocking when he replies.

“suck my dick.”

part of you wants to ask “that’s it?”, but the glimmer in satoru’s knowing eyes makes you certain that he won’t make this easy for you.

“what if i say no?” you ask tentatively. it’s a stupid question—now you’re just playing russian roulette with his rationality, and either way, you already know your decision.

the past two weeks have been torture. every waking moment of yours was spent thinking about the man you fucked, and every time you thought of his carefree smile and feather-light touch, you just felt guilty for wanting more. after all, when you first became a detective, you swore to prioritize your job and not make any personal relationships with your subjects. and yet, here you were, almost too eager to get on your knees for the serial killer who you swore to incapacitate.

satoru shrugs nonchalantly in response to your question and not-so-subtly shoots a furtive glance at his pocket, where the handle of his knife still pokes out. “you’re a smart girl. i think you can guess, yeah?”

and that’s how you ended up with your lips wrapped around satoru’s dick for the seventh time (if you include every fantasy you’ve had about giving him head). it’s almost funny how he switches up the second you run your tongue over his blushing pink tip—his face goes red, all the way up to his ears, and the little breathy moans that slip out of his lips would be adorable in any other context but this.

“f-fuck, wasn’t expecting you to be this good,” he manages to mutter through gritted teeth, eyes fluttering open and shut. “where’d you learn to suck dick like this, heh—”

it’s been.. a while since satoru first helped you get on your knees in front of him and unzipped his pants, and even though it could’ve just been a couple minutes, it feels like this is all you’ve ever known. satoru’s ice blue eyes have barely moved from you since you started, and it looks like it’ll stay like that until you finish—or, more accurately, until he finishes.

satoru’s foot bounces on the floor as you lick a long stripe from the tip of his dick to the top of it, and the way his nails dig into his palm makes you absolutely certain that he’s close to cumming down your throat. “shit, don’t— don’t stop,” he chokes out, threading his fingers through your hair and involuntarily pushing down your head. “fuck—”

when satoru finally cums, it’s pitifully obvious—actually, it’s almost embarrassing. last time, you were the one in shambles when he was done with you, but now, it looks like it’s the other way around. his eyes flicker as they almost roll back from the sheer pleasure of you sucking him dry, and when satoru’s cum shoots out of his painfully hard dick, it’s a hot mess that leaks out of your mouth and down your chin.

“y-yeah, good girl,” he murmurs shakily, reaching down and swiping his thumb over your cum-soaked, swollen lips. you lick off the thick, viscous liquid from his fingers instinctually, a dazed little smile on your face as you watch satoru tilt his head back towards the ceiling.

it’s interesting, seeing the city’s infamous serial killer like this. he’s leaning back against the white tile of the bathroom walls, chest heaving from his orgasm, and in that moment, you realize that his attention is on everything else but you.

so, naturally, you stab him in the back.

not literally—that’d be a pain for your office’s custodian to clean up, but you extract the knife from satoru’s discarded pants and, before he can register the sharp object in your shaky hand, you press it to his blush-red throat.

satoru’s hazy eyes widen in disbelief as he realizes what’s going on before they narrow in what looks almost like a mix between anger and shock. it’s stupid, foolish, and almost naive, but somewhere in your chest, it feels like a dagger pokes at your softened heart when you categorize the look in his eyes as betrayal. which is, by all accounts, entirely unreasonable—did he seriously think you wouldn’t take advantage of him like this?

at the end of the day, no matter how good the dick was, you weren’t about to sacrifice your well-paying job for a man on the run from the law.

“what the fuck?” satoru snaps, hand twitching in a movement to throw you off of him, but thankfully, the sudden shift in atmosphere heightened your instincts to a point where nothing could possibly catch you off-guard. you dig in the knife a millimeter deeper into his throat, avoiding eye contact with the man you just made cum with your mouth. “are you—”

“yeah, i am,” you assert, biding time. as much as you’d like to pretend that you’re completely in control of the situation, there’s only so long that you can hold up this stalemate. satoru’s stronger than you physically, and the second he figures out a way to handle the knife pressed to his neck, he’d get his revenge.

satoru comes to this conclusion about as fast as you did, and his lips curve upwards in a jeering smile. the look in his eyes is borderline insane when he snarls, “nobody’s gonna rescue you from me, princess. just you wait—”

and, with perfect comedic timing, the bathroom door opens, and one of your female co-workers steps in. you’ve never talked to her much, but thankfully, her instincts are even faster than yours.

what happens next goes by in a haze. your co-worker holds a gun to the side satoru’s head, and calls for backup. then, a handful of sleepy-eyed police officers haul away a cursing and fighting satoru to who-knows-where.

but just before he’s out of sight, satoru shoots you an unsettlingly calm look. and as if that wasn’t concerning enough, the last words he mouths to you are “this isn’t over.”

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atrwriting · 9 months

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more, more, more — carmy x reader

carmen berzatto x coworker!reader

listen to me. this man? this man?? so fucking slutty. so fucking slutty i can’t even think straight. i am absolutely AGHAST at how little writing there is of this man online. absolutely OUTRAGEOUS. he looks like that and none of us have done his character justice?? DISGRACEFUL.

i wrote this in direct response to how angry i am at how little there is.

as always, warnings… SMUT!, alcohol consumption, alcohol consumption with sex, smoking, p in v penetration, work relationships, overstimulation, carmen berzatto being an absolute mind blowing fuck on a table i mean in bed

also, minors fuck RIGHT the fuck off

barely edited we die like men

i stole that joke don’t come for me

anyway....

you didn’t really know how it happened.

you were once an unemployed law student, scared of drowning in bills, and eagerly awaiting a call back from anyone that would hire you — when she called.

natalie berzatto.

her voice was warm and comforting on the phone, and very eager to have you come in. she was relaying important information to you on the phone, and while you grabbed bits and pieces, it was hard to focus on anything else besides the sheer excitement of finally having a job. the job would be stressful, sure — but at least you wouldn’t be broke and stressed.

unfortunately, your first couple of shifts were a mess and a half. you took instructions well, and performed well, but in the hospitality business — that means nothing when an oven burner is out, a dishwasher doesn’t show up for a shift, richie starts barking, or when carmen’s upset.

carmen.

fucking carmen.

while soft spoken, there was nothing that could compare to the look of approval in his eye when you had completed a task to his standard. most people would consider the job of a hostess useless, or not a job at all — something to laugh at, but carmen? no. that man took your job very seriously, as he knew what it meant to provide the full experience to the customer.

however, when something was lacking in the kitchen and that experience was interrupted… carmen took the look of approval, almost gratefulness, away and replaced it with something that everyone felt like they had to walk around shards of glass.

when he was angry? oh, fuck… that could ruin anyone’s night.

the worst of it happened when his sister unexpectedly went into labor. two weeks early.

carmen had left the place screaming, and, in the process, had also left his things at the restaurant, including his jacket, wallet, keys, the lot — so to be nice you went to drop it off at his place. worried that he might be at the hospital, you texted him.

you: hey, going out for a drink. saw you forgot your stuff at the restaurant so i grabbed it because you’re otw. you home?

carmen: oh shit thanks. i’m home

so there you stood. at his front door, his stuff in hand.

you quickly adjusted your long hair, worried about your appearance. it was weird to show up to carmen’s place in your regular attire — seeing as though your regular attire on a night with your friends was black flare jeans, a tight black long sleeve v-neck that showed off your cleavage — you were concerned that he might be concerned with who he exactly employed. however, his niece was just born… he had more important things to worry about.

so you knocked.

and barely waited.

carmen was barely at the door a few seconds later before you came face to face with the man who constantly let exhaustion ride on his back.

“you good?” you immediately asked, handing over his stuff.

he nodded. “yeah, uh — thanks.”

“you look like you could use a drink,” you laughed. “want to come with?”

he shook his head, the corners of his lips somewhat curving upwards. “nah. day was hectic. you want one? come in — for a drink?”

you smiled. “i don’t want to intrude, especially after the berzatto family excitement of the day.”

“i owe you,” he sighed. “but don’t let me hold you up if your friends are waiting.”

you smiled. “one drink won’t hurt.”

one drink definitely did not hurt.

drink two and three definitely didn’t, either.

how much carmen made you laugh definitely made your stomach hurt, though. in a good way.

“you’re killing me,” you cackled. “who knew quiet carmen berzatto was such a good host.”

“you can call me carmy, y’know,” he spoke, saying his cigarette before pouring you another drink. “everyone else does.”

you shrugged. “you’re pretty professional in the kitchen. didn’t want to impose.”

“i don’t think you could impose a day in your life,” he chuckled. “i think you’re the only one that knows boundaries in that fuckin’ place.”

“says the mysterious one,” you giggled. “the only reason any of us know your nicknames is because richie likes to share your baby stories.”

“speaking of babies…” he took a drag. “thank you for helping sugar out so much. she told me to tell you how much she appreciates it.”

you shrugged. “‘s nothing.”

“nothing?” he scoffed. “you keep her sane. definitely keep me sane.”

“always got your back, chef,” you giggled.

he smiled, and ashed his cigarette once more. his long, thick fingers stretched around the circumference of his glass. one fingertip tapped against the glass and a few droplets of condensation fell to his countertop.

you were twisted around in your seat to face carmen, eyeing his attractive hands. in your peripheral vision, you saw him lift his head to cock it towards you and stare at you. the longing look sent shivers up your spine, but you gazed at him through your long lashes as you waited for his response.

“you do,” he spoke. “always have. we were lucky to find you. i - i was, i mean.”

“more like i was lucky get a call from natalie,” you laughed. “it’s so hard to find a well paying job nowadays.”

“heard,” he rasped. “you happy at the bear?”

“very,” you replied. “staff keeping you happy, chef?”

he chuckled. “when i’m not made to scream, yeah.”

“that’s fair. we’re lucky to have you.”

there was only so many things you could think of to say to carmen before you began to consider that you were imposing. you slapped your hands against your thighs — a implicit signal it was time for you to go. he led you to the door, where he reached out for your coat. you smiled at him, thanked him for the drink, and slid your arms through the jacket as he held it out for you.

you don’t know what caused you to, maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was you — or maybe it was how good carmen smelled — but you glanced up and over your shoulder at the polite man behind you.

you didn’t have anything to say. frankly, you said something last — it was his turn. however, carmen’s sense of societal expectations started and ended with the door to the kitchen. but there, by his front door? basically holding you by the shoulders, and staring back down at you? he had nothing to say.

however… his eyes could share a thousand things about him. more specifically, emotions. carmen’s eyes showed exhaustion, a bit of dehydration, to keep it a buck, but there was so much intensity in those crystal irises. they were a stunning, clear blue… but with the way carmen was gazing down at you, there appeared to be no clear thought in his head.

and he did nothing.

so you could do nothing.

you found yourself disappointed at his actions, or rather — lack thereof.

you simply smiled, and went to turn away. you reached for his door knob, when you felt the slightest brush of calloused fingers against the skin of your wrist. the feeling shocked you, pricking at your nerves, but you didn’t stop until you felt those fingers enclose around the circumference of your wrist.

like they had with the glass, moments ago.

you turned back, letting your long and thick eyelashes ghost over your line of sight. all you could see was a frozen chef, standing tired, but staring back at you.

when his gaze fell to the floor, you stepped closer. he glanced up.

you felt the heat rise to your cheeks as you softly asked, “what’s up, carmy?”

“first time i had someone over.” his parted lips closed so he could swallow, and his eyes drifted between your lips and the floor. the words were right there, on his tongue. they were so close you could feel them, taste them. he replied, “i, um… don’t want it to end, uh — i guess.”

you smiled and turned around in place, barely inches from his face. his breaths were pushing past his lips in small, light puffs that hit the tip of your chin. it was like he was conscious of everything he was emitting; his vibe, where he was looking, even his fucking exhales. he was cautious and frozen and all you wanted was for him to be relaxed, or as close to, as he was moments ago.

“already drank you out of house and home, carmy. what else you got in mind?”

his eyes widened, but his voice stayed level. “what else i got in mind?”

you hummed in agreement with a coy smile on your face. you folded your lip between your teeth and stepped backwards. carmy glanced at your hips and feet hesitantly, shifting his weight slightly. while his eyes were trained on you, his parted lips quivered slightly which told you that there was still some nervousness lingering in him. with every step you took, carmy took one as well. you kept stepping backwards, and carmy kept stepping forwards, until your back was pressed against the wall.

carmy’s lips weren’t slightly quivering anymore. there was no hesitation in his figure when he leaned down slightly and rested a flat palm against the drywall above your head. his breath was hitting you on both cheeks — as if they weren’t hot enough already. inside you were screaming. you were screaming, and screaming, and screaming and all you wanted to do was grab both sides of his face and smash your lips to his. you wanted to, but you wouldn’t. you wanted to see if he would.

“you know,” you spoke, raising your back. your cold palm pressed against his cheek. it was burning — almost as bad as yours. “even though you’re the boss… never seen you actually taste anything.”

“no?” he rasped. the gruffness in his voice pricked at your cheeks and went straight to your core. “and what do you want me to taste, sweetheart?”

you released your grip from his cheek and brought your hand down to your face. with a manicured nail, you tapped the plumpness of your bottom lip. you stared into his eyes — a dare.

“fuck.”

with his free hand, carmen wrapped your hand in his own and pressed it to the middle of his chest. he held it there, pressed against his heart, and surprisingly it was the exact spot you wanted to hold him. you wanted to hear — no, feel his heart that was beating slightly faster than normal. when carmen finally pressed his chapped lips against yours… you saw stars.

the alcohol coursing through your veins made you melt into the man before you. his hand on the wall slid down until he was rubbing the side of your neck, and then gripping the base of your skull. his fingers, his beautiful, skillful fingers threaded through your hair like it was one of his pieces of art and he was creating something. he twisted your strands until he had your head bent back, practically supported by the heavy palm of his hand. the motion made you gasp into his mouth. carmen swallowed it whole. every. last. bit.

“y’taste so fuckin’ sweet,” he moaned against your lips.

you hummed with him. the warmth of his body engulfed your body into his until the moment started and ended with carmen anthony berzatto. you could taste the liquor on his tongue that danced with your own. with every breath he took, bits of smoke would linger between the two of you. it went straight to your head, swallowing your senses whole. you didn’t know if it was the alcohol, the cigarettes, or carmen himself, but you felt like you were swimming.

“this okay, sweetheart?” he asked, pulling away for a second. a thumb of his stroked the skin of your cheek as he stared at you, waiting for feelings of regret from you. “d-do you want me to stop?”

“please don’t stop, carmy,” you gasped, pulling him back into. “you’re perfect.”

you didn’t expect that would make carmen slide his hands down your body and grasp the back of your thighs. his fingertips pressed into your skin, pulling your legs up and around his waist. you squealed against his teeth and couldn’t believe you had found yourself in this situation.

it’s not that carmen wasn’t handsome, no. the man was drop dead gorgeous in a tortured artist way, and you always had a thing for men that looked like they needed a hug but wouldn’t admit it. but… he was your boss.

what could you do about that? it’s not like you could stop now. even if you had told him to stop, got your shit and left — the damage was done. you both had crossed the boundaries, and you were going to reap what you sewed.

in that case… might as well have a little fun with it.

he had placed you on a neighboring table. his large hands gripped the flesh of your thighs and you couldn’t help but whine into his embrace. his tongue glided over your lips and teeth and with your tongue in the messiest way possible and all you could chant in your head was more, more, more.

and that’s when you found yourself pulling at the bottom of his t-shirt.

he stepped back slightly, throwing his shirt over his head. his swollen lips were parted, and his eyes searched your face. you found your chest rising and falling with anticipation, and realized you should’ve been more concerned with how he was dealing with all of this.

“you okay, carmy?” you whispered.

he nodded, letting a few fingertips of his ghost over the skin of your cheek. his crystal eyes glanced down to your lips.

“we can stop, you know,” you whispered again. “it’s okay.”

he nodded again before dipping his head down to the side of your neck. his plump lips left wet kisses on the sensitive skin and you moaned into the open air. you widened the space between your knees, allowing for carmen to wedge himself between your thighs.

“you’re always talking such good care of me, sweetheart, so good to me,” he rasped against your throat, sucking on the skin. “but all i want to do right now is have my fingers inside you. y’gonna let me?”

“yes, carmy,” you whined. “yes please.”

“such a polite girl f’me.” carmy’s mouth was attacking your throat. moans escaped passed your lips like carmy was squeezing them from you, claiming them. his fingers traveled down the front of your clothes and stopped at the button of your jeans. sliding it open, carmen berzatto slipped his perfect hands into your jeans.

“right there, please,” you gasped once his fingers found your bundle of nerves.

his fingers dipped into your core and spread it all over where you needed him most. warmth began to spread through your hips and your knees widened for him. his drew circles different ways until he noticed that when he drew counterclockwise circles, you bit your lip and your eyes appeared to involuntarily flutter shut. you felt carmy smirk against the skin of your neck.

“what made you this wet, baby?” he hummed, sucking at the base of your throat.

“you, carmy,” you whined. “felt it as soon as i saw you when i first walked in. needed you so badly.”

he smirked again. “so bringing my things wasn’t of the purest intentions?”

heat rose to your cheeks with the sensual actions that were taking place below the belt and carmy’s accusation. you grew worried at what he would say if you said no, that you honestly just wanted to help him out… but if carmy wanted to play like that, you could play.

“n-no,” you whined as the pleasure began to spread throughout your whole body.

carmy was holding you so close to him. it was like he was your support — supporting you through such a physically vulnerable moment. your legs were practically shaking at this point, trying to take everything he was giving you and not start sobbing. you were grabbing at any piece of him you, wanting to kiss him — but he wouldn’t let you. fucking bastard.

“good,” he stated, staring you dead in the eyes. your mouth fell open at his response, a pant pushing passed your lips. “i don’t have the purest of intentions when i do this.”

carmen berzatto slid two long, thick fingers inside you ever so slowly. the motion pulled small moans out of you like you were a pathetic mess of a puddle and the sun rose and set with him. you felt his fingertips press against the upper wall inside you, while another finger worked at your clit, and all you could do was hold onto him tighter.

“it feels so good, carmy,” you whined. “i love your fingers so, so much.”

“yeah, baby?” he breathed against your ear. “you wanna cum f’me?”

“faster, please, i will,” you sobbed. you fucking sobbed as the tapping motion inside you hastened. “oh god — oh my fucking god —“

“that’s it, sweetheart? that’s what you needed?”

“yes, yes — fucking — fuck — yes.”

“f-fuck —“ he groaned broken, incoherent phrases against your throat. his breath was hot and heavy on your skin and all you could think about was how good he felt inside of you, and also how badly you wanted all of him inside you. interrupting your thoughts, he spoke, “show me how good it feels, baby. finish all over my fingers f’me.”

that broke you.

that fucking broke you.

it was like a shock of lightning hit you straight in your core and the power from the strike spread throughout your entire body. every muscle of yours went taut as you arched your chest into carmy’s.

with his expert hands, he fucked you through the orgasm. “that’s it, baby. that’s it. keep cumming for me.”

it was like carmen berzatto knew everything to say to make you shatter. you couldn’t even breathe — all you could do was give into the spreading feeling of bliss and hold your breath while it washed over you. it was wave, after wave, after wave of mind-numbing orgasm and carmen held you through all of it.

“pretty girl.”

“i know, baby. you’re such a sweet girl f’me.”

“that’s it, sweetheart. take it.”

once the waves finished hitting you, your chest was rising and falling heavily. carmen peppered light kisses along your neck, being gentle as to your state, but you were having none of it. you reached for his belt.

“greedy.”

you smiled lazily at him. “any objections, chef?”

he smirked at you, letting his fingers ghost over your sensitive core. a shiver ran up and down your spine at the almost painful action. “be careful — or i’ll make you cum again.”

you knew he wasn’t joking. you let out a slight giggle before you dragged the zipper and his boxers down. freeing his cock, you pumped his shaft.

carmy was once dominantly kissing your neck and whispering mean things in your ear, but now he was using the crook of your neck to support his forehead.

“you have such a pretty cock, carmy,” you whispered in his ear. there was something so comforting about being intimate with a man where you both could be vulnerable, and you weren’t sure if you would ever let it go. you want him everywhere he would let you have him. “i don’t know if i want it in my mouth or inside me more.”

he chuckled at that, crooning back into your embrace when you would touch a very sensitive part of him. “dirty girl — you’re so fuckin’ evil.”

you were worried the friction was becoming too much for him, but you didn’t want to raise your hand to your own lips, so you swiped some of the juices from your core and used it to lubricate the skin of carmy’s cock. it was a quick motion — you didn’t think he’d notice, and plus his eyes were most likely closed.

but when he spoke, you froze.

“do-do that again.” his voice was rough with lust. “do that again for me.”

you were hesitant at first, but you decided to make a show of it. you slowly dragged two fingers up the length of your slit and rubbed a very slow circle around the circumference of your clit. you gasped at the sensitivity, slightly jumping at the touch.

“fuck, that’s hot,” he groaned, breath humid on your neck.

you smirked at his response and reached for his cock. your hand slipped along the smooth skin of his cock, drawing a deep groan from carmen. the poor man was so sensitive — almost aching from what giving everything he had to you previously felt like.

“so big, carmy,” you breathed. “so big and pretty.”

“y’know what would be prettier?” he asked, pressing a kiss to your jaw line. “watching you put it inside you. can you do that, baby?

you smiled at him devilishly. carmy’s hands shoved the rest of your jeans down your legs and flung them somewhere in the room. your pussy was aching — dripping for the man before you. the sensitivity had left you, no longer prickling at your nerve endings. all that was left was the want for more — anything carmy had to give you.

“please,” you whined, rubbing the head of his cock against your glistening folds.

“i love when you beg f’me,” he groaned. “such a good fuckin’ girl.”

both of your lines of sight drifted down to the view of your hips. you both watched in awe as you lined carmy up with your entrance as he pushed his hips towards you.

the throws of passion and want for carmy were intense, sure — but so was the want to enjoy this while he could. he pushed in the tip of his cock, groaning slightly as your tight hole encased him. you whines at the barely filled feeling — so empty, needing more. carmy, however? carmy didn’t care. he wanted to feel every push and pull of your muscles between your hips.

carmy kept his eyes turned down at your pussy and you swallowed more and more of him inside you. he gripped the flesh of your waist, fingertips digging into you. your own hands were splayed our flat against the cool countertop of the table — a direct juxtaposition of the boiling feeling that electrified the top of every inch of your skin. you whined as carmy took his time with his thrusts, pulling back every so often when he felt resistance, and then pushing back in ever so slightly, yet slightly farther, each time.

“please, more,” you gasped, folding your lip between your teeth. “i want all of you.”

“baby isn’t patient, huh?” he asked, continuing with his motions. “gotta have it all, when you want it?”

“i can’t be teased right now,” you sobbed. it was pathetic how needy you were, but fucking christ did it turn carmy on.

“this what you want, baby?” he asked, pushing into you deeper.

your walls were squeezing him like he was the only thing that existed to you. the burn at your entrance was something so bittersweet, something so delicious — you didn’t know how you were going to keep control and make this special for him as well, let alone how you weren’t going to cum right then. but you didn’t care — you didn’t have the strength to care.

“yes, carmy — please,” you begged, bucking your hips into him weakly. “fuck — your cock feels so good.”

“yeah, baby?” he pressed into deeper. “so impatient you can’t handle it slow?”

“i want you to fuck me, carm,” you bit with lust dripping from every word. “fuck me — use me however you want — please.”

fuck.

that set him off.

carmy was a patient and low maintenance man, sure, out of necessity and convenience mostly. however, when he had the most beautiful girl he had ever seen, with a dirty mouth to match, talking back to him, and begging him to be selfish?

fuck patience. fuck ease. and fuck being selfless.

carmen’s grip tightened on your waist, and he pushed the last parts of his cock inside you.

it immediately hit you right where you needed him — that soft, sensitive spot so deep that barely anyone before him could dream of reaching. your walls gripped the smooth skin of his cock and you screamed. you fucking wailed when he finally pounded into you painfully, but so fucking sweetly.

“dirty — fucking — girl,” he grunted, thrusting upwards into your pussy.

there was nothing like the sight of carmy finally taking what he wanted. no expression of shame, or guilt, or hesitation on his face — just a man, slightly bent over before you, inside of you, holding you so close to him because, in that moment, you could give him what he wanted — needed. and, in that moment, all he needed was you.

the side of his face was pressed against yours, breathing heavily into your ear. the few groans he let escape his throat were guttural — almost animalistic. they went straight to your core, practically flooding around his cock. your whines of pleasure forced his hips forward and back faster and harder with each motion. balancing your weight and carmy’s with a firm hand of yours behind you on the table, you clamped your free hand on the back of his neck. you twisted a few stray strands of his hair around your fingers, tugging at them. every thrust caused you to pull his hair, him, closer and harder into you.

“laythefuckdown,” he spat, to your surprise.

the command startled you, sure — but it also made you bite your lip in anticipation. he pressed a wet, heavy kiss to your cheek, throwing butterflies in your lower stomach, as you released him. before you could lay down, he stopped you.

“you want to give me what i want, baby?” he whispered against your lips.

you nodded, gazing at him with dark, lust filled eyes.

“then i want your pussy to finish around my cock,” he stated. “think you can do that f’me?”

“y-yeah,” you replied, shakily, but full of trust.

you laid down and carmy regained his footing at the end of the table, keeping his cock pressed firmly inside you as he stood above you. his cock twitched against your most sensitive spot inside you, and you whined at the new angle. he gripped one of your hips firmly, but let his other hand ghost up your glistening lips.

“such a pretty fucking pussy,” he rasped, gazing at it. “takes my cock so well. but right here…”

he pressed his thumb against your clit.

you would’ve jumped if his hand wasn’t keeping you locked to the table.

“this is what i want,” he spat. “so fucking pretty.”

he began rubbing rough, fast circles on your clit. your legs were shaking from the overstimulation, and you thought you could cry from the sensation. your back arched off the table, and your hands struggled to find something to grip — to balance you as carmy tortured you.

but then his cock started working itself back into you again, hitting that spot that needed him so badly.

“think you can cum like this, baby?” he asked, taunting you. “be a good girl for me, yeah?”

“yes — !” you groaned, reaching for the end of the table with one hand. grabbing it, you tried to steady yourself, but it was no use. not with carmy. “fuck — it’s so much — it’s too much carmy —“

“gonna cum for me, sweetheart?”

you threw your head up to stare at the man. he was rocking into you like that was the only thing he knew, fucking you like it was the only thing he wanted, but there was so much focus on his eyes. so much focus on you.

“gonna give me what i want?”

“yes, yes,” you were nodding your head so pathetically, so sweetly for him. tears were practically threatening to spill over the corners of your eyes, but they glistened at him, and only him, and god did it fuck with him. “please, carmy — let me cum for you.”

“do it,” he ordered. “fuck, baby — cum for me.”

your hips were bucking against his pelvis and his hand, too erratic for him to be precise like he wanted to. you were chasing his fingertips, chasing the orgasm that even in his selfish state he was so generous to give. whines left your throat involuntarily as the intensity in your lower abdomen grew, and grew, and grew. your eyes were screwed shut as you pushed yourself to your elbows, holding yourself up as you couldn’t help but curl into yourself. carmen may have been looking at you, or something else — it didn’t matter. all you saw was the black of your eyelids, until is was white.

white. pure white.

your finger nails dug into the meat of your palms as the heat spread from your womb to the entirety of your body. every nerve ending and hair rose to the highest point of height they could, and you held your breath. the feeling of immense pleasured you washed over you — wave after wave, after wave, after wave. it hit you, it crashed into you, it fucking drowned you — it swallowed you whole until you were gasping for air. your orgasm was violent — practically mine splitting. you were shaking. you were sensitive beyond belief, beyond repair — and the prickling feeling wouldn’t stop. you were gasping for air as you looked down, only to find carmy’s hand still working between your thigh.

still rubbing those fucking circles.

“c-carmy,” you sputtered, tears wet in the corner of your eye. “please — i c-can’t.”

“shhh,” he whispered. “just keep cumming, baby. just keep cumming for me.”

your chest split open at that, throwing you back against the table top. shivers went up and down your spine as you took carmy’s torture.

“that’s it, baby. that’s it.”

his words were music to your ears as you screamed for him.

“ohh, fucking shit — that’s it —“ he hissed. “just like that. take it all for me — oh, fuck.”

you were dazed and confused on carmy’s table, basically seeing stars. absolutely useless, fucked out beyond words. you felt the weight and warmth of carmy’s body lean over, and rest against yours, as his hips sloppily rocked into you.

you wrapped your legs around the middle of carmy’s back, locking him in place. one hand went to clamp on the back of his head, and the other pressed against the side of his cheek.

against his lips, you whispered, “cum for me, carmy, please. i want to feel you inside of me.”

“good — fucking —“ he grunted, pressing his lips to yours in a farm, hard kiss as he shook. carmy’s tongue shoved itself into your mouth, and down your throat. carmy was everywhere — so deep in every part of you. you hummed with each moan of his you swallowed, rocking your hips against his and rocking him through his orgasm. gasps left his lips as he gripped any part of you he could, doing anything he could to hold onto you and keep you in place.

“holy f-fucking shit,” he gasped against your cheek, pressing kisses to your cheek and the length of your neck. “that — that was — it was so —“

“i know,” you spoke, giggling slightly.

carmy laid his head against your collarbone and you weaved his wet curls around your fingers. he rested fully against you, completely relaxed.

“fuck your friends,” he mumbled. “stay here tonight — as long as, um — you want to, that is.”

your giggle hummed in your chest. carmy’s confidence leaving him in the middle of the sentence surprised you slightly, but not enough to leave you unamused. “‘m not imposin’?”

he chuckled at that, and pulled you up from the table and into his arms. "fuck off."

-----

lmk what you think :) love yall -L

#carmy smut #carmy berzatto #carmy #carmen #carmen berzatto #carm berzatto #carm smut #carmen smut #the bear #bear #carmy bear berzatto #carmy the bear #carmy x you #carmy x reader #carmen x reader #carmen x you #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x you

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gaycousinlarry · 1 year

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people are genuinely so fucking stupid i wanna SCREAM

#‘so you’re saying it’s okay to break the law if you think you have a good enough reason!?’#um YES OBVIOUSLY what the fuck??#‘you’re against democracy if you don’t think elected politicians should have power’#yeah UNLESS their politics are facist and go against human rights - then they can just shut the fuck up and burn #yes the fucking racists scare the shit out of me and the government is using it’s power every day to take away people’s rights #but i swear to fucking GOD it’s these stupid fucking ‘normal’ people that will do me in #read a fucking book abt what politics fucking is and how democracy fucking works you stupid fucks

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humansofnewyork · 4 months

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“Stop signs? I don’t care about any of that shit. Don’t have a license. Don’t have a license plate on my bike. I’m an outlaw through and through. I take it very seriously. The way I look at it, there’s a law of government and a law of man. And I follow the law of man. Right and wrong, that’s it. And the government don’t do right. I’m not trying to make myself a martyr. They already won. Darkness won. I’m just taking care of me and my own and doing what I can to keep their claws out of my back. I’ve got a half mile dirt drive that goes way back up in the woods, and that’s not far enough. They tried to pin me with some multimillion-dollar drug ring, and this is what I told them. In the courtroom, while my lawyer is elbowing me in the ribs to shut up. I said: ‘Listen man. You're fucking with a bunch of hillbillies trying to get high. All we do is fucking work on cars and bikes and snowmobiles and four wheelers and then go riding, and afterward we try to get naked with our old ladies. I’m just giving people that I care about something that they’re going to get elsewhere, that I can get them for a way lesser price and make sure the shit ain’t fucked with. What’s the problem with that?”

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2hightocare · 5 months

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WHAT YOU NEED ✷

Synopsis: Jungkook and you try getting into the Christmas spirit, but you end up getting fucked up against the kitchen counter.

Pairing: Jungkook x f!reader

Genre: established relationship au!

Warnings: smut, size kink, light spanking, squirting, creampie, unprotected sex (don’t b dumb nd wear condom.) fluff, cussing, Jungkook has a dirty mouth. a kms joke, hair pulling and choking

Word count: 2.3k

A/n: let’s not sayyyy.. when i say i was giggling and kicking my feet i am not fucking lying! (Jk had me on a chokehold istg😒) they flagged my shit… um

Is it barely November 1st? Yes.

Are you putting the Christmas tree up already? Fuck yeah.

Jungkook would clown you for your love for Christmas, and honestly, you didn't care because you loved everything about it. The decorations, the new flavored coffee menu’s, the gifts underneath the tree, and the cold. You loved wearing beanies, scarves, and thick hoodies. Something about this holiday takes you back to your childhood—the way you would gather with your siblings and parents in the kitchen, making sugar cookies to put under the tree for Santa.

Were you heartbroken when your parents told you they were Santa? Yes. You felt betrayed after they lied to you for thirteen years of your life. When you shared your story with Jungkook, he burst out laughing, sharing that he found out at age nine after catching his parents in the act, making you want to cry for him.

Now here you both were at 10:40 pm assembling the Christmas tree. Jungkook's mom gifted you both, which is much bigger than yours from last year.

“Oh my fuck—this is too big, baby." Jungkook admires the height of the tree with his hands rested on both sides of his hips. Your excitement rises at how many possible ways you both could decorate it.

"Well, I can tell you hate it,” your boyfriend jokes as his hands wrap around your bare waist from behind. “Your hands are cold,” you flinch. Your hands wrap around his, trying to pass him your warmth.

“And if we decorate it with tiny dicks?” You crack your neck upward to see his reaction. “I mean, go for it, baby."

You swat his chest as he burst into a fit of laughter. “You swear you’re so funny, huh?” You look at him with a serious face, your mouth twitching from trying to hold in the big smile that wants to come out.

Jungkook just shakes his head. “Wanna decorate today with last year's decorations, or we can wait till tomorrow and buy new ones, and instead we can bake Christmas cookies?” He wiggles his eyebrows at you.

Anyone in their right mind would be thinking we’re crazy for already baking Christmas cookies when December is in a whole month. But you both didn’t care.

…

“We should’ve gotten pre-made cookie dough.” Your eyes look around at the marble counter in front of you, filled with all the ingredients your mother-in-law told you to use. “On god.” Jungkook stands beside you. “You know what? Let me call my mom. We need a tutorial, I'm afraid.” You giggle as he pulls out his phone, opening up FaceTime.

The phone rings three times before the camera fills up with your mother-in-law smiling sweetly. "Hi, my babies!” She says first, Your face lights up. “Hi,” you wave a hand to the camera. “Hi mom!”

“You guys look adorable,” she motions to your guys matching pink hello kitty pajamas. “Y/n bought them; I had no choice,” he lied, knowing damn well he wanted to match first. “Sureee.” You rolled your eyes at him.

The call continued as Jungkook's mom gave you guys simple instructions like beating the sugar and butter with a whisk, which Jungkook took over because your hand started to hurt, and gradually adding flour to the mixture, which ended with both of you guys covered in white flour because Jungkook turned the mixer too fast. After wishing your goodbyes, you both slightly shake off the flour, and you put the dough in the refrigerator. Apparently, you have to let it be firm.

“So now we have two hours to wait. I say we fuck.” Jungkook slaps your ass, making you squeal. “You’re horny??” Your hands make their way to his hair, slightly pulling. "Hm, maybe,” he whispers into your mouth, and he gives you a slow, wet kiss. “I’m still sore from earlier." I mumble in between kisses. “Was I too rough?” His rough hands massage your ass. You shrug your shoulders in his embrace.

“Christmas movie, then?” He asks, “I’m so down."

….

“Shit takes like ass,” you say, finishing up the cookie.

Your boyfriend looks around for the long-gone cookie. “I don't know; let’s ask the audience.” He looks around for the invisible camera. “Bitch!” You swat his arm, and he burst out laughing, holding on to his stomach.

“You literally ate that shit up.” His head is thrown back, and the most beautiful laugh roars out of him. “I will kill myself genuinely.” You chuckle while trying another cookie without the frosting you guys tried making from a tutorial on Google.

“The frosting is ass, cause this is a bomb,” you stuff your mouth with the remaining of the cookie humming at the taste. “Am I weird cause I fuck with the frosting?" He dips his pinky nto the bowl where the white frosting is before sucking it off. “Never mind actual shit." His nose scrunches in disgust, and his tongue sticks out, making you giggle.

"No, seriously, why is it so bad?” Jungkook takes a sip of the milk he had served not so long ago. “I have no clue, baby, but the sugar cookie itself slaps." You take your half eaten cookie up to your boyfriend's mouth and say, "Open, ahh." He immediately follows commands and opens before you shove his mouth with the golden cookie. “Mhm,” Jungkook's face scrunches as he bobs his head up and down, savoring the heart-shaped cookie.

“Probably the best cookie I had in a while, not gonna lie,” he states, taking a bite of the gingerman's head.

“Do we have cinnamon?” You make your way to the drawer where you keep all the spices. “ Found it,” you make your way back to the cookie before sprinkling some on your and Jungkook's cookies before taking a huge bite. “Oh my fuck," you moan.

"Oh, my fuck indeed.” Jungkook shoves the remaining cookie into his mouth, moaning at how it melted in his mouth. "Think, I just saw stars.” You say this while he side-eyes you. “Haha no.” He says that before picking you up on the counter, he settles in between your legs.

“Horny still?” You ask again, "Yes, very, I’ll be a gentle promise.” He leaves open-mouth kisses on your neck before slowly sucking.

“No marks.” You moan, your fingers slightly tugging on his hair and making him groan. “Scarf season, princess.” He looks up with a smirk on his face, then continues his actions, sucking and licking your soft spot. You bite your lip, trying to be quiet. Jungkook slowly grinds into your clothed pussy causing you to slip out a throaty moan. “Fuck—“ you throw your head back, your legs caging him closer to where you most need him. “I need you to lose the clothes and fuck me.” Jungkook chuckles at your demanding tone.

“Yeah? Want my cock already?” His hands rub on your thighs. You nod your head, looking down at the imprint of his now-hard cock. You reach for it, but Jungkook slaps your hand away, making you pout. “Patience princess,” Jungkook's hands tug on the band of your pajamas, pulling them down and taking your underwear along with it.

You squeal as your bare ass feels the cold counter top, and your boyfriend laughs before throwing the clothes somewhere on the ground.

Your pussy clenches over nothing, and you go to press your thighs together to relieve some of the tension, only for Jungkook to hold them wide open. He pulls his hard cock out of his pants, giving himself two pumps before slapping it on your wet center. Your gaze fixated on his dick on your pussy, your lips between your teeth moaning slightly when your boyfriend gives it another slap with his dick.

“So wet for me, baby,” he says, giving it another slap. "C'mere," Jungkook's picks you off the counter from your arms, “bend over. ” He orders.

You quickly follow his command, your juices dripping down your legs from how wet you were already. Jungkook spreads open your legs some more before making his way in between them, giving your ass a slap. “Fuck—“ you clench your thighs together as he soothes the red mark he just left. “Fuck, when are you going to let me fuck this ass.” Your boyfriend asks you, giving you another spank, making you squeak.

“Never,” you moan, making him chuckle under his breath. “Worth the try.” He jokes before sinking down into you, both moaning at the feeling. You felt so full. Jungkook is so big, stretching your pussy deliciously. “So big shit," you moan, your cheek pressed against the counter as he fills you up to the hilt. “You can take it, baby,” Jungkook says between gritted teeth. He felt you clenching around him, having him on the verge of coming right there in an instant.

“Always so good for me, baby. Want me to fuck you so good, huh?” He whispers into your ear, and you clench around him, earning you another spank, ripping a loud moan out of you. “Fuck me," you stutter over the pleasure your lower belly is feeling. “That’s what I like to hear, baby,” Jungkook says before pulling his cock out, just leaving the tip in before slamming into you. Your mouth hangs open as he repeats the movements over and over again. “Fuck just like that,” you grip to the edge of the counter, your eyes close immediately, as his rough hands compare to your smooth skin, hold tightly to the sides of your hips, pounding into you from behind.

“This cunt is mine, right?” Jungkook groans, sliding his cock in and out of your walls. You could only reply with a loud moan. But that’s not enough for Jungkook; your boyfriend wraps his hand around your hair, pulling you upward and arching your back in the process. “Use your words, princess.” He orders in your ear, his movements never halting.

"Fuck—your pussy! Only yours,” you spit out whatever words you could make a sentence out of. “Fucking you dumb, huh?” He lets go of your hair and moves his hand around your neck, adorning it like a necklace and applying some pressure. "Mhmm,” you moan, trying to open your eyes but shutting close after Jungkook slams into you again.

The room fills with the wet clapping sounds, groans, and moans that keep spilling out of your guys mouths. Your fingers find your sensitive clit, applying pressure and drawing small circles. "Fuck—I'm gonna come!” Your legs shake beneath Jungkook, and his arm wraps around your waist in case your legs give out on you.

“Yeah baby? Gonna come for me?” He slaps your hand away from your clit replacing it with his. Your back arches against him, and his cock continues hitting your g-spot repeatedly, sending you over the edge.

“Oh fuc—“ Your words are cut short when the pleasure in your belly finally snaps, and Jungkook's fingers furiously move on your pussy, making you scream into your hand. Wetness pools on your feet, dripping down your legs. “Fuck so hot when you squirt,” Jungkook continues fucking you through your orgasm, the overstimulation has you shaking underneath him. “Too much fu-fuck,” you head drops to the counter. You clench, sending Jungkook over the edge.

“Coming,” your boyfriend's head drops to your shoulder, his movements becoming sloppy, springs of cum shooting inside you, moaning at the feeling.

His movements come to a halt, his mind foggy, his cock throbbing when he pulls out, making you whine, feeling empty.

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck,” Jungkook mutters under his breath as he sees his cum dripping out of your hole. Without a second thought, he shoves it back in with his index finger. “Aw shit,” you moan at the sensitivity.

He chuckles, kissing your shoulder blade. “You were so good for me, baby.” He leaves open-mouthed kisses all over your back, breathing heavily. You are trying to catch your breath, and your legs feel like jelly, not being able to move from your current position.

“Mhm,” you hum softly, your eyes closing. "Baby, don’t fall asleep on me,” Jungkook smiles at you, picking you up in bridal style, making you to squeal.

"How the fuck can you be so cute after just getting railed?” Your boyfriend moves your hair out of your face as you try to snuggle into his chest. “You play too much,” you mumble.

Jungkook lays you down on the bed before disappearing into your guys bathroom; a couple minutes later, coming out changed and with a warm rag in hand, “here, baby open,” he coos motioning to your legs. You do as he says. He slowly cleans and wipes your center, making you moan from oversensitivity. “Almost done,” he says before giving a last swipe and throwing the rag somewhere in the room.

“Do you want a pill, baby?” He asks against your cheek, to which you nod. He stands up, walking to your side of the closet and getting you something comfy to wear. “Here. Be right back.” Jungkook leaves the clothes next to you and leaves the room.

As you change into your clothes, Jungkook waltz’s in with an ibuprofen and a glass of water on his other hand. “Here,” he says, waiting for you to poke your head out of his hoodie before handing you the small pill.

You swallow the pill without any complaints before dropping down on the bed. “So tired.” Your eyes close before you even hit the pillow, making him chuckle. “Worn you out, huh?” He teases before dropping beside you, pulling the covers over both of you. You immediately cuddle up to his side, feeding off the warmth he radiates. Your leg is over his torso, and your hand is on his chest.

“I love you, princess.” He whispers into your hair, leaving a small kiss on your forehead. “I love you; now let’s go, mimi’s." You kiss his clothed chest, hoping he can still feel the kiss.

#bts fanfic #bts jungkook #fluff #jjk #jungkook #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fluff #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #jjk smut #smut #bts smut #established relationship #jjk x reader #bangtan #drabble

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sabohime · 4 months

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♡ 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐜𝐞 𝐦𝐞𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐞𝐝𝐮𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦

multi x fem!reader

♡ . eek my first post!! some simple headcannons for you guys! enjoy :) nothing explicit (for now 😈) but! there are references to dicksucking!

♡ . includes: law, sabo, sanji

LAW

Law is constantly on edge. It hurts seeing your captain so stressed all the time.

So, being the dutiful crewmate you are, you decide to…provide him with a little ‘relaxant’. It’s not your fault he’ll have to work for it…

“Y/n-ya, what are you-“ “It’s hot, Captain!”

Law blushes at that. You can barely see it through the Tang’s dim lighting and his tanned skin, but from the way his eyes widen and his breath hitches, you can tell your plan is working.

Why is he harping about your wardrobe? Well, your typical Heart Pirates boiler suit had been traded in for a tight tank and skimpy shorts. How old were these? With the way your thighs were pinched by the elastic of your shorts, and the way your breasts practically fell out of your top, Law was certain you had dug deep in your closet to fish these clothes out.

“Y/n-ya. Seriously,” his tattooed hand rests on your shoulder now, dangerously close to the thin strap of your tank top. “We have uniforms for a reason.”

“Are you really gonna make me change, Captain?” you pout. You watch his brow furrow, and you know you’ve got him now.

“I think I’ll have fun ripping this off of you, Y/n-ya,” he grunts, hot breath now in your ear. His hands wander down to your shorts, palming your ass and taking notice of your lack of panties. “Even more dress code violations? I might just have to punish you tonight, Y/n-ya.”

You gulp. Law says Room and suddenly you’re in his bedroom.

“Regretting your decision, Y/n-ya?”

SABO

Once again, Dragon’s given him far too much paperwork.

As his secretary, it’s your job to provide him with some repose from his workload.

So…What better to let him take another load out on you? Maybe you should snag a pillow from your desk chair next time…

“Chief, I brought you the tea you asked for. A splash of milk and extra sugar,” you say, repeating his order sweetly and perfectly from years of practice. When you cross the threshold to his office, you find your chief of staff with his vest off, cravat undone and on the table, and his shirt partly unbuttoned.

The sight of his scarred, muscular chest makes you gulp. It’s okay Y/n, you can do this, you assure yourself.

“Thank you, Y/n-chan. You’re so kind, helping me out,” Sabo says, his cheeks rosy and smile innocent. You think him the perfect caricature of a schoolboy.

“It’s nothing, chief. I am your secretary after all. It’s my job,” you grin, placing the tea on his desk in front of him. You make sure to lean over and give him an eyeful of cleavage, just in case he might be interested.

“Is it your job to tease me as well?”

You freeze. You didn’t actually think he’d take the bait. Shit.

“Don’t be shy now, Y/n-chan. I’ve already gotten a nice view of your tits. And your skirt could be pulled down a tad, I suppose. You’re hardly professional these days,” you listen, face hot, sweat beginning to run down your back. At least he wasn’t scolding you— that was evident in the fact he said ‘tits’, and the generally teasing lilt in his usually silky smooth voice. It’s gotten deeper because he’s so tired, and it’s starting to make you clench your thighs.

“I-uh, I’m sorry, chief. I- I figured…” you scramble, trying to think of some excuse to remedy this situation. “I figured you might want a, uh, distraction. Right! A distraction from work!”

“Oh really?” the blond grins, pushing his chair away from his desk and moving his hands to unbutton his trousers. “Dragon-san has been giving me so much paperwork. It’s the least you could do, right Y/n-chan?”

You watch in awe as he takes himself out of his boxers.

“Now, Y/n-chan…How much of a distraction can you be?”

SANJI

Sanji gets hard just from smelling women’s perfume. So seducing him is easier than…really anything.

So, one night you can’t sleep. And the chef in the kitchen preparing recipes seems like a wonderful target for your affections.

“Sanji-kun, what’re you making?”

Sanji jumps from his place stirring on the counter, surprised at the sound of your beautiful voice.

“Oh my! Has an angel descended down on me to try my humble cooking?” the man swirls around you with hearts in his eyes, eventually bending down on one knee to kiss your knuckles. “It’s nothing special, my dear Y/n-swan. Simply practicing recipes for fruit tarts.”

You cup his cheek. A trickle of blood comes down his nose, but he pulls away from your touch to quickly wipe it away.

“Sounds yummy, Sanji. Could I try one?”

“Of course, mellorine!” Sanji keens. You smile at how cute he is. The blond grabs a fruit tart, which happens to be your favorite fruit, and brings it over to you.

He sits it on a plate in front of you, waiting like a lapdog as he anticipates praise for his cooking. However you don’t move to pick up the tart.

“Y/n…swan?”

“Feed it to me, Sanji-kun?” you say seductively, leaning over the kitchen island so your breasts pop over your crossed arms. Immediately Sanji is staring, but you don’t scold him this time. This was your goal.

“Of- of course, anything for my Y/n-swan,” Sanji stutters. He brings the small tart to your lips, and as you reach the last bite, you grab his wrist.

You decide to be extra bold, and lick a stripe up his finger. Your mouth detaches with a pop, and Sanji looks like he might pass out.

“That was good, Sanji-kun. Do you have any other special treats for me?”

#♡ sabohime.writes #one piece smut #one piece x reader #one piece x y/n #one piece headcanons #law x reader #law x female reader #trafalgar law x reader #trafalgar law x y/n #sabo x reader #sabo x female reader #sabo x you #sabo the revolutionary x reader #sanji x reader #sanji x fem reader #sanji x you #sanji x y/n

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doobea · 9 months

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I CAN MAKE YOUR BED ROCK - RIN ITOSHI

synopsis: You're a famous online smut author, married to an international superstar athlete, and everyone around you thinks you have the perfect sex life. What they don't realize is Rin sleeps in the guest room and you're still very much a virgin.

contents: fem!reader, arranged marriage, suggestive themes but nothing too explicit (read with caution), characters are all in their mid/late-20s, reader has a small supportive friend group of other smut authors, mentions of alcohol, sex toys, and lots of failed attempts to seduce an oblivious (?) husband, mdni word count: 2.4k a/n: you guys already know that this is gonna be a wild one. is this my debut attempt to write smut but make it a romcom? maybe. this is gonna be a four-part series!!

一 : Oh baby, I be stuck to you like glue ->next.

To say that you’re infamous on the internet isn’t an exaggeration but a truth. No, you haven’t posted anything controversial regarding your marital status and haven’t gotten yourself into a crazy D-List influencer scandal; you’re infamous solely because of your erotica literature and, surprisingly, your in-laws were fine with it.

“Whatever brings home the money.” Your father-in-law would always chime.

You weren't ashamed of your career, and it practically all started in college when you wanted to pass the time writing for your favorite fandom. In a short amount of time, you had gained a small devoted following on your blog that made a lightbulb switch go off in your head - what if I could do this for a living? And so you did. Fast forward three years, now you are making a comfortable living working from anywhere with a wifi signal available and have over 950k followers on your socials, all under your alias 'YN Finalis'. With that many followers, most people would feel worried about their personal life being breached, but you're not dumb; you like to keep your personal life on, what you like to call, "low battery" mode.

Here's what your near million followers do know about: you’re 24 pushing on 25, you've come from a rather wealthy background, you’re married to an athlete, you’ve written well over 40 original explicit stories, and you have a plethora of sex toys and contraptions in your master bedroom.

What they don't know is: you're in an arranged marriage with Rin Itoshi for the past year, he only sleeps in the guest bedroom, and you're a virgin with a really creative mind.

Crazy, right?

But it's not like you're alone in your thoughts, today was the day when you decided to finally vent to your close fellow internet authors about your sexual frustrations.

"My in-laws keep asking me the same thing every time they call," Your voice reaches your laptop where your weekly meeting was set up on the kitchen counter. "I mean just how do they expect us to have a kid when my own husband doesn't even touch me?" You finish the remaining wine in your glass in dismay as sudden gasps were heard from the laptop's speakers.

"He hasn't initiated sex with you in these last few months?" Chigiri gasps.

"More like in the entirety of our relationship." You cry as you pour out another glass. You pick up your laptop, frowning seeing everyone's solemn looks, and make your way to your living room couch. "I'm still a virgin for crying out loud, like who's still a virgin at 24?"

Probably a lot of people but this is about you, not them!

"Oh my god," Hiori looks like he was going to cry for you. "Maybe your husband's just shy? Could it be he hasn't found the right time for it?"

"But a whole year?" Bachira is next to speak. "No wonder your stories have been popping off, you've been super horny."

You try to hold back your drunken sniffles. "I just don't understand! It's not like I'm ugly or anything, plenty of people wanted to date me back in college! He comes home to a clean house, I make fantastic meals that aren't just a ham and turkey sandwich, and for his past birthday I even gifted him an all-paid trip to Okinawa!"

"Shit," Shidou whistles, "I'd fuck you if you made me a ham and turkey sandwich."

"Not now for jokes." Hiori scolds and his tone softens when he speaks to you, "Outside of sex, has your husband been good to you?"

You pinch the bridge of your nose in frustration. "God, yes. He's so good to me you have no idea."

It wasn't like Rin was neglecting you in other forms of intimacy. Hugs and brief kisses were frequent both in and outside of the house. He loves holding your hands, shopping for clothes with you, giving you forehead kisses, and kissing you 'good morning' and 'good night' every day. There was absolutely nothing wrong with him, other than the occasional 'I'm irritated and I need my space' phase that required a whole evening to himself - but that was beside the point.

"Have you guys even talked about it?" Hiori continues.

"Oh god, absolutely no, it's an arranged marriage for fuck sake. What if I come off too strong and he doesn't even see me like that? Then the whole marriage will just be awkward!"

"But he's willing to do all those other things you listed down, maybe he is just shy." Bachira retorts.

"You think maybe he swings the other way?" Shidou asks but it's genuine this time.

A long period of silence falls over everyone as they try to figure out what they could help you with. But ultimately this was your husband to figure out, Rin wasn't married to them and they don't even know who Rin Itoshi was.

“Ah, whatever!” You swirl the wine in your glass around, frowning at your sullen reflection. “Maybe we’ll just end up adopting a baby instead of having one, maybe his parents won’t be able to tell the difference. And maybe I’ll just have to resort to reading other smut to satisfy my lack of intimacy. Chigiri, when is that next chapter coming out?”

A few clicks are heard from the other side of the screen before he says, “You’re in luck, I’m about to have my friend beta read this and it should be up by tonight.”

Perfect, you thought.

Chigiri, whose online username is RedPanther, has the third most followers on the adult website that everyone in the group was a part of. He's known for his works centering around the tropes 'forced proximity' and 'enemies to lovers', often the smut he writes will include a steamy threesome that has some sort of pegging involved - but that's always towards the second to last chapter.

"Oh!" Bachira calls out your name with a smile, "Aren't you working on a new story yourself?"

“Remind me again,” Shidou leans forward, "what's this one about?"

You find yourself feeling slightly lighter now that you've vented and the topic has shifted to something you're more confident speaking about. After a few seconds of rummaging through your Word documents, you drag the file labeled "I CAN MAKE YOUR BED ROCK - rough outlines & ideas.doc" to the group chat. Rarely do you ever share your creativity flow with other people but, after your unwarranted trauma dump, you figure it was better than nothing.

"Funny enough, it's loosely based on my marriage." You confess sheepishly, "This is my way of coping with it, I guess."

"Nothing wrong with that." Hiori chimes in, "It's free compared to having a shitty therapist!"

"Damn woman," Shidou's pink eyes dart back and forth from the screen, eyebrows furrowing up and down as he makes his way through your well-detailed outline. "you need to get laid, ASAP."

You click open your story file to follow along. In the tags section, you listed: Arranged marriage, unrequited love/one-sided, brat tamer, BDSM, choking, spanking, spitting, breeding kink, cum slu–

Okay, maybe Shidou is right (which is a surprise), you do need to get laid. But it's also okay to get slightly defensive for the sake of your ego, right?

You playfully roll your eyes at your group mate. "Ok ok, no need to judge that hard coming from the person who literally writes degradation kinks for a living!"

"Well, I think this story will be your best one yet!" Chigiri and Bachira both flip you a thumbs up over on their end of the call.

After a few more exchanges of small story updates in everyone's life, you all decided to end the call since it was getting rather late in the afternoon and you have yet to get started on dinner. You briefly thank Chigiri for his upcoming update and hop off, just in time before you hear the familiar sounds of the front door opening.

"I'm back."

"Welcome back, Rin!"

You can't help but feel slightly embarrassed and guilty that you were essentially gossiping about your husband's lack of sex drive to your friend group, which he hardly knows about, when he comes home with a large bag of takeout and your favorite coffee order. Rin is dressed in his typical workout outfit, which consists of a black form-fitting t-shirt and grey sweatpants that were just loose enough that you can still make an outline of his 'magic jewels', as Bachira likes to write.

"Baby, you didn't have to." You quickly grab the items from his hands so he can set down his gym bag.

He hums in response, briefly kissing your forehead before making his way into the kitchen to fetch a tall glass of water. "You've been cooking all week so I wanted you to take a small break," Rin says with a smile.

Your ears go warm and mimic the smile back, “Thanks, how was practice today?”

He sighs through his nose and wipes away the remaining sweat-covered bangs sticking to his forehead. “Rougher than usual but nothing too crazy. Isagi was more annoying compared to yesterday.” Rin says with a small pout.

“Boo,” You stick your tongue out in agreement, “how dare he annoys my one and only husband?”

“Oh, shut up.” He flicks a finger to your cheek and lets out the slightest fake scoff.

After hydrating, Rin announces quietly that he’ll come back to eat as soon as he takes a shower and darts to the guest bedroom. And with that, you’re reminded of your odd predicament.

He is a good husband and knows that you care for him and vice versa. When both sets of parents first introduced you two, it was awkward and you knew from reading his background that he wasn’t the most sociable of people but you were, and still are, patient. This arranged marriage was more or less a business deal between fathers; your father held the CEO title at a top entertainment company in the nation and Rin’s father wanted to secure the spotlight for the growing star athlete. Rin didn’t say much during that meeting, and neither did you.

Your first kiss with him was also on your first date. It was at his apartment, both of you shared the same hobby of playing horror games, and you were sitting thigh to thigh on his two-seater couch. You were dying multiple rounds in, fingers bruised from button-mashing and mind-busied with inappropriate thoughts as you kept stealing glances at your painfully attractive fiance. It didn’t take long for Rin to notice because it was stupidly obvious. He sat his controller down, took one look at you, and asked, “Do you want me to kiss you?” with a weird little smile that was seemingly almost out of character from what you knew of him. And the kiss was … awkward to say the least. You remembered him leaning down and you were leaning up, mashing lips and a little bit of teeth together. No amount of research that you had done days prior could’ve prepped for that. And it was almost as if it was his first time kissing too, but you fixated on your inexperience than pay any mind to his mysterious relationship track record.

One year later and you’re still stuck at first base.

As if on cue, you feel your phone give out a series of buzzes in your back pocket, already knowing that it’s from your online penpals. You break out from your thoughts and scroll to the top of the messages:

Bachira M. [BluntBangs] “You should try seducing him tonight!” Hiori Y. [ChoppyCyan] “You remember reading Chigiri’s fan favorite short story - “Till Death Do Us Part”? There was this one scene where the characters had to share one bed because the other bedroom got ruined by a leak! Maybe you can “accidentally” make that happen too?” Chigiri H. [RedPanther] “I remember I had a fun time writing that scene. You should definitely try and flirt with him, y/n.” Shidou R. [HornyDemon] “And if your husband won’t fuck you then I will /jk” Hiori Y. [ChoppyCyan] “Shut up you’ll fuck anything that has a pulse”

They weren’t necessarily wrong. You didn’t want this dynamic to potentially go on for another year or even for the rest of your life - trying wouldn’t hurt anyone, right?

You quickly fill up a pitcher of water then peer into the spare guest room and notice warm lighting bleeding through the cracks coming from the bathroom door and the sounds of running water. With Rin still busy washing up, you take the liberty to start messing around for your impromptu operation. You weren’t exactly sure when or who suggested sleeping in separate bedrooms to start but, to your knowledge, this is the first time that you’ve actually sneaked around in his room.

You start with the closet, opening its double doors and seeing his clothes all hung in order and by color. His sneakers and cleats were all stored in separate clear cases in the bottom corner while there is a small center shelf in the middle that holds his cologne, deodorant, and moisturizer. He’s neat, you think to yourself before deciding that it’s probably best to leave his belongings alone and focus on ruining something in the room that was less personal. Next is the carefully made bed with extra fluffed pillows, then the freshly well-kept plants on the window sill, followed by the small framed photo of your wedding day on the bedside table. Guilt immediately rushes over your consciousness.

“No, this won’t do either.” You groan, suddenly feeling like this is the dumbest thing on earth now. “I should just give up.”

“y/n?” Rin’s voice calls out and you snap your head towards his direction, soon to be met with a series of incoherent sputtering from the male as you realize that he’s completely wet and naked.

“Oh my god!” Hands and pitcher fly to your redden face as you try to come up with an excuse but nothing comes out the way you want it to, “I-I uh–water! I thought you needed more water–I’m sorry!”

You hear him scrambling around the room, most likely searching for a towel to cover up his impressive lower half. “You’re fine,” Rin’s voice sounds flustered and unusually high pitched, “just give me a second–”

“N-No I’m sorry! I don’t even know why I’m standing here I should just go and–” Closing your eyes might’ve been the worst choice all day because soon your body meets the wall and soon the floor, spilling the pitcher’s contents all over you in the process.

Your phone vibrates again, text reading:

Bachira M. [BluntBangs] “Did it work?!”

#blue lock #bllk #bllk x reader #blue lock imagines #blue lock x reader #doobea writing #itoshi rin #rin itoshi #rin itoshi x reader #itoshi rin x reader #blue lock smut #itoshi rin smut #rin itoshi smut #bllk smut #idk how slow but like slowish #they are not gonna fk until like the last chapter i think #but will do everything else in between #i can make your bed rock - rin itoshi #mdni

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sp0o0kylights · 1 year

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Adopt a Jock Part 1

Part 2

Part 4

Shoutout to @bloomingconflagration for the title!!! And a HUGE thank you to everyone who left comments or gave suggestions!! I love you all you amazing, silly humans <3 <3

There comes a time during a long work shift were your average overworked and underpaid employee starts to think they’re hallucinating.

In Gareth’s case, it was when Steve Harrington walked through the doors of Palace Arcade, making a beeline right for him.

“Gareth?” Steve asked, like he was the one out of place. “What are you doing here?”

As if people just randomly stood behind the counter of retail and entertainment spaces with a nametag on.

You know, for fun.

With a great deal of restraint, Gareth managed to hold the sass back, instead opting for a far more polite; ‘I work here, Harrington. What are you doing here?”

Because no matter how much Hellfire had adopted Steve into its fold, Gareth could just not see the guy choosing to spend his free time at the local arcade.

Not of his own free will, anyway.

“Pick up duty.” Steve said, proving him right not even a second later.

“Of what?” Gareth asked, puzzled, right before Steve’s name was shouted in stereo.

A miniature stampede took place as several children proceeded to swarm him like oversized puppies, most of them trying to talk at once.

“One at a time, we talked about this!” Steve barked, loud enough to be heard over the commotion. “You’re giving me and Gareth here a headache!”

He waved his hands in a “calm down” gesture, shaking his head and looking at Gareth in exasperation. “Probably giving the people in the video store next door one too, lord.”

“Wait.” A curly-haired kid said, looking between the two older teens like he was watching the laws of the universe rewrite themselves in front of him. “You know Gary? How?”

“We are not close enough for you to call me Gary.” Gareth said dryly, for what felt like the fifteenth time that day.

This was a regular battle between him and the kids who haunted the arcade.

(One had overheard Grant call him Gary the last time he was in, and ever since, every single child that graced this fine establishment with Cheeto-dusted fingers and candy-induced sugar rushes had decided to replace his actual name with his nickname.

The fact it clearly frustrated him only egged them on. )

“We go to school together Dustin,” Steve said, as if he were talking to someone particularly dense.

“Yeah? You go to school with lots of people. You bitch about most of them.” Dustin fired back.”Plus Gary’s a total nerd. I bet you call him names.”

"Hey, language!"

Gareth’s eyes narrowed as he glared down at the little fucker. He was definitely going to remember Dustin (and equally going to watch and see what arcade games the younger teen played-- and top the score chart of every single fucking one.

He might be a nerd but he wasn’t gonna take that shit from a middle schooler.)

“Hate to break it to you brats, but your babysitter here just joined our D&D club.” Gareth replied, if only to finally one-up the little bastards. “Our DM is building him a character as we speak.”

(Which wasn't even a lie. Eddie was building a character for Steve. The guy just refused to give any input on grounds that he "wasn't going to play anyways." )

Abrupt and sudden silence, as several stunned faces stared at him.

“Oh goddammit.” Harrington cursed, as the entire herd of children turned on him in unison like some kind of hivemind horror monster.

“You joined the D&D club,” Dustin said slowly, outraged. “And you let them make you a character sheet, but you won’t play with us!?”

“What the hell Steve!” The sporty-looking one whined, clearly hurt. “You won’t sit in on our games! You said they were lame!”

“They are lame.” Steve defended immediately, pushing at sporty-kids head. It was fond though, the kind of gentle shove an elder brother gave to a younger one. It caused the kid's camo banana to fall into his eyes, which he adjusted quickly with a grumble. “Turns out the high school version’s cooler.”

“He’s lying.” That from the bitchy one, whose arms were crossed over his chest, a glare on his face. “Steve probably paid Gary to say that”

Gareth had seen that exact same stance on Steve at lunch that day, and wondered if the little asshole knew who he was copying when he did it.

“Who cares about D&D?” This from the redhead, standing with another girl giggling in her ear. “I’m just amazed Steve has friends.”

“Really Mayfield?” Steve said, looking almost betrayed. As if he thought she was going to be the one to defend him in this weird little showdown.

The girl leaning on her giggled harder, making Mayfield grin (even if she tried to hide it.) She whispered something, which the redhead outright laughed at before repeating; “Adult friends even!”

“Okay.” Steve said, clearly cutting the kids off before they could embarrass him further. “Thank you, unwanted peanut gallery, for all of that lovely commentary. Now go back to playing the games you little shits robbed me of all my quarters for, or we’re leaving.”

Henderson’s eyes narrowed. “I thought you were here to pick us up?”

“Oh I’m sorry, did Jonathan magically appear behind me in the last five seconds?” Steve turned around pretending to search the parking lot through the windows. “No? Then I guess we’re still waiting. Unless you, Lucas and Max want to leave first.”

“You’re such an ass.” Dustin huffed, rolling his eyes. “Why aren’t you waiting in the car anyway?”

“It’s raining, it’s cold, and I thought I’d come in to say hi to my friend.” Steve replied, so quickly it took Gareth a moment to realize what Steve referred to him as.

He'd gotten the friend title before Eddie.

His best friend was going to fucking freak.

“Are you done drilling me or are you going to let Max kick your ass at DigDug again?”

“Shit!” Henderson cursed, spinning to intercept the redhead as she bent to put a coin in said arcade machine. “Max, you said you’d let me keep my leaderboard score today! Max!”

“I know you said you watched kids, but this wasn’t exactly what I was imagining.” Gareth said, slumping against the counter.

(He'd been thinking of Steve watching much younger kids for one, and two, he was starting to get the idea the babysitter thing was used as an insult.

Gareth knew a big brother vibe when he saw it.)

Steve gave him a tired look. “Me neither man. Me neither.”

Then; “You fucking owe me for that D&D comment, they’re never going to shut up about it now.”

Gareth winced. “Sorry. I was trying to help.”

Steve blew out a breath. “I know. I appreciate the attempt.”

Which was better than Steve bitching at him for it, not that he’d really ever done that to Gareth.

The two of them hadn’t quite worked up the nerve to be playful like that with each other, though they had occasionally jumped in on opposing sides to arguments Eddie caused. Gareth figured they’d get there in time, but even with all the progress Steve made, he still had more off days than on.

It was a fragile line to walk with him. Especially when there wasn’t a single member of Hellfire who wanted to ruin the progress they made.

(Even if half of them would never admit to it.)

“Steve?” A voice interrupted, quiet in a way that contrasted directly with how loud the rest of the brat pack was.

Steve closed his eyes for a moment, pinching the bridge of his nose with his hand as if to starve off a headache.

“Yes, Baby Byers?” He asked after a long, painful pause, turning to look at the saddest looking kid in the bunch.

“Is there actually a D&D club at the high school?”

The kid looked at Steve like he wasn’t entirely certain he wanted to hear the answer, but was hopeful for the outcome he wanted anyway.

It was the kind of thing that pulled even on Gareth’s heartstrings, and he was almost immune to anything involving giant, sad eyes after a solid year of working at the arcade.

(Never mind Eddie’s own puppy dog looks.)

Steve’s voice gentled, in a way Gareth had never quite heard him use before. “There is. You’d love it, it’s called Hellfire. I’m sure it’ll still be there next year when you come in as a freshman.”

He nudged him with his shoulder playfully, smiling when the younger boy perked up. “If you’re nice, Garebear here might even put in a good word for you.”

“Garebear?” Max repeated with a burst of laughter, appearing behind Steve like a fucking ghost. “Oh my god.”

“No.” Gareth said, bolting upright from his slouch as he stared at her in horror. “Do not call me that.”

“Sure thing, Garebear.” She outright cackled, as Steve sent him a wide-eyed, apologetic face.

“What did you just call Gary?” The sporty one--Lucas, asked, a wide grin overtaking his face.

“I swear to God.” Gareth threatened, as Steve took another dramatic look over his shoulder.

“Hey look Jonathan’s here!” He yelled, jerking a thumb over his shoulder as he started quickly walking backwards. “Come on, dipshits, we're leaving!”

“Bye Garebear!” Lucas and Max sang together, following after him.

“Harrington!” Gareth howled, as Steve mouthed ‘Sorry’ over his shoulder, all but bolting out the door.

“I like Garebear a lot better than Gary.” Another, random child informed him with a grin as he sauntered past, arcade tickets in hand.

Steve Harrington, Gareth decided, was a dead man.

Not even Eddie’s fucking crush on the guy could save him now.

xXx

“Did you know Harrington has a literal pack of kids he watches?” Gareth asked a few hours later, messing with his drum kit as he set up for band practice. "He even drives them around."

More than that though--he’d seemed almost normal around them. That was the most Gareth had seen the guy banter or act relaxed since Eddie had dragged him over.

“He’s mentioned it multiple times.” Grant replied, tuning his bass. “You have ears Gareth, use them.”

“Gareth? Listen?” Jeff teased as he dragged an amp into the garage. “I don’t think I’ll live to see the day.”

"Oh screw you guys.” Gareth growled, winging a drumstick toward his friends for the insult.

Grant, long used to Gareth's tantrums (and Eddie's dramatics) didn't look up from his bass.

Not even when the drumstick hit the wall with a bang!-- allll the way near the opposite end of the couch, entirely opposite of either him or Jeff.

"As usual, your aim is dead on." Jeff appraised sarcastically.

"Like I'd ever actually hit you." Gareth grumbled with a pout. "I was gonna say the kids are older than I expected."

He reached down, blindly fishing for another drumstick from the bucket of them next to his kit.

He came up empty.

"Hey Grantman." Gareth asked, tone changing to something mildly embarrassed. "Could I uh, could I get the drumstick back?"

He got a flat stare back. "No."

"What did I do to get stuck with such dramatic friends?" Jeff joked as he began moving all the amps he’d pulled in back into their usual places.

They hadn't had time to unload anything other than the drums after their last show and the regret was real.

"Eddie’s been standing on tables since seventh grade, you knew what you were getting into." Gareth fired back, making grabby hands for his drumstick.

"And you never grew out of being that dorky middle schooler who snuck into Hellfire games and screamed we were all going to die every time anyone made a bad play." Jeff shot back. "Yet here I am, once again wondering if I should just permanently confiscate Eddie's snacks, your drumsticks, and now Harrington's fricken spatula."

"One year. I am one year younger than you and you act like it's an entire century!" Gareth muttered, as Grant relented and leaned over to fetch said drumstick.

"We all know Eddie chucks food at people, but what'd Steve do with a spatula?" Grant asked as he tossed it back to Gareth.

He missed and nearly took out a cymbal in the process.

"He had a snit while we were making chocolate roulade cause it wouldn’t roll right. Flung the spatula around so much it splattered whip cream on his ceiling." Jeff shook his head as he finished hooking an amp up to his guitar. "I had to rescue it from him."

"His ceiling?" Gareth said in disbelief. "Wait, you were in Harrington’s kitchen?"

"Yeah?" Jeff looked up to find his friends staring at him.

Grant blinked. "The fuck?"

“Can we just play?” Jeff complained, just as embarrassed as Gareth had been.

“No.” Gareth said, retrieved drumstick nearly falling from his hands in shock. “You don’t get to casually drop that you went to Harrington’s house to help him bake and then try to get us to play right after!”

Jeff, who had done exactly that, blushed, skin darkening as he fiddled with his guitar.

“It wasn’t a big deal.” He said finally with a shrug, as if this was something he did all the time and not the groundbreaking revelation that it was.

“Did you meet his parents?” Grant said, sitting up from the couch. “What did his house look like?”

Jeff finally gave up the pretense of playing his instrument.

“I didn't, and it was kinda sad, actually.” He said, as if he didn’t live for this kind of shit.

Gareth knew better than anyone how much of a fricken gossip Jeff could be.

“His house was enormous. I only saw the first floor, and his kitchen is huge.” He set his hands apart at a good distance, showcasing just how large “huge” was, before continuing.

“But it was weird. It was like a model home. No pictures on the walls, no art, no personality to the place at all.”

“What are we talking about?” Eddie asked, finally returning to Gareth’s garage from where he’d been gathering up all the wires they’d thrown haphazardly into his van.

“Jeff went to Harrington’s house.” Grant and Gareth tattled as one.

“To help bake stuff for this Friday!” Jeff defended, the blush creeping back onto his face. “I was curious about his chocolate roulade recipe and he invited me over!”

“When was this?” Eddie asked, staring at Jeff like he’d grown a second head.

Or more likely, Gareth knew, in jealousy. But he wasn’t going to call Eddie out on that just yet.

“Yesterday. We got to talking about it in the parking lot after school.” Jeff said with an embarrassed shrug. “He said he wasn’t the best at explaining how to do things and that he’d rather show me instead.”

“Kinky.” Grant deadpanned, making Jeff sputter.

“You sure you didn’t see his bedroom, Jeff? It’s okay if you fell for the ‘wanna see my music collection’ line. We won’t judge you.” Gareth waggled his eyebrows, ducking with a laugh when Jeff went to whack him.

“Shut up, we just made the chocolate roulade!” Jeff’s ears were red now, and huh, maybe Eddie wasn’t the only person with a crush.

“Guys.” Eddie reprimanded, tone warning.

“Sorry Eds, you know we don’t mean it.” Gareth soothed. Of course, his best friend's anger was less about the gay comments or Steve’s reputation as Hawkin’s man whore than it was about Steve fucking Jeff (and not Eddie) but he had a feeling it wouldn’t be appreciated if he pointed that out either.

Eddie didn’t respond, eyes already back on Jeff. "Details, Jeffery, give us the details!"

He dropped onto the couch, flapping his hands at Jeff in his version of a "sit down" gesture.

Jeff sighed, but repeated what he'd just said for Eddie as he took a seat on the edge of an amp, placing his guitar down gently.

"I think Wayne was right. I don't think anyone else lives there but Steve. Not full-time anyway." He finished.

Which sounded like the best fucking thing ever until Gareth thought about it for more than two seconds.

Tried to imagine what his life would be like if his parents and siblings were gone. Not for a day, or even a weekend, but always.

How silent his normally loud house would be.

Thought instantly that he'd be inviting Eddie, his friends, and hell, l even Wayne, over as often as they could handle.

"The way he looked when I showed up, and how quiet he got when I left I just…" Jeff fiddled with his guitar’s strap. "I think he's lonely."

The four of them sat in silence for a long moment as they digested that.

“Hargrove kicked his ass right? And Byers?” Grant said finally, breaking the silence ad he stared up at the ceiling.

“Old news.” Eddie replied absently, jiggling his leg.

“You think his parents were around for that?” Grant continued, slowly.

No one answered outside of Eddie's leg loudly jiggling faster.

"Did you see the kids hug him or anything?"

"They're like thirteen. I seriously doubt they're pestering Steve for hugs." Gareth answered flatly.

"So he got his ass kicked, his parents are gone, he was supposed involved in that whole has leak thing…" Grant trailed off with an air of someone who expected the end of his sentence to be obvious.

“You’re doing that thing again where you think what you’re saying is obvious and its fucking not.” Eddie grumped. "Just spit it out."

His friend's head finally tipped back down from the ceiling, to face the rest of them. “Maybe the flinching is because no one ever touches him anymore unless it’s to kick his ass.”

“Oh.” Eddie blinked, body going rigid. “Oh shit.”

“That…would make sense. A lot of sense.” Jeff said slowly.

Grant put on a face that read “Duh” loud and clear.

“So what do we do about it?" Gareth asked after a moment.

"Touch him, obviously." Grant replied, like he couldn't believe the drummer was even asking.

Gareth and Eddie shared a look while Eddie rolled his eyes.

"The guy almost fell down the stairs last time I tried that." Gareth pointed out.

Never mind any other time Steve got weird over the lightest of touches. Eddie couldn't even clap the guy on the shoulder without getting major side-eye.

"No." Eddie cut in, sitting up suddenly. His eyes had gone bright, "We're going to trick him into it."

"We're going to trick Harrington into being okay with, what? Shoulder pats?" Gareth echoed, like Eddie might hear himself if his words were repeated back to him. “You realize how stupid that sounds right?"

"Shut up, listen. It's like getting a stray to trust you. You just gotta be calm and so obvious about it that they get confused and let it happen." Eddie had begun practically vibrating, causing his friends to trade uneasy glances.

They knew that look. Eddie only got it when he thought up a plan that was going to cause problems.

"Eddie, that makes zero sense." Jeff told him.

Gareth just shook his head, because only Eddie Munson could compare Hawkins golden boy with a fucking stray animal.

Even if the guy kinda acted like one sometimes.

"I just need an opening." Eddie continued, the little hamster wheel spinning in his head so fast the rest of the band could almost hear it.

If Gareth had been told two months ago he was going to be sitting in his garage, discussing the best way to acclimate Steve Harrington to casual touch, he’d have actually smacked whatever idiot dared spew such nonsense with his drumsticks.

"I did tell tell the kids today you were making him a D&D character." He said, before his best friend could truly go off on some half cocked plot.

Eddie lit up like a kid on Christmas. "Gary, I could kiss you."

Gareth made a face. "Please don't."

He clapped hard before springing to his feet. "Huddle up boys, I've got a plan."

"God help us all." Jeff muttered.

(He huddled up anyway, any thoughts of playing guitar that night fully forgotten.)

Bonus:

"Why don't you just get high and watch a movie with Steve? You're a fucking cling-on when you're high." Gareth complained the next morning, when Eddie swung by to pick him up for school.

Mostly because the plan Eddie had come up with was ridiculous.

Eddie took both hands off the wheel, pressing them against his chest in mock offense while he stared at Gareth and not at the street. “That would be taking advantage of him and I, as a gentleman, would never." He gasped, dramatically.

In his normal voice, he added: "Plus it doesn't count."

“Eyes on the road!” Gareth yelped, swatting an arm. “And you know I didn’t mean it like that. People relax more when they're high and maybe Steve needs something like that as an excuse to allow it. Hell he doesn’t even need to be high, just you.”

Which Gareth personally thought was a very insightful thing to say, so of course he had to ruin it with; “or whatever.”

"Do you recall how you kissed Jeff on the cheek when you were high and then spent the entire next month swearing up and down that you weren't attracted to men last summer?"

"That was different. I was discovering myself."

Eddie outright cackled. "Discovering yourself? What self help book did you pick that gem out of?"

"I was quoting you, you moron!" Gareth sputtered.

"If I said anything like that then I was definitely high and it just proves my point. Steve would just be uncomfortable."Eddie stuck his tongue out. "So there."

"Fine." Gareth sighed. "If we ever get high with Harrington, I'll sit in his lap."

Eddie's eye twitched. "No you will not."

Thrilled to have something to tease the elder metalhead about, a smile graced Gareth's face. "In fact, I'm calling dibs."

"You can't call dibs on a lap! And besides, you don't even like him like that!"

"So?" Gareth retorted. "It's a nice lap, looks comfortable. You don't want it, so I'll take it."

Eddie grit his teeth, grasping the steering wheel so hard his knuckles went white.

"I know what you're doing Gary. This is some bullshit reverse psychology shit and I will not be falling for it."

"Oh contraire, this is sibling bullshit, Munson. You want it, so I want it." Gareth crossed his arms and looked at Eddie smugly. "And unless you do something about it, I'm getting it."

"I hate you."

Gareth grinned, delighted. "I know."

#Gareth @ 15: LOOK AT THESE LITERAL BABIES!#The Party @ 13: SCREW YOU GARY U NERD #Steve is a mom in my head but he definitely has older brother vibes.#Like he's on that 'You can do stupid shit but only if I supervise' phase lol #I don't ship Gareth with Jeff but I can see him picking Jeff over Eddie as the Bi Test Run.#Pre steddie #hellfire adopts Steve #adopt a jock #steve harrington #Eddie Munson #hellfire club #Steve harrington whump #Sad Boy Hours Steve #0o0 fanfics #gareth emerson #jeff #grant #Next part is Eddie Munsons Ridiculous Oneshot

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canon-gabriel-quotes · 1 month

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Transcript -

Gabriel : *heavy breathing and grunting* Bastard.

Useless bucket of bolts. Yeah, you better run!

Load back to your- Ah shit, that was hard. Load back to your little checkpoint.

Yeah, go ahead. Go P rank the other levels.

Oh… I’m sorry. Can-can-can I? Excuse me, can I help you?

Columbo : Oh, uh, hi there. Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt.

Uh, I’m looking for somebody.

Uh, Gabriel is it? Is that you? Is that who I’m lookin for?

Listen, I just gotta say, you did an amazing job uh… Fighting off that uh.

What’d ya-what’d ya call it?

Uh, you called it a…

Gabriel : A mere object?

Columbo : That’s right. A mere object.

Phenomenal work.

I gotta tell ya. Robots, I don’t trust em myself.

Ya know, I had-I had this one episode where uh, there was this robot named Rob and uh-

Gabriel : Uh, yes.

That’s very fascinating, but could you perhaps get on with your introduction?

Columbo : Uh, certainly. So I’m, uh, I’m lieutenant Columbo. Uh, I’m with the LAPD. Uh, I'm in the homicide department.

Gabriel : Homicide? You can’t kill a machine.

Columbo : No no no! Of course not. But um… Well… Ya can certainly love one.

Gabriel : D-d-d-detective I- I don’t- I don’t know what you’re implying there with that statement!

As you can tell I… Despise machines and wouldn’t think about doing so- Loving them, I mean.

Columbo : Yes, of course uh. Absolutely, it’s completely unthinkable.

Except, well. While I was- while I was over here and I opened this door and uh fourteen- fourteen V1 body pillows fell out. Along with a buncha the plushies.

Uh, and I just can’t imagine how ya- how ya happened upon something like that by accident.

It’s a little ridiculous! Uh, frankly.

Gabriel : Uh, no no no, listen.

Detective. I can explain, okay?

Those belong to- uh! That guy over there!

*Filth-like scream*

Gabriel : Yeah! A real freak!

Some kinda pervert. I don’t know why we keep him around.

But uh, I-I have nothing to do with it.

Columbo : Well, ya see, I would believe- I would believe that, but uh.

It’s just that- Well we had the boys at the lab run these pillows and we found your cum- We found your DNA all over em, uh.

You’re-You’re under arrest, I’m killing you.

Gabriel : K-hah. Kill me? *laughs*

Oh detective.

Columbo : Oh. Aw fuck.

Gabriel : I’m afraid you’ve made a grave mistake.

Because, in fact… What is going to happen instead…

Is actually what I’m gonna- AHHHG MOTHERFUCKER

I’LL FUCKIN KILL YOU

SON OF A BITCH

AHHG YOU BASTARD

I’LL RIP YOU APART

PIECE OF SHIT

YOU FUCK

ASSHOLE

BITCH

*Grunting*

Oh Shit.

Oh. What have I done?

V1 : Bro, tell me you didn’t just kill a fucking cop.

Gabriel : The law will be here any second now…

Machine, flush the drugs.

V1 : No way, bro. Let’s smoke that.

Gabriel : All of it?!?

Hm… One last ride…

Well, alright.

*coughing his lungs out*

V1 : No Gabriel, holding it in doesn’t do anything!

*Gabriel continues to cough his lungs out*

End of transcription

Audio source part 1

Audio source part 2

#ultrakill #gabriel ultrakill #v1 ultrakill #alt title was: columbo interrupted their RP session #gabes reaction to someone getting in between him and v1 (or at least pillows of it) is to rip them to shreds. yeah i mean that checks out!!#the way he says 'Some kinda pervert' is so funny to me i cant stop replaying it #this took me. so long. oh my god. no post tomorrow. im not strong enough.#sanest bit of 2024 #and probably the longest bit ever. holy shit.#also he used the wrong filter for columbo here but here is my totally Canon Explanation #If they are in hell he had to become a husk.. duh.

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justagalwhowrites · 1 month

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Stranger in a Bar - Part One

A DBF!Joel Fic

You meet a stranger in a bar, one who is fun and sexy and makes you wonder if the single life is all it's cracked up to be. But there's one big problem: you probably shouldn't be fucking your dad's best friend.

Pairing: DBF!Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: This is smut, OK? Just a lot of smut. Protected P in V sex. Oral sex (m and f receiving). Age gap of 20 years. No use of Y/N. Minors DNI, 18+ only.

Length: 6.8k

A/N: So this was supposed to be a one shot and then it started getting out of hand. It's going to just be two parts for the moment, this is going to be a very little baby fic, OK? Small. Lil baby story. Also. there's a hefty age gap and it comes up because logistics but no power imbalance. Thanks for always putting up with my shit, y'all are the best ❤️

Bar None, Present day

One of your friends had just put Single Ladies on the jukebox when you saw him across the bar. Bar None, the place you’d picked for the night, had one of those stupid app-powered ones and the three girls you had kept in touch with from high school had been abusing it all night long. But the man across the bar was so distracting that you hardly noticed. His eyes were locked on you, so tight and hot that it would send a chill up your spine if it was from the wrong set of eyes. But they were his eyes. Dark and molten and set into a sculpted face with patchy scruff and shaggy curl streaked with gray.

No, you thought, he couldn’t spark anything but desire.

“We should do the dance!” Your friend Emily slurred, tugging your arm. “C’mon! Now that you’re a single lady again, you have to own it.”

She flashed her empty ring finger as Beyonce sang, a cocky - if half drunk - look on her face as she did.

You smiled at her.

“He did put a ring on it,” you twisted the stem of your martini glass. “That’s why there was a problem when he put his dick in someone else. I think I’ll pass on the Beyonce. But thank you.”

“Come on drunky,” your friend Dana looped her arm around Emily’s waist. “Let’s go dance.”

“Woooo!” Emily threw her arms in the air and Dana gave you an exasperated but happy smile over her shoulder as she guided her to the dance floor.

“Jesus, is it that late?” Parker looked at her Apple watch. You half smiled and took a small sip of your drink as she rifled through her clutch for her phone and let out a relieved sigh. “Thank God, Kevin hasn’t been texting with a ton of stupid questions. Why did I think letting a baby get totally attached to me was a good idea? The fact that she only said mama for two weeks was great at first but now that she refuses to do bedtime without me, I’m having regrets…”

“Do you need to go?” You asked, brows raised.

She winced.

“Would you hate me if I left you with the party animals?”

You laughed.

“No,” you said. “Go home, see your husband and kid. I really do appreciate the warm welcome back, you have no idea.”

“See?” She reached across the small table and gave your arm a squeeze. “I told you, just like old times.”

“Did you go back home at 10:30 to make sure a baby was properly put to bed when we were 18?” You teased. “I forgot that part…”

She rolled her eyes.

“Almost old times,” she said. “Besides, you love Bella.”

“I do love Bella,” you said. “And I love you. Go home, I’m good.”

“You’re sure?”

“Positive. Text me when you get there?”

“Of course,” she slipped off the bar stool and came around to give you a hug and kiss your cheek. “I really am glad you’re back. Even if it’s because Reid was a dumbass.”

You just smiled a little and watched her leave, Parker pausing to wave to Dana on her way out the door.

“This seat open?”

The man from across the bar stood beside you, nodding to the seat Parker had just vacated. You smiled a little and nodded once.

“You have very convenient timing.”

“Well,” he shrugged. “Leaving a pretty girl all alone at the bar seems like a crime. Trying my damndest to stay on the right side of the law.”

“And how’s that going for you these days?”

He smirked a little. His cheek dimpled.

“Well enough.”

You looked at him, tracing the creases in his face with your eyes, the streaks of gray catching the low light of the bar. He was probably the oldest man there but damn, did he wear it well.

“You in town for a visit?” He asked, turning his beer bottle in his fingers and nodding to your friends on the dance floor. “Seeing friends?”

You cocked a little smile at him.

“No, actually. Just moved back.”

He raised his eyebrows, a look you couldn’t quite place passing over his warm features. His eyes drifted to your ring finger before he seemed to catch himself and look back at your face. You saved him the trouble, lifting your bare left hand and turning it so he could see. The indentation from your three carat engagement ring was still on your finger but your hand was empty.

“I think we should talk, Joel.”

Bar None, 10 years earlier

The man across the bar had no damn business being that good looking.

It was almost pissing you off how good looking he was. Tall, broad, with golden skin and thick, dark hair, he had the kind of face you wanted to explore intimately, in the way you could only do when someone was inside of you. The way men couldn’t control their expressions then was almost addicting. The way their eyes would roll back and their mouths would fall open, the way they stopped fucking around with pretense and just let themselves feel something - even if it was just your cunt - was beautiful and fascinating and almost elemental. It was like you could look into the very core of them for a moment, the way they always seemed to be able to look into you with just a glance. You wanted that with this man, whoever he was, this man who you caught glancing at you out of the corner of his eye.

“Aww,” Parker pouted happily at her phone. “Kevin misses me!”

“Misses you?” Emily snatched the phone from her grasp, gaping at the screen. “You’ve been gone like two hours!”

“Will you just…” Parker snatched the phone back and looked at the text again. “And I think it’s sweet.”

“You’re ditching us, aren’t you?” Emily sighed.

“I think so,” Parker winced. “Is that OK?”

You just smiled a little.

“Go see the guy who’s got you all crazy,” you said. “But I’ll see you again before I leave town, yeah?”

“Course!” She came and gave you a hug. “Good luck getting rid of me. Have fun at that thing tomorrow!”

“Yeah,” you laughed. “I’ll try.”

Emily rolled her eyes and judged Parker for a bit but it was less than an hour before she was leaving, too, with a man who’d asked her to dance and bought her a beer.

“You sure you’re alright?” She asked as she went to leave.

“Babes, I know how to be at a bar on my own. And my hotel is two doors down. I think I can figure it out.”

She kissed your cheek.

“Love you,” she said. “Try to have some fun!”

You watched her go, thinking about just how long you wanted to be sitting by yourself at a bar versus in a Holiday Inn Express standard room when a voice appeared beside you.

“This seat open?”

The man from across the bar nodded to the seat Emily had just abandoned. You smiled a little and nodded once.

“You have very convenient timing.”

“Well,” he shrugged. “Leaving a pretty girl all alone at the bar seems like a crime. Trying my damndest to stay on the right side of the law.”

“And how’s that going for you?”

He smirked a little. His cheek dimpled.

“Well enough.”

You smiled and introduced yourself before holding out your hand. He took it.

“Joel,” he said. “Don’t think I’ve seen you here before.”

“Because I’ve never been here before,” you smiled. “I’m in from out of town, my hotel is a few doors down. This was convenient and hey, the Yelp reviews weren’t the worst.”

“What brings you to the great city of Austin, Texas?” He asked, settling in on the seat beside you. He was older than you but you kind of liked men that way now that you were in your mid 20s and exhausted by every man you’d dated in college. You liked them a little older, more established, men who knew how to cook their own damn food and give you your own damn orgasm. “Business or pleasure?”

“Neither,” you smiled a little, taking a sip of your drink. “Family event.”

“That’s not pleasure?”

You laughed once.

“Not the way my family does it.”

“That why you’re in a hotel and not stayin’ with them?” He asked, brows raised.

“Bingo,” you replied. “I get in, I get drunk, I get out.”

He nodded slowly.

“Good system.”

“Worked well enough for me over the years.”

The two of you ended up talking about music and books and UT football until last call - far later than you’d intended to stay out.

“Mind if I walk you back to your hotel?” Joel asked. “Not tryin’ to be a creep but… I’d sleep a lot better tonight knowin’ you got back safe. Promise it’s not a ploy.”

“Damn, it’s not?” You asked, tucking your purse on your arm and heading for the door. “Because I was going to ask you to come up to my room if it was.”

“Well shit,” he said, catching up with you. “Maybe it is a ploy then.”

You found yourselves drawing out the walk back all the same, pace more of an amble than a brisk walk, but the hotel was so close that it really only added a few minutes to your walk all the same.

“Well,” you smiled at the door to the lobby. “This is me.”

“Yeah,” he nodded once, looking inside for a moment before looking back at you. “Look… you don’t owe me anything, alright? I’m not the kind of guy who wants to force something. I can just head on back to my truck, no hard feelings…”

“Well maybe none for you,” you teased a little. “But I might have some. Unless you really don’t want to fuck me.”

“Oh, I want to,” he said. “Trust me on that…”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” he laughed. “Been at the top of my list since you first walked in that place, baby, lemme tell you.”

“Well then,” you jerked your head toward the door. “Why don’t we cross it off the list?”

You took his hand in the elevator, his palm so broad, his fingers thick and long and callused in yours. You pressed your back against the wall and pulled him onto you so his hips were on yours and his nose brushed your own. His eyes ranged over your face, hungry and soft and open.

“You sure about this?” He asked, looking down at the rest of your body for a moment before going back to your face. “Sure you don’t have something better to do than some old man?”

“I’m sure,” you smiled at him, draping your arms over his shoulders. “Besides, I like old men. How old are you, anyway?”

“Forty-five,” he said. “How old are you?”

You snorted.

“I’m not sure I should say,” you said, holding him a little closer all the same. “Since you’re all hung up on age…”

“Not hung up on it,” he rolled his eyes. “Just… don’t need to be some youthful mistake is all. Wait, Jesus, please tell me you’re at least out of college, tell me you’re not a teenager…”

You laughed.

“No,” you shook your head. “Not a teenager. And I’ve been out of college a few years, I’m 25.”

“God,” he closed his eyes and shook his head once, like he was trying to shake the idea of you loose. “Still, that’s… you’re…”

You pressed your lips ever so slightly against his, more a quick brush than anything else, giving him every opportunity to pull back.

He didn’t take it.

Instead, he pressed his lips to yours, his hands going to your waist and tugging you tightly to his body while he pushed you back against the wall. Your arms got tighter to him and you opened your mouth, his tongue licking into you almost immediately. Joel didn’t need an engraved invitation, all he needed was a sign that you wanted him and fuck, you wanted him. More and more, each passing second, you wanted him. There was heat in you that was starting to flare so molten and hot that you pulled at his clothes, forgetting that you weren’t alone, not really.

The elevator dinged and he all but sprang back from you, both of you panting for breath.

“Fuck,” he breathed, looking you up and down, pupils blown.

“C’mon,” you took his hand. “I’m down the hall.”

You pulled him along behind you and fumbled to get your room key out of your bag. Joel’s wide, thick hands slipped around your waist as you did, tugging your ass back against his growing bulge and fuck, but he was huge. Thick and long and you knew his zipper had to be fucking killing him, cock that big and hard restrained by mere fabric and a slip of metal. His lips found the hinge of your jaw, your neck, down to your shoulder and you groaned a little as you clumsily forced the keycard in the door, the little beep the mechanism gave one of the best damn sounds you’d heard all night.

The two of you practically fell into your hotel room. You dropped your purse on the first table inside the door and started stepping out of your heels as Joel turned you around to face him, manipulating your body to put you right where he wanted you and the fire in you sparked higher, brighter as he manhandled you. Every touch he gave was loaded with need, the air thick and heavy with it as he pawed at your clothes and skin, licking into your mouth at every opportunity, taking your chin firmly in his heady grip to tug you open further for him, all but forcing you to give him everything.

You were as rough with his clothes as he was with your body, pulling so hard and fast at the buttons of his shirt that two popped free, pinging off the glass of the mass produced art that hung on the wall.

“Shit,” you panted, looking around the dark of your room for the buttons.

“Don’t give a fuck,” Joel replied, breathless, clutching you close and tight before you could pull away. “Didn’t really like this shirt, anyway.”

You shoved it down and off as he tugged your dress down your body, leaving it in a pile on the floor before turning you so the backs of your legs were against the bed. He deftly unhooked your bra with one hand then, ripping the straps down your arms but almost reverently lowering the cups, panting for breath as he exposed your breasts to his gaze. Joel tossed your bra to the side before taking the soft weight of your tits in his hands, cupping them, brushing his thumbs over your hardening nipples as he looked down at you with a look of near awe on his face. You half expected him to shove you back down onto the bed after his race to get you undressed but instead, his arm went around your waist, his hand splaying wide over the smooth skin of your back and he pulled you tight against him, making you gasp.

He moaned, deep and low, and dropped his head to your bared shoulder before trailing his nose over you to your neck, the wet heat of his breath on your skin.

“Fuck, you’re so goddamn soft,” he groaned, almost pained, and pressed his lips to your throat, making your breath catch. You clung to the broad expanse of his back, fingertips pressing into him, trying to get at every inch of his skin that you could find.

His mouth found yours and he gently, delicately, lowered you back onto the bed. He cradled your body against his own, keeping the firm line of him taut to you as he kissed you. Joel rested you on the mattress and you let your legs fall open so he could settle between your thighs, the heady weight of him pressing against your clit and making you moan.

“You got a problem if I explore this pretty body of yours?” He asked, his lips still brushing yours when he spoke. “Because fuck, baby, seems like a sin to not touch every goddamn inch of you.”

He rocked his thick, hard, still clothed cock against your core, as if to make his point, and took your responding moan as the yes it was. He trailed his lips slowly over your body, down your throat, your breast bone, your stomach, your navel. His nose brushed against you, his breath covering you in warm and needy pants. When he reached your underwear - the last thing still on your body - his fingers looped through the band before he paused, looking up at you over your stomach and between your breasts.

“You still with me, pretty girl?” He asked, mouth so close to your skin that the wetness of his lower lip had caught on your stomach. “Still good with this?”

“Yes, Joel, please,” you were practically squirming. He was so close to precisely where you needed him it seemed like you might melt with the want of him. “Fuck, please…”

“Fuck, you’re even prettier when you beg,” he said and started to pull your panties down over your hips. You lifted yourself up off the bed to help and it wasn’t long before you were naked below him. He knelt in front of you and took your knees in his hands, parting your thighs for him and groaning when he did.

“Goddamn,” he breathed, so quiet you weren’t sure you were meant to hear it or if he’d meant to say it out loud at all. “Just… fuck.”

He opened your legs enough to lay between them, settling with your thighs over his shoulders. His thumb traced a slow, tender path over your slit, brushing your clit and making you gasp when he did.

“Swear you’ve got the prettiest fucking pussy I’ve ever seen,” he said before he pressed his lips to your leaking hole. He moaned as he did and you couldn’t help but thrust against him once. He pulled back from you just a little, his nose barely touching your clit as he did. “Needy little pussy, too, huh?”

Your fingers knotted in the bedspread and Joel’s mouth found your clit, softly sucking the sensitive nub between his teeth to tease with his tongue. You fought the urge to rock your hips against his face, trying to remember that this man was practically a stranger, not a lover whose tastes you knew intimately. But that was hard to remember as he worked his way lower, his tongue slipping inside of you with a deep groan.

Joel ate you like you were a delicacy he longed to savor. He started slow, tasting and teasing you open, before delving deep like he couldn’t resist it, his thick tongue exploring and finding the soft and tender places inside you. His thumbs spread you open wide to him, his nose against your clit and you couldn’t stop yourself, you rolled your hips against him. He moaned into you and you forced your hips down on the bed, trying to clear your head enough to be still.

“Sorry,” you panted. “I didn’t mean to do that, you’re just… really fucking good at that.”

He stopped and pulled back from you enough to look up your body again, a frown on his face, your slick glistening on his beard in the light from the parking lot outside.

“You think I don’t want you fucking my face?” He asked. “Fuck, baby, I want nothing more than for you to take exactly what you need. Want you to make yourself come on my face, you understand?”

You swallowed and nodded.

“What are you going to do?” He asked, voice almost stern.

“Make myself come on your face?” You more asked than answered.

“Better sound more sure than that,” he said, fingers moving to your clit. You gasped and moaned at the contact. “Come on baby, what are you going to do? Say it. Own it.”

“Come on your face,” you panted. “Fuck, Joel… I’m going to come on your face, I’m going to make myself come on your face, please…”

“Good,” he said, going back to eating your pussy.

It was like he’d been holding back before but had nothing stopping him now. His tongue pressed deep, his nose nestled in your slit to nudge your clit, his arms looped over the thickness of your thighs to keep you open for him while also pressing the softness of you to the sides of his head. Your orgasm built quickly, the heat in you sinking to your core, everything inside you there going taut and tense. You were just on the edge of it, whimpering below his tongue and his touch when one hand left the warmth of your thigh and moved to your slit, his finger sliding inside you alongside his tongue. He pressed into the soft, tender place inside you that seemed to elude other men, finding it with an almost practiced ease and moaning when he did, sending the sparks of your climax shooting through you.

He groaned, needy, as he ate you through it, not letting up, not even for a second until your orgasm had subsided and your head was swimming.

“Fuck you feel amazing,” he pulled himself from you, sucking the finger that was inside you clean before wiping your slick from his beard while his other hand traced over the smooth softness of your inner thigh. “Should’ve asked this sooner but… please tell me you’ve got a damn condom. I wasn’t exactly lookin’ for this tonight, not until I saw you, so I’m not exactly prepared.”

“I do,” you propped yourself up on your elbows, trying to remember where the hell you left your suitcase in the dark. You spotted it on the dresser, thankfully still mostly organized since you’d arrived that afternoon. You nodded to it. “Suitcase, top zipper pouch inside the lid.”

He got one, the crinkle of foil strangely loud in the silence of the room.

“Here,” you sat up and reached for him as he came to stand between your legs at the edge of the bed. “Let me do it…”

He gave you the packet and you opened it before palming the condom, holding it tight in one hand while slipping the other into the open zipper of his jeans and into his underwear to find his thick, heavy cock.

You moaned as you wrapped your fingers around his length, hard as steel wrapped in silken skin, and you stroked him, just half way up his cock at first before going from root to tip. He was dripping there, his arousal making his head slick and wet. You brushed your thumb over his leaking tip, the smooth skin making your mouth water. You looked up at him through your eyelashes as you leaned forward to lick him before taking just the very end of his cock between your lips. You suckled at him gently, lapping up his precome, Joel’s breaths getting heavier and faster as you did, before you took him into your mouth. He moaned as you sucked him, his hand going to the back of your head and holding you against him, your nose brushing against the base of his stomach. You took his head into your throat and moaned around him as you sucked him, making him hiss in pleasure, his grip on your skull tightening.

“Fuck, woman,” he managed as you kept sucking him. “Gonna make me come if you keep doin’ that…”

You pulled back from him slowly, his hold on you easing as you did, until he slipped from your mouth, still slick with your spit.

“Should probably stop then,” you said, a little breathless. You took the condom - warm now from the heat of your hand - and put it over his head before rolling it over his thick shaft. You stroked him once, twice and leaned forward again, sucking his tip for a moment when it was in place and his head tipped back, staring at the ceiling as he groaned.

“Jesus,” he panted. “Fuck, you gonna let me inside that soft little pussy of yours or make me come in your mouth?”

You laughed once, needy and low, before pulling yourself backwards on the bed, Joel’s eyes hungry on your body as you went. He shucked his jeans and underwear off before crawling, finally naked, between your thighs. His head brushed against your sex and he took the base of his cock in his hand, trailing his tip up and down your dripping slit before spreading you open for him, your pussy swollen and tender as he did. He put his tip against your dripping entrance, pressed just the very end of him inside, barely opening you to him. His hands moved to your thighs, brushing over them to your knees before trailing back toward your center, his fingers splayed wide over you soft flesh.

“You ready, baby?” He asked, needy.

“Yes,” you breathed. You’d passed ready a long time ago. You were desperate now, aching and all but begging for him to take up every empty space inside your body.

“Good,” he pressed forward until his head was fully inside your tight channel and you both moaned with it, one of your hands finding the smooth skin of your breast and squeezing it. He groaned at the sight as he started fucking just the tip of him into you, rocking in and out of you in short, sharp bursts. “Fuck, there you go baby. Just like that.”

He started feeding you more of his cock then, driving further into you with each stroke until he fucked all the way into you, his hips flush to yours, his thick length stretching you open, the burn of him meshing with the heady pleasure of being so utterly full.

“Goddamn,” he breathed, his cock buried inside you totally. “This pussy… fuck me.”

One of his hands went from your thigh to over your hip coming to rest and the soft swell of the base of your stomach. He spread wide over your skin, his palm swallowing the space over where he was inside of you and pressing down, making you moan as the tight fullness inside you got more intense. His thumb stretched down toward your clit and he started working you there as he just held himself within you, making your cunt throb once around him. He groaned at the feeling.

“That’s right,” he said. “So full of this cock ain’t you baby? Taking me so damn well…”

He kept working your clit for a minute, not moving inside you, just pressing into your skin until you were practically writhing below his touch. He was so big, you were so full, the pleasure in your body so tight. It made your head spin.

“Joel,” your fingers scratched at the blankets. “I need you to move, please, please, please…”

“Please what, pretty girl?” His voice was dark, low.

“Please fuck me,” you begged. “Please, please fuck me, please…”

He drew back then, achingly slow at first, watching where his cock was pressing into you with a hungry look on his face, before thrusting back in, deep and firm.

This, you thought, was why you liked fucking older men. Joel knew what he was doing. He worked your body with expert skill, grinding his cock deep inside so his head pressed against the most sensitive parts of you, the thick drag of him making your back arch and toes curl. He kept rubbing your clit with his thumb, the pressure and pace keeping your pleasure building and building but never quite cascading over the edge.

He kept fucking into you that way until you were desperate, your whole being drawn tight and achy around his cock. He’d stopped watching where your bodies were joined and had moved to your face, his gaze drinking in your desperate little moans and the way your eyes would scrunch closed as you got so close to coming but didn’t quite make it, whimpering as your climax fell just out of reach yet again.

“Got you so tight and needy, hm?” He said, breathless. You just nodded, trying to rock your hips up against him but held in place by his hand on your stomach. “Why don’t you tell me what you need? Tell me exactly what it is you need.”

“To come,” you whimpered. “Fuck, I need to come, you need to let me come, please let me come…”

“Think I’ve been keepin’ you on the edge too long?” He asked. “Think I should let this little pussy come? Let her just milk me dry?”

“Fuck, please,” you begged, not caring if you sounded pathetic. It’s not like you’d see this man again after tonight, anyway.

He took his thumb off your clit but before you had a chance to whimper in protest, he adjusted your legs to drive somehow deeper and leaned over you, pressing his bare skin to yours before kissing your neck, sucking and licking at the tender skin there as he fucked into you, making you whimper, your nails scrabbling over his back. His lips moved from your neck to your ear, his large hand coming to cup the crown of your head, his pace never relenting.

“Come for me,” he whispered, low and needy. “You can come, want you to come, want to feel you come. Just let go for me, just give in to me.”

His hips rocked against your clit, his cock buried so deep and you saw stars for a moment before you cried out, your orgasm hitting you hard after being on the edge of it for so long. It broke your whole body down, muscle clenching desperately, blood rushing, fingers clinging. You felt it everywhere, starting at your core and radiating out in hot, aching waves.

“Goddamn, that’s it,” he fucked you through it as your core fluttered over him. “Just keep comin’ for me, just like that, feeling so damn good baby just…”

He pressed deep as your orgasm started to fade and moaned, the sound going straight to your raw, fucked out cunt. The pulsing of his cock, in you to the root, rolled you into another orgasm, this one less intense but still making your pussy grip him close and tight as he spilled into the condom.

He collapsed on you for a moment as both of your climaxes eased, his chest heaving. Before his weight became too much, he adjusted, rising up enough to kiss you as he slid his softening cock from your body and falling flat on his back on the bed beside you.

“Damn,” you panted after a moment, staring up at the ceiling.

He laughed lightly beside you.

“Know the feelin’.”

You lay there next to each other, listening to each other as your breaths came back into a normal, steady cadence. Goosebumps started to pebble over your skin, the air cold as you were naked without his body on yours, the air conditioner below the window humming along.

You turned your head to look at him and he did the same.

“Should probably go…” his voice trailed off but he sounded reluctant. Or maybe you just hoped he did.

“You don’t have to,” you said, probably a little too quickly for a man you’d just met. Even in the dim light of the moon and the parking lot lights out your window, you could tell he raised his eyebrows. “I’m just… you can stay, if you want. It’s a big bed. Think we can manage it.”

“Wouldn’t want to impose…”

“You’re not,” you said. “You can leave, too, if you’d rather but… don’t feel like you have to rush out.”

He smiled a little.

“Then I’ll stay. I’d like to stay.”

You smiled back, that blissed out and relaxed feeling you had after you came settling over you.

“Good.”

The two of you settled far across the bed from each other at first but drifted quickly, until your head was on his chest and you were curved around his side as his arm wrapped around your shoulders, his fingers trailing up and down your arm until you fell asleep.

He was somehow even more beautiful in the light of day.

You realized it as the two of you went about the strange intimacy of getting ready for the day side by side with someone you didn’t know. He blinked sleep from his eyes when first woke up and stretched his back before getting out of bed, his curls haphazard and messy and his body soft and warm. He got dressed and ran his fingers through his hair, trying to tame it. You offered him your travel toothbrush as you got dressed and he watched you pull on your jeans as he leaned against the bathroom doorframe.

“Been a while since I’ve done this,” he said, a little hesitant.

“Just how long?” You asked, teasing as you pulled on your shirt.

“Longer than I want to admit,” he said, small smile making his cheek dimple. “Long enough that I don’t remember exactly how this is supposed to work but… I’d like to take you to breakfast. If you want.”

You smiled.

“Sure,” you said. “I’d like that.”

Joel walked back to the bar and picked up his truck before taking you to a diner not too far from your hotel. You laughed with him about menu typos and the questionable song choices coming from the speakers over greasy eggs and toast soaked in butter.

“Know we just met,” he said as you were on your fourth cup of coffee and you were both avoiding the fact that you’d have to leave this table and go your separate ways soon. The remains of your hashbrowns had long gone cold, ketchup smeared across the plate and you weren’t ready to say goodbye to him yet. “And that you’re in town for some family thing but… if you’re not busy tonight, would you want to come with me to this party? Buddy of mine is throwin’ in, supposed to be nice. Think he gave me a plus one in hopes I’d actually use it.”

“Damn,” you winced a bit. “I really wish I could but the thing I’m in town for is tonight.”

“Damn’s right,” he smiled a little. “Think you’d be my best shot for a good time at that thing.”

“Yeah, back at you for my thing,” you laughed.

“Here,” he pulled his phone from his pocket and unlocked it before handing it over. “Put your number in. Maybe we could still get together later…”

You took it but hesitated, thumb tapping on the side of his phone case.

He frowned.

“What?”

“I live hours away,” you said. “Is this really smart?”

He shrugged.

“Don’t really care if it’s smart or not. Just want to see you again. If you’ll let me.”

You smiled a little and shook your head before putting your number in his phone.

“There,” you said, handing it back over. “Let me know when you’re done with your thing. I can think of a few more ways to get some good use out of my hotel room.”

Two more cups of coffee later, Joel dropped you off at your hotel. You kissed him goodbye in the cabin of his truck, moaning against his mouth before pulling away.

“Alright, go before I come back in with you,” he said playfully, reaching across you to open your door.

You laughed.

“Don’t tempt me,” you got out and paused before closing your door, taking one last chance to look him over. “If we don’t see each other again… It was good meeting you.”

“Good meeting you, too,” he said. “But don’t worry. I’ll see you again.”

You went inside, looking back over your shoulder once you were in the lobby, Joel’s truck still sitting near the doors as he waited to make sure you were safely inside.

There was an odd sense of loss in you as you got ready for your parents’ big anniversary party. You hadn’t expected to meet anyone when on your trip back to your hometown, let alone someone you liked so much. You’d been single for a while, doing things alone didn’t really bother you. But now, you felt this tug of desire to have him getting ready beside you where you could help him with his tie and he could zip you into your dress.

But that was stupid. You knew it was stupid. Your job had taken you to Memphis and you liked it there. You weren’t in a rush to move back to your hometown. And Joel had a business here. It wasn’t going to happen. It’d be a lot easier in the long run if you just accepted that now.

You showed up early to the party, your older sister wanting help to get things set up in the tents outside.

“Who all is coming to this shindig anyway?” You asked as you put pictures of your parents out around a guest book near the entrance of the tent.

“Oh, you know,” your sister waved you off.

“Not really,” you said. She gave you a look. “What! I haven’t been home for a family party in… well, it’s been a minute.”

“Yeah, and I’ve been the one doing all the work to help with those for a while,” she said.

“And you’re definitely not bitter about that…”

“Not one bit,” she teased. “But the usual people. The closest neighbors, the aunts and uncles, Mom’s book club, church people, Dad’s friends…”

“Dad has friends?” You gaped at her. “Since when?”

“He’s had friends for years!”

“OK, he’s never had friends,” you said. “Where is he finding friends? Shit’s unnatural…”

“Don’t let them catch you saying shit,” she said. “And there are a few from work, one from this basketball league he joined…”

“Ew,” you crinkled your nose. Your sister laughed.

“Definitely not ew,” she said. “At least not the basketball friend one, he’s weirdly hot, it’s disturbing…”

“Well, there’s no accounting for taste, is there?” You teased.

“You’ll eat those words when you meet the guy,” she said. “Just wait.”

“Whatever you say,” you rolled your eyes, skeptical. You and your sister had never had the same taste in men, you didn’t see any reason for that to have changed.

But still, you were keeping an eye out for this mysterious hot friend of your father’s as people started to arrive for the party. Or trying to, anyway. You kept getting pulled away by distant relatives you hadn’t seen since your cousin’s wedding or to do a favor for your mom as she frantically rushed around trying to take care of everyone while also trying to have fun at the party that was being thrown in her honor.

Everything was in full swing when you heard your father call your name from across the large, increasingly full tent. He waved you over, leaning around a man he was talking to, and you worked your way around the dance floor, trying not to think about how much you’d like to have a date at this damn thing - how much you’d like to have Joel as your date at this damn thing - when you froze beside your dad. The man standing next to him was devastatingly familiar, even from behind. Tallest man in the room, broad shoulders, thick curls. Your heart beat faster.

“Hey honey,” your dad said, tugging you closer. “Want you to meet my friend. Joel, this is my youngest that I’ve told you so much about.”

He turned around, a beer bottle in his hand a smile on his face that fell the moment he saw you. Your dad was saying something else but you didn’t hear it, too busy staring at the man who had been inside you less than 24 hours earlier.

The man who had you thinking about what life alongside another person would be like.

The man who was apparently your father’s friend.

“Hi,” he said after your dad had stopped talking. You hadn’t noticed.

“Hi,” you said, still staring at him.

Fuck, you were in trouble.

A/N: Here's whatever this is. He's unhinged, I don't know what's happening to the Joels who live in my head lately but they're just going crazy up there. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it! Love you!

#fanfic #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x oc #smut fic #dbf!joel x reader

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