#Thank you….I am going to think about this for awhile

[girlokwhatever]

Emily engstler x passenger princess!reader go on a road trip

can be one shot/headcannon

emily engstler x passenger princess!gf hcs

˚ · .·˚ ༘*ೃ༄ʬ꩜ emily engstler and passenger princess gf on a roadtrip,,

— it’s……. so chaotic

— she’s trying to body slam all of your bags into the trunk while you sit and watch

- you always ask if she wants help but she says no.

— once the two of you finally get on the road she’s a little more relaxed

— her hand is immediately on some part of your body

- hand, shoulder, back of your neck, thighs, anywhere she can reach tbh

— you guys listen to sapphic music together!!

- she’s always giving you the aux 🤗

— if the roadtrip is late at night she gets really sappy for some reason

- always giving some love-drunk confession

- “i can’t wait to marry you.”

- “i always felt like green was your color baby.”

- “i love it when you hum.”

— “can i have a kiss?”

- “but you’re driving?”

- “doesn’t matter.”

— she ALWAYS insists on driving

— she also always tries to pack you snacks for the road and a blanket so you can be cozy

— “oh my god that fast food is making my car stink so bad.”

- “no im pretty sure that’s your attitude stinking it up in here.”

— you need to use the bathroom every hour…..

— windows down on summer days >>>>

— “you look so pretty right now.”

— if you brought a book to read she’ll ask if you can read it out loud

— “i’m so hungry i’m gonna eat you emily.”

- “i wouldn’t mind.”

— “baby don’t put your feet on the dash, that’s dangerous.”

— even though she packs you snacks you always end up getting something at the gas station or some fast food restaurant

— you always get out of the car with her at the gas station because you just want to hold and kiss her

- it’s been awhile and you miss her

— “can i get a chip please?”

- you feed it to her 🤗

— you guys play stupid games together to help the time pass

- “ok.. lemme think. oh! ok ok i got one. she’s a ten buuuuttttt she never brushes her teeth.”

- “ew what?! gross. zero. she’s a zero.”

— you’re always taking scenic photos

— sometimes you like to video the roadtrip just for cute memories

— “babe there’s something in the road..”

- “OH SHIT”

- “OH MY GOD OH MY FUCK! DONT SWERVE LIKE THAT EM.”

— “i forgot my water so im gonna drink some of yours.”

— she tries to keep you awake as long as possible but you falling asleep is just inevitable

- will talk your ear off anyway

— emily likes to take pictures of you when you fall asleep

- when she show you said pictures you get mad because,

- “why are you on your phone if you’re driving.”

— “you look really cozy over there…”

- “i am. thanks for noticing.”

- gives you the most diabolical side-eye

— lets not talk about that time you teased her though……. iykyk

— she likes holding your hand and kissing your knuckles

- says it helps her focus

— you like holding her hand and playing with her fingers or tracing her tattoos

— “are we almost there?!”

— you always wear fluffy socks 🤗🤗🤗

— you guys always scream song lyrics together LMAO

— “that sign says tennessee but babe.. you’re the only ten i see.”

- “please never speak again.”

— you always lean the seat all the way back

- it pisses emily off LOL

— “babe i think you need to put your shoes back on.. somethings stinks..”

-……….

- “OW! babe i was just joking.”

˚ · .·˚ ༘*ೃ༄ʬ꩜

enjoy!!!

i had to make this twice cause i accidentally swiped out right as i finished it…….. 👹

[hookhausenschips]

Under The Skies Above

500 Follower Special!!!

Navigation

Summary: Logan and Y/N are ready to embark on a new chapter in their relationship when an unfortunate event hits them.

Taglist

Warnings: miscarriage, anxiety, depression, self doubt.

A/N: I am so sorry for not posting for awhile, a lot of things have been happening behind the scenes in my personal life and I just needed to take a step back. I plan to finish this 500 Special over the next few weeks, please be patient with me. Thank you for the love and support!

------------------------------------------------------

Y/N's POV

The anticipation leading up to my visit with Logan in Singapore was palpable, a mixture of excitement and longing that set my heart racing. Our relationship had weathered storms and soared to dizzying heights, each moment filled with an intensity that left us breathless. As I stepped off the plane and into the vibrant chaos of Singapore, I was greeted by Logan's warm embrace, his smile a beacon of love in the bustling airport.

Together, we explored the city's winding streets, immersing ourselves in its rich tapestry of cultures and traditions. From savoring mouthwatering street food at hawker centers to marveling at the futuristic skyline against the backdrop of a fiery sunset, every moment was an adventure shared with the person who made my world brighter.

Little did we know, our journey was about to take an unexpected turn, one that would test the very foundation of our love and resilience. But for now, in the glow of Singapore's neon lights and the warmth of Logan's embrace, all was right with the world.

It was a quiet morning in our hotel room, the sun filtering through the curtains in gentle rays of light, casting a warm glow over everything it touched. I awoke with a sense of restlessness stirring within me, an inexplicable feeling that something was different. As I lay there, lost in the hazy transition between sleep and wakefulness, a sudden wave of nausea washed over me, causing me to bolt upright in bed.

Logan stirred beside me, his brow furrowing in concern as he reached out to brush a strand of hair from my face. "Are you alright?" he murmured, his voice thick with sleep.

I managed a weak smile, attempting to push aside the gnawing sensation of unease that had settled in the pit of my stomach. "I think so," I replied, though my words lacked conviction.

But deep down, I knew something had shifted. With trembling hands, I reached for my phone and quickly searched for the nearest pharmacy. Minutes later, I found myself standing in the fluorescent-lit aisle, my heart pounding in my chest as I selected a pregnancy test from the shelf.

Back in the privacy of our hotel bathroom, I followed the instructions with painstaking precision, my hands shaking as I waited for the results to appear. Seconds stretched into minutes, each tick of the clock echoing in the silence of the room until finally, two pink lines materialized on the test strip before me.

A wave of emotion washed over me, leaving me breathless with wonder as I stared down at the small plastic device in my hands. Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes as the reality of what I held in my grasp sunk in. I was going to be a mother.

Heart pounding with a mixture of excitement and trepidation, I emerged from the bathroom to find Logan waiting anxiously in the living room. Without a word, I held out the test, my voice barely a whisper as I choked out the words, "We're going to be parents."

The look of incredulous joy that spread across Logan's face in that moment was something I would never forget. He enveloped me in a tight embrace, his laughter mingling with my tears as we danced around the room in a joyous celebration of the life growing inside me. From that moment on, our days were filled with a sense of wonder and anticipation, each passing moment bringing us closer to the realization of our dreams.

The days following the revelation of my pregnancy were a whirlwind of excitement and anticipation. Logan and I poured over baby name books, our fingers tracing the pages as we imagined the sound of our child's laughter filling our home. We spent lazy afternoons strolling hand in hand through Singapore's lush gardens, lost in whispered conversations about the kind of parents we hoped to be.

Amidst the excitement of the Grand Prix weekend, a whisper of anticipation danced between us, hinting at a momentous secret waiting to be unveiled. It was amidst this backdrop of adrenaline and exhilaration that I discovered I was pregnant. The revelation washed over us like a wave, filling the air with a sense of wonder and joy that was almost tangible.

Underneath the canopy of stars that adorned the Singaporean sky, Logan and I celebrated the news with unrestrained jubilation. We whispered dreams of parenthood into the night, our laughter mingling with the symphony of the city below. In that moment, the future seemed boundless, filled with infinite possibilities and the promise of a love that knew no bounds.

As we approached the second trimester of my pregnancy, a sense of unease began to gnaw at the edges of my consciousness. It started with subtle twinges of discomfort, innocent enough to dismiss as the usual aches and pains of pregnancy. But as the days wore on, those twinges grew into persistent cramps, each one sending a ripple of fear coursing through my veins.

One fateful evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon and the city skyline glittered with the promise of night, the discomfort escalated into something more sinister. A sharp, stabbing pain tore through my abdomen, leaving me doubled over in agony. Logan's frantic voice pierced through the haze of pain, his hands trembling as he dialed for help.

Minutes stretched into eternity as we waited for the ambulance to arrive, each second dragging us further into the depths of despair. When the paramedics finally burst through the door, their urgent movements and somber expressions confirmed our worst fears.

Rushed to the hospital in a blur of flashing lights and frantic prayers, Logan's hand never left mine, a lifeline in the storm of uncertainty that raged around us. In the cold, sterile confines of the emergency room, we clung to each other, our hearts pounding in unison as we awaited news of our unborn child's fate.

The words that shattered our world came in a hushed whisper, delivered with a tenderness that offered little solace in the face of such devastating loss. Miscarriage. The very sound of the word sent shockwaves of disbelief rippling through me, leaving me numb with grief.

In that moment, time stood still as the weight of our loss settled like a heavy cloak upon our shoulders. All around us, the world continued to spin, oblivious to the shattered dreams and broken hearts that lay in its wake.

As we lay in the dimly lit hospital room, tears mingling with the sterile scent of antiseptic, Logan and I clung to each other with a desperation born of grief. The future we had envisioned together lay in ruins, our hopes and dreams dashed against the jagged rocks of reality.

But amidst the wreckage of our shattered dreams, a flicker of hope remained. For as long as we had each other, we would find a way to weather the storm. And though the road ahead would be fraught with pain and uncertainty, we would face it together, hand in hand, our love a beacon of light in the darkness.

In the aftermath of our devastating loss, Logan and I found ourselves adrift in a sea of grief, struggling to navigate the turbulent waters of sorrow and despair. Each day dawned with a heaviness that settled over us like a suffocating blanket, making even the simplest tasks feel like insurmountable obstacles.

Together, we retreated into the cocoon of our shared sorrow, seeking solace in the warmth of each other's embrace. We spent long hours nestled together on the couch, our tears mingling as we whispered words of love and consolation into the darkness. In those moments of raw vulnerability, our bond grew stronger, a lifeline in the stormy sea of grief that threatened to engulf us.

But even amidst the darkness, there were moments of light. Friends and family rallied around us, their unwavering support a beacon of hope in our darkest hour. They brought meals and offered words of comfort, their presence a reminder that we were not alone in our sorrow.

Together, we navigated the painful process of telling our loved ones about the miscarriage, each conversation reopening the wound that lay raw and bleeding within us. But with each shared tear and heartfelt embrace, we found a measure of healing, a glimmer of light in the darkness that surrounded us.

In the quiet moments of solitude, I found solace in writing, pouring my heartache onto the page in a desperate attempt to make sense of the senseless. Logan, ever the rock upon which I leaned, found solace in music, his fingers coaxing melodies from the keys of his piano in a hauntingly beautiful symphony of grief and longing.

As the days turned into weeks, and the weeks into months, the sharp edges of our pain began to soften, dulled by the passage of time and the gentle balm of love. Though the ache of our loss would never fully fade, we found comfort in the knowledge that we were not defined by our sorrow, but rather by the depth of our love for each other.

Together, we forged a path forward, hand in hand, our footsteps guided by the echoes of the child we would never know. And though the road ahead was uncertain, we faced it with courage and resilience, knowing that as long as we had each other, we could weather any storm that came our way.

As the days stretched into weeks and the rawness of our grief began to soften, Logan and I embarked on a journey of healing, each step a tentative yet determined stride towards a future tinged with both sorrow and hope.

In the quiet moments of solitude, we sought refuge in the memories of our unborn child, tracing the contours of their existence in the whispered echoes of what might have been. Together, we planted a garden of dreams in their honor, each flower a testament to the love that had blossomed within us, if only for a fleeting moment.

In the gentle embrace of the morning sun, we found solace in the warmth of each other's touch, the tender caress of fingers intertwined a silent promise of love and resilience. Though the ache of our loss lingered like a phantom limb, we refused to let it define us, choosing instead to honor the memory of our child with each beat of our hearts.

As the seasons shifted and the world around us bloomed with the promise of new beginnings, Logan and I found renewed strength in the simple pleasures of life. We danced beneath the stars, our laughter mingling with the melody of the night, our spirits buoyed by the knowledge that love was a beacon in the darkest of nights.

Slowly but surely, we began to rebuild the shattered fragments of our lives, piece by painstaking piece. We painted the nursery with colors as vibrant as our dreams, each stroke of the brush a testament to the resilience of the human spirit. And though the crib remained empty, its pristine surface a stark reminder of the void that would never be filled, we found comfort in the knowledge that our love would endure, transcending the boundaries of time and space.

In the gentle embrace of the evening breeze, we whispered words of affirmation and hope, our voices a symphony of love and longing that echoed across the vast expanse of the universe. And as we gazed up at the stars, their twinkling lights a reminder of the infinite possibilities that lay ahead, we knew that no matter what trials awaited us on the road ahead, we would face them together, hand in hand, our love a beacon of light in the darkness.

And so, as we turned our faces towards the horizon, our hearts brimming with hope and the promise of a brighter tomorrow, we knew that though our journey had been fraught with pain and sorrow, it had also been filled with moments of unimaginable beauty and grace. And as we stepped forward into the unknown, we did so with a renewed sense of purpose, knowing that as long as we had each other, we could weather any storm that came our way.

Our journey through joy, tragedy, and healing had etched its indelible mark upon our souls, shaping us in ways we could never have imagined. As we stood on the threshold of a new chapter, the weight of our shared experiences hung heavy in the air, a tangible reminder of the resilience of the human spirit.

Though the pain of our loss still lingered, softened but never forgotten, we found solace in the knowledge that our love had endured, a steadfast beacon in the stormy sea of grief. With each passing day, we grew stronger, our bond fortified by the trials we had faced together.

As we looked back on the road we had traveled, we marveled at the strength we had found within ourselves, the depths of our love illuminated by the shadows of sorrow that had once threatened to consume us. And though the scars of our past remained, they served as a testament to the power of love to transcend even the darkest of nights.

In the quiet moments of reflection, we found peace in the knowledge that our journey was far from over, that the tapestry of our lives still held countless threads waiting to be woven into the fabric of our shared destiny. And as we gazed towards the horizon, our hearts brimming with hope and the promise of a brighter tomorrow, we knew that no matter what trials awaited us on the road ahead, we would face them together, hand in hand, our love a beacon of light in the darkness.

And so, with heads held high and hearts full of gratitude, we stepped forward into the unknown, our footsteps echoing in the silence of the night, our souls forever intertwined in the tapestry of love that bound us together. And as the world around us faded into darkness, we embraced the promise of a new dawn, knowing that as long as we had each other, we could weather any storm that came our way.

===================================

LS2 Taglist: @leclercdior, @tallrock35, @yourbane, @lightdragonrayne, @evie-119, @ilivbullyingjeongin, @oliviah-25

F1 Taglist: @hiireadstuff, @really-fucking-tired, @donteventry-itdude, @spookystitchery

[chukys-mouthguard]

8. “What are you wearing right now?” w/ Trevor Zegras

I love your work!!!

Prompt: “What are you wearing right now?”

Note: i actually got so excited to write this because i recently have watched a few videos with Trevor and his personality cracks me up, so i tried channeling it as best i could since im still not super familiar with him 😅🤞🏼thank you so much for the kind words, hopefully you love this as well!

“I am desperate for this road trip to end, ohhh my gosh.”

Trevor playfully groaned as you heard him unlocking the door to his hotel room, laughing as you rolled over in bed to plug your phone in after placing the call on speaker.

“So you can get home to see me right?”

You joked as you bit your lip, Trevor agreeing as he set his wallet on the table before plopping down on the bed. “Well of course! That’s actually the only thing getting me through this road trip. I keep dreaming about your world famous pancakes, oh baby I can’t wait to get some of those when I get home.”

“Trev, you’re the only person who has ever eaten my pancakes, not sure they are world famous.”

He laughed as he protested, “Not true, I travel the world and tell people, so they are most definitely world famous.” “If you wanna count Canada and the United States as the world, then it sounds good to me babe.”

The two of you sighed, almost in unison, as you both lay in bed staring at the ceiling. This road trip had been one of the longest Trevor had been on in awhile, and you were definitely missing him. In more ways than one.

The bed felt colder, bigger, without him sleeping next to you. The dinner table was more lonely. Watching your favorite shared trashy reality tv definitely wasn’t the same. Though you two would check in after episodes to debrief and be sure you both stayed up to date on things.

As you laid in bed thinking of Trevor, one of his tshirts covering your body, engulfing you in the smell of his cologne. You were tempted to see how much fun you could have with him.

“Hey Trev?”

“Hmm?”

He hummed a response as he laid in bed with his eyes closed, enjoying the sound of your voice as he intently listened.

“What are you wearing right now?”

His eyes shot open at your words, not expecting that to come out of your mouth in a million years. “Uhhhhhh, ummm.”

You slightly smirked at how flustered he’d become, though you weren’t entirely surprised. This wasn’t something you’d ever tried with him before.

“See, there’s a really funny story about what I’ve got on. But, I just, I don’t know if I can confess to it right now.”

Rolling onto your side you stared at your phone confused, wondering what the hell your boyfriend had on. “Yeah no you’re definitely gonna have to explain because what?”

The two of you were laughing as Trevor was growing red with embarrassment. “Okay, fine. So..John thought it would be a great idea for us to do one of those t-shirt exchange things for our team dinner tonight. And, god mine is awful! I don’t even know if I can tell you babe.”

The idea of John Gibson coordinating a t-shirt exchange for the team dinner had you practically in tears. It was nothing surprising from this group of guys, but you could only imagine some of the shirts they’d bought for each other.

Trevor continued on, telling you some of the shirts the other guys were stuck wearing, but the ping of a new text distracted you as you opened up a message from the culprit John Gibson himself.

The text was simply a photo of Trevor smiling, with two thumbs up in his t-shirt that read “Appreciate the little things” with an arrow pointing down at his crotch.

“Oh my god, well, John beat you to it and told me himself.”

Trevor couldn’t hold in his laughter as he heard you cackling into your pillow.

“It’s so bad! Like I had one of the worst shirts tonight, imagine how embarrassing that was to wear out!”

He groaned as you were finally reeling in your amusement.

“Maybe they are just jealous, or they didn’t want people to know what you’ve really got going on down there, so it was like a fake out.”

“Who freaking knows, but I think I need to burn this shirt. And the pictures, gotta burn the pictures.”

“Well, it looks like Caufield got his hands on it, so I’m not sure your efforts will be worth anything.”

Trevor cursed to himself at the thought of his best friend having the photo. Knowing instantly that it would be sent out in every group chat and plastered everywhere for anyone to see.

“Well, it was nice knowing you. Because if Caufield has that photo I am officially retiring and entering the witness protection program.”

“Trevor, don't be so dramatic! I’m sure it’s all gonna be fine.”

Another groan escaped his lips as you assumed he’d gotten a text or someone had posted a picture of him, not bothering to ask as to not make him feel any worse than he already did. Just letting him continue being a little dramatic, promising him world famous pancakes when he got home to try and lift his spirits.

[medicalunprofessional]

juggalo nemesis (…evil augustus) and horror punk butcher. Very important i think

[wundrousarts]

Mini Silverborn Countdown

If you’ve been around for a few years, you’ve seen me vaguely mention a “Silverborn Countdown Challenge” several times. It’s been delayed and changed as many times as the book itself, lol.

If anyone wants sort of a low-stakes, very chill and spaced out version of this ye olde never tackled challenge to complete in the next year before Silverborn, I propose what I’m doing:

Every 3 months leading up to the initial release, I am creating one thing based on each of the books.

January — Nevermoor

April — Wundersmith

July — Hollowpox

[ichorblossoms]

I WOULD LIKE TO ASK QUESTION ABOUT OCS IN FACT 🤲 how was meeting yarrow for the first time like for grimm? and reverse? i love them and how tender they grow together so dearly

HELLO THANK YOU FOR THE ASK AND THANK YOU IN GENERAL EHEHEHEEEE they are eating at my brain all the time <3

OKAY so a vague timeline of honeybee's three main parts is here BUT there is a (not actually secret) part 0 that is how they first meet. i want to include it in the story but i'm concerned telling a story like this

might get a little confusing for people so. we shall see

i DO have my reasons for wanting to tell it this way and also p0 is a single scene. but also i might combine it with p1 idk. it's a mess, i'm a mess

anyways at this point grimm is ~18 and still pretty freshly out of their whole "i was a bodyguard/scout for the people who destroyed everything i loved for several years because i fell in love [was manipulated by] the family's young heiress when i was vulnerable and also a child"* ordeal and now making a living for themself being an outlaw. it travels from town to town and takes on odd jobs, mostly recon stuff because it's very good at sneaking around. also having a robot dog designed to jam signals and camera feeds helps

*this is A Lot. i know it sounds edgy as fuck, but a consistent source of conflict in this universe is how people in power (those with a lot of money in this case) consistently fuck over everyone else and each other for the sake of more power/a perceived advantage/money and grimm is a victim of that to a more extreme degree than most

grimm takes a job that involves getting some sort of intel out of the offices of a medical clinic and gets caught halfway through. they can fight too, so they do get out, but not before sustaining a pretty bad injury to their jaw (originally this was going to be a gunshot, but after doing research i realize that hm sustaining a gunshot wound to the jaw usually requires reconstructive surgery that grimm would not have access to, so i think they were hit with something instead). on their way sneak-stumbling out, they happen across one of the interns in the stairwell, who sees them injured and bleeding and goes "stay right there i'll get something to help you!" because shit, why else are they working at a clinic if they aren't going to help people who are hurt

normally grimm wouldn't stay, fuck that, but it's dazed and possibly concussed, so it does. yarrow (who is about ~19) comes back with some bandages and painkillers, quickly does a quick patch job, and sends grimm off with a "i'm sorry this is all i can do" and grimm gets the fuck out of there

now yarrow isn't stupid, he knew that grimm wasn't supposed to be there, but if he can help, he will help, especially if someone's in pain. grimm wasn't anyone meaningful to them at that point, and i think that whole ordeal is something that occasionally crosses their mind in the next ~3 years before they cross paths again, but there weren't any severe consequences to their actions (if any, still dunno if they got caught) nor was their life really under threat, so it wasn't any more shocking than someone coming in to the clinic with a severe injury

ON the flip side though, grimm cannot stop thinking about this. it has encountered so little kindness in the previous ~6 years of its life that a total stranger helping them out is inconceivable. now, grimm will save its own hide first and foremost, so it doesn't stick around, but this whole incident leaves it with a sense of being indebted to yarrow, whose name they don't even know at that point. nothing it would go out of its way to act upon, but this "i owe my life to that stranger" thing it marvels at from time to time.

so, when the two cross paths ~3 years later in a different clinic in a different city, grimm feels compelled to at least get yarrow out of there before shit goes down; they've graduated to working riskier jobs with teams of outlaws instead of alone, so it's very much a "you saved my life, i'll save yours back and get you out of here and we can part ways for good" situation. or, that's what grimm tells itself :)

bonus pt0 grimm and yarrow designs hehe

[crescentfool]

New Ryomina fic, Lizz!!

THREE WEEKS LATE TO THIS ASK BUT THANK U ANON!! honestly when i got this inbox i was like. tearing up. im like. "oh my god. people still think of me when they see ryomina. thank you so much. that means a lot to me. im so glad people want to share the joy of ryomina with me."

i assume that this is probably about "i alone await you," since the ask came around that time (two people possibly notifying me about this! crazy! this is positive. do not take that the wrong way), and i want to say that i've read it and am going to be insufferable about it for the forseeable future.

and if it is not about that fic than oops. give me clown makeup. i will happily put that on (my true form is that of a clown). i hope to read some more ryominas, it's been awhile since i've sat down to read the tag and. god. did you know? im so normal about them. anyways, thank you anon! 💛💙

[rosicheeks]

🙃

[blujayonthewing]

shoutout to this person liking all of my juniper and/or fengling art like it's their job??

[gonzodangerfeels]

A rainbow lollipop reminds me of that old Perkins offshoot Kissin' Cuzzins.

I can remember the big cases all the sweets were in...did I run into someone?

Like, personally I could never sit there and eat tons of sugar. Girls are a different story to me though.

[gojos-thot-patrol]

I got an ask for a Bully Sukuna x Reader, and while I AM ACTIVELY WORKING ON IT its got me thinking so many thoughtsssss.

I'm thinking about Bully! Sukuna, that made thirteen years of your life miserable. Who had a habit of alway pushing you around, and calling you thr cruelest names, and scaring away any potential romantic partner you had ever had.

Bully Sukuna that you started to develop reluctant feelings for at some point. Wires crossing in your brain and finding some version of control in pretending he covted you- not hated you. You imagined what the world would be like of he used his natural charisma and imposing figure for good rather than evil. If his strong arms protected you rather than hurt you.

Bully Sukuna, who you're unbelievably relieved to get away from after graduation, and absolutely devastated to find at college.

He corners you at a party, drunkenly eyeing you up. "You look good for once." His words are terrifying- because he's never said anything that nice to you before.

"Thanks." You grumble, trying to leave only for him to hold out an arm and stop you. He takes a second to finish off his drink before continuing.

"Where do you think you're going, loser?" He scoffs, haphazardly throwing his empty plastic cup behind him. Which- disrespectful- but you expect nothing less from him.

"Back to my dorm?" You mumbled sheepishly.

"Why? You should just come back to mine instead."

I'm thinking about Bully!Sukuna who always had a desperate crush on you. Who found your charming smile and dazzling eyes irresistible. Who only bullied you because he had no idea how else to get your attention- and bad attention was better than nothing.

Bully Sukuna who made your eyes water, just so he could imagine them later when he was fucking his hands. In his fantasy, they're tears of pleasure- not pain.

Okay, maybe a little bit of pain.

Bully Sukuna who's already drunk when you get to the party, filter long since discarded. Who with the social lubricant of alcohol in his veins actually finds it in him to openly thirst over you. A part of you hates it. A part of you loves it.

A part of you uses this revelation to finally take some control in this dynamic.

You're in his dorm, but you're on top of him. You're riding him for all he's worth, finally using his stupidly sculpted body for your pleasure. And he's crumbling under you, feeling the total bliss that being enveloped in you brings. Your chest fills with pride as he begs you to let him cum. Finally, you have some power here.

Bully Sukuna who won't stop texting you after your little rendezvous. Who wants so desperately to meet back up. And you, dear reader, who reads his texts and never responds. Who gets a little shot of serotonin when you remember the power is finally in your court. You meet up every once in awhile- enough to keep him addicted. But never enough to fully satisfy his need to be with you.

You're starting to wonder who's really the Bully here

[lanadelnegan]

Hi I’m kinda shy about this one. So the reader has been traveling with dead city cowboy Negan for awhile and she’s liked him for a long time but she’s a virgin and she wants him to take it.

Don't be shy bb, I am a slutttt for dead city Negan. Basically, think of this as if you were in Ginny's shoes, but you're 18.

Our Little Cabin

Dead City!Negan x Reader

Warnings: smut, 18+, NSFW, virgin reader, vaginal sex, fingering, family death (reader's mom), reader seduces the hell out of negan, extreme age-gap (reader is 18, negan is 50ish), masturbating (both), masturbating in front of Negan while he refuses to touch you, daddy-kink, breeding kink, cuddling, pure filth

A/n: If you like slow burn, sexual tension and a "hard to get" daddy Negan, this one is for you. I promise one day I'll finally write a fic without daddy-kink, but today is not that day.

"Can we go home now, Negan? My legs hurt." I complain, dragging my feet lazily through the leaves.

He stops and sighs, resting his hands on his hips. I stop too and stare at him. That damn cowboy hat.. I swear he wears it just to tease me.. and it's working.

"Yeah, doll. Sun'll be going down soon anyway."

"Ugh thank god." My head falls back dramatically and he chuckles as we start our way back.

Negan took me under his wing a few months ago when some assholes attacked Oceanside, killing my family and everyone I know. I was lucky - if you wanna call it that - enough to escape. I ran into Negan in the woods and it's just been me and him ever since. I'm thankful for him, considering I never had a dad or father figure growing up. My mom was my best friend.. and now she's gone. But at least I have him.

I've grown attached to Negan over the recent months.. But something feels.. different lately. I'm not sure what suddenly changed over the last few weeks, but I've caught myself imagining things about him that I shouldn't. Even touching myself to the thought of him. I feel so guilty afterwards, but I can't stop. I've never been with anyone.. never kissed anyone.. never touched anyone. And my body is screaming at me for it. I can't even look at him anymore without imagining what he looks like under his clothes.

"Why're you so quiet, kid?" He glances at me as we walk.

Ugh, I hate it when he calls me kid.

I shrug. "Just thinkin'."

"About?"

"Doesn't matter." And I've convinced myself it doesn't. I'll never be with someone romantically, because for one.. it's the apocalypse. It's not like I have a school full of hot boys lined up ready to ask me to prom. Not that I'd give them a chance anyway. I'd probably be more into the teachers. And second, the man I want would never think of me that way.

"That's not true."

"You don't even know what I'm thinking, so how can you say that?"

"Anything you think about - worry about - matters to me, y/n. So, spill."

We finally make it back to our little cabin. We've been staying in it for awhile, stocking it with food and supplies. No one has found us yet.. It's kinda nice. But I won't get used to it. Because nothing good lasts forever.

I throw myself on the couch dramatically, as if our walk that we've done a hundred times now could've killed me.

"I don't know... I just, I feel like most kids - people - my age have already experienced more in life that I have."

"Like?"

"Sex." I blurt before I can stop myself. I look to Negan to see his reaction, but he's surprisingly not that alarmed. His eyebrows are raised as he studies me, probably more shocked that I actually had the balls to say that in front of him.

"Listen, I don't really feel comfortable doing the whole birds and bees talk with you."

My cheeks turn pink with embarrassment and I nod disappointedly.

"Sorry, it's just.. I - no one's really talked to me about it before. My mom said she would when I was ready.. but then she.. she.." I fight back the tears. I hate crying. You can't come across weak in the times we live in and I've been forced to be strong my entire life.

He looks at me finally and sighs, holding his arm out for me to come snuggle next to him. It's not the first time he's held me as I've cried over my mom. Won't be the last.

I bury my head in his chest, sniffling, as his hand rubs my back.

"Alright, kid. What do you wanna know?" He gives in, feeling sorry for me.

"Well, I know how it works, but I guess I just wanna know what it feels like." I feel him tense underneath me as he adjusts himself awkwardly.

"No boyfriends at Oceanside?"

"There were boys.. but none that I was interested in."

"You'll find someone when the time is right. You're still young."

"Well you don't have anyone, and you're.. not young."

"Jeez, kid. Thanks." He chuckles. "I did have someone. A few someone's actually. Lost them all to this cruel world." He admits and my heart hurts for him.

"Well, you have me now." I get more comfortable, laying my head in his lap and looking up at him. He shifts uncomfortably but eventually relaxes and even strokes my hair lightly.

"Yeah, I do. And nothing is going to happen to you. You're safe with me, doll." Butterflies swirl around in stomach, but I know he doesn't mean that in the way I wish he did. He sees me as a kid.. hell, as his kid. For a moment my heart sinks from jealously at the "someones" he mentioned. Lucky bitches.

"...Negan.. does it.. feel good?" I blush a little.

"Sex? .....Yeah, doll. It fucking feels good."

"Will you.. show me?" I stare up at him innocently and his hand abruptly stops stroking my hair.

He bends over, planting a kiss on my forehead. "Time for bed, darlin'." He pushes me gently up and off his lap before standing and heading to his room. The cabin is small but we each have our own rooms. His is the smaller one, right across from mine. He wanted me to have the bigger one.

I sit on the couch, feeling defeated and stupid. What was I thinking. I relax on the couch for a little longer, choosing to read a book to take my mind off what just happened. After an hour of barely keeping my eyes open, I close the book and head down the hall towards my room. I stop in front of Negan's door, peaking through the crack. He always leaves his door a few inches open just so he can hear if anything happens. My eyes widen when I notice the sheets are barely covering the lower half of his legs, revealing the rest of his body. His tan torso is exposed, showing his peppery chest hair, and his black boxers are low on his waist. I restrain myself from not jumping him right then.

I eventually make my way back to my room and change out of my clothes, throwing on some shorts and a tank top to sleep in. I can't get the image of Negan's body out of my head and find my hand slowly making its way towards my aching center once I'm finally in bed. I close my eyes, imaging Negan between my legs as I touch myself. I don't bother suppressing my moans, confident that Negan is fully asleep. "Mmm, Negan!" The sound of his name rolling off my tongue as I'm pleasuring myself brings me closer to the edge.

"Oh, Negan. Right there!" My door suddenly swings open and I snap my eyes open to see a worried Negan standing in my doorway.. still in his boxers. My hand flies out of my shorts and I throw the sheets over me.

"Oh my god, can you knock?!"

"I - you yelled for me." He says flustered. I notice the way his face reddens when he realizes what I was doing.

I gently pull the covers off me again and spread my legs a little.

"What are you doing, y/n?" He stands in front of me at the doorway, refusing to look at anything other than my eyes. That's okay.. I bet I can make him look at me down there. I like the challenge.

"What's it look like?" My bite the tip of my finger seductively at him before sliding my shorts to the side, completely revealing my pussy to him.

He glances down with a serious look across his face, like he can't believe I'm doing this. And neither can I. This is so unlike me, but I'm so desperate for him I don't even know how to control myself anymore.

The fact that he's still watching encourages me to continue. I use one hand to pull my shorts to the side and the other to slowly slide a finger through my wet slit. "I just wanna know what it feels like, daddy."

I study him closely, noticing the way his jaw ticks at the nickname. My eyes travel lower and I see his bulge through his boxers. It looks so big, but I'd be determined to make it fit no matter what.

My finger dips inside of me and I arch my back a little and moan, putting on a show for him. He stands with his back against the wall, refusing to move.

I start rubbing my clit slowly and get frustrated when he still isn't reacting. "Negan, please touch me."

He rubs a hand down his face with frustration. "Goddamn it, y/n."

"I just.. I need you. Please." I cringe at my desperate attempt to have him touch me. I need this man so bad it's embarrassing.

"I can't, baby."

"But you like watching me, don't you?"

I take it as a yes when he doesn't say anything and that's all I need before pushing myself over the edge. "Negan!" I cry out as my orgasm rushes through me. Even in the dark, I can see the lust burning through his eyes.

"Go to bed, y/n." He demands but I'm unable to read his tone. Is he mad, proud, annoyed?

I fall asleep at the thought of him giving in and touching me. Maybe if I think hard enough, I'll manifest it.. I heard that shit really works.

Negan's POV:

That girl is gonna be the fucking death of me.

She's been so flirty with me lately and I've been trying to ignore it. But fuck if she's not making it hard. Literally.. I'm hard as a fucking rock right now.

I refuse to touch my dick while thinking about her. She's thirty-fucking-three years younger than me for fuck's sake.

She's confused. She doesn't want me, and she damn sure isn't getting me. Apocalypse or not, it's still fucking wrong.

I drag a hand down my face and sigh. I shouldn't have watched her, but I couldn't look away. She flashed her fucking pussy right in my face and I just stood there.. watching her. Fuck me.

My dick is throbbing and I know I won't be able to sleep until I get some relief. "Fuck it."

I pull myself out of my boxers and immediately start stroking my dick. I think about anything but.. her. Fuck.. y/n. That pretty little wet pussy dripping right in front of me. The way she said my name when she came.

"Ahh, fuuuck. Y/n, fuck." I cum hard and fast and immediately regret it afterwards. Fuck is wrong with me.

I can't - and I won't let myself think about her like that again.

Y/n's POV:

I wake up before Negan and decide to read my book some more in the living room. It's a romance novel that I found one day in an abandoned car. I've read it four times already, but it seems to be the only romance I'll ever get in life, so why the fuck not.

"Morning, sunshine." Negan says sleepily as he walks towards the kitchen next to the living room. He grabs a handful of berries we picked yesterday and tosses them in his mouth before making me a cup full and putting them down next to me.

"Morning. Thanks." I say without looking at him.

He sits on the couch next to me. "You wanna talk about last night?"

My cheeks redden. "Nope."

"Okay, then I will." Great, here comes the lecture. "Y/n, I shouldn't have watched you. We both know that. But, I think you're just confused. It's just been the two of us for months now and you're all young and.. fucking horny and shit. But, us? It can't happen."

I stay silent, pretending to read my book.

"Seriously? The silent treatment? You sure did have a lot to say last night."

I remain stubbornly quiet, popping a handful of berries in my mouth.

"Y/n, I don't understand why you're upset right now. Talk to me."

"I'm not upset." I snap. "I'm embarrassed.. humiliated. I was stupid to think you'd ever be into me."

He sighs and I see his head drop out of the corner of my eye. "Darlin', if I was your age, I'd be all fucking over you. Trust me. Please don't be embarrassed, okay? You are hot as shit and any man your age would be lucky to have you. We can forget it happened if that's what you want." He holds his arm out again, and like always, I snuggle into him.

"I don't want to forget." My hand rests against his white t-shirt and I want so badly to slide underneath it and run my fingers through is tummy hair.

A moment of silence goes by before he finally whispers. "Me neither, doll."

I look up at him, my face dangerously close to his. "I love you, Negan."

His hand reaches up to caress my face as if he's scared to hurt me. "I love you too, baby... Just not like that."

He wipes the tear that falls from my cheek and my heart shatters in my chest.

One month later...

My feelings for Negan haven't faded; I'm just better at not showing them. We've been more touchier than usual... cuddling on the couch, holding hands when we walk, but nothing "inappropriate." We also haven't mentioned that night. It's like it never happened, which still hurts when I think about it.

I get done bathing myself off after dinner and slip into my usual sleepwear before crashing to the bed and pulling my book from the nightstand. I could quote every line in it by now.

I start to drift off right before a loud boom hits right outside my window, following a bright flash of lightning. I try to fall asleep, but every time I doze off, another loud boom jolts me awake. I toss and turn for an hour before deciding to do something I know I shouldn't.

I crack Negan's door open slowly, trying not to wake him and gently slip into bed next to him. I also may or may not have taken my sleep shorts off, leaving me in just my pink panties and black tank top. I ease underneath the covers and lay facing him. He's usually a light sleeper, so between the thunder and me sneaking into his bed, I'm surprised he's not awake.

I'm completely still for a good ten minutes, making sure he's still sound asleep before I make any movements. When he lets out a little snore, I slowly slide the blanket down off of him. I imagine myself reaching over and running my fingers through his thick chest hair. I keep sliding the covers down further and further, careful not to wake him, until I get to just below the waistband of his boxers. My eyes trail from the deep v in his abdomen to the black hairs peaking above his underwear and I let myself imagine what it would be like to touch him right now.. to slide my hand down his boxers and feel him. I've wondered how big he is for so long.. trying to steal glimpses of him through his pants when he walks, or catch him with the covers down while he's sleeping.

I decide to pull the covers slightly further down and my mouth gapes open at the sight. He's hard.. so hard that I can see the outline of him through his boxers as it threatens to poke through his underwear. My mouth waters at his size and I know if he ever put it in me, it would definitely hurt like hell.

After I've stared at it long enough to feel like a total creep, my eyes travel back up his body and I almost yelp when I see his head is slightly turned and his eyes are watching me curiously, as if he's been waiting for me to make a move.

"I - uh.. The thunder.. I got scared." I explain.

"Nice try, kid. Go back to bed."

"Negan, please. Just let me sleep here. Nothing weird, I just.. don't wanna be alone."

He sighs and that alone tells me he's going to let me. I hide my excitement as I turn over, facing away from him and snuggling into the covers. They smell like him.. musk and leather.. and the scent makes me practically feral. He's still on his back, but my ass is barely touching his side. It's hardly anything, and it's not like we haven't cuddled before, but the thought of my ass so close to him sets my insides on fire.

Another lightning strike hits outside his window this time and I flinch a little, not purposely meaning for my ass to press into him even more. He doesn't react and I wonder if he's already asleep.

"Negan...?" I say softly.

"Hm?"

"Will you hold me?"

"Y/n, you are seriously pushing it. Go to sleep."

a few minutes go by before another boom echoes in the distance and I jump a little again.

He sighs heavily and turns over, draping his arm over my waist and pressing his body firmly against mine. His dick is pressed against my ass, but it's not as hard anymore... and that hurts a little.

"Go to fucking sleep."

I hold his hand tightly against my lower stomach and embrace this moment with him. I want him so bad that I can literally feel my vagina throbbing. If it could speak, it would be meowing like a cat in heat right now. I close my eyes and imagine him sliding in me from behind. I get a little too lost in the thought and accidentally arch a little, grinding my ass further into him. I feel him grow to full length against me and the feeling is enough for me to squeeze my legs together, desperate for some pressure down there.

"Where the fuck are your shorts?" He says in a deep and sleepy voice.

I giggle as he breathes heavily into my neck before whispering again.

"What the hell am I gonna do with you, baby?"

"Touch me?"

"I'm already touching you, y/n. My fucking dick is basically between your ass cheeks."

"Not yet.. my panties are in the way." I slip my panties off my legs smoothly and discard them on the floor.

"Y/n." He warns but before he can tell me no, I'm bare from the waist down and pressing my ass back against him.

"Trying to give this old man a heart attack?" He chuckles deeply.

"I can try harder than that if you want me to." I tease.

"Fuck, baby. Go to sleep before I do something we'll both regret."

"Like what?"

"...Like pound that pussy so fucking good you'll never think about another man's cock but mine."

"If you love me, wouldn't you want to be the one to give that to me for the first time? Wouldn't you rather it be you than some asshole who doesn't care about me."

He doesn't answer, so I keep pressing him. I place my hand back on top of his resting against my stomach and slowly slide it lower towards my aching center.

"Don't start something you can't finish, darlin'."

"Oh, I'm very determined to finish." I spread my legs apart slightly to guide his hand over my wet center. His middle finger easily slides between my slippery folds and we both moan at the feeling.

"Goddamn. Fucking dripping for daddy. He growls in my ear before leaning up a little and pressing his lips to my neck from behind. I move my hand from his, letting him take control - finally.

His finger moves back and forth between my wet slit, gliding over my clit every few seconds and making me moan each time. His other hand slips under me and up to my neck, gently squeezing my throat.

"This what you wanted, baby?" He breathes in my ear and chills spread over every inch of my skin.

I nod quickly as I feel my orgasm build from just his light touch. He hasn't even put a finger in me and I'm already on the verge of tears.

As soon as his finger rubs tiny circles over my clit, I lose it.. moaning out for him.

"Thaaat's it, cum for daddy, babygirl."

"Negan!" I scream out as his hand goes from my neck to my mouth, muffling the sound.

"Don't need the dead hearing us, doll."

He kisses my neck once I've soaked his fingers and then brings them to his mouth.

"Mmm, fuck, this pussy tastes so good I might have to eat it everyday."

I turn around in his arms to face him. My hand goes up to hold his face and my fingers play with his gray hair. He kisses my forehead before meeting my gaze.

"This is so wrong, baby." He strokes my cheek gently.

"Can't be wrong if it feels this good."

He tilts my chin up to press his lips against mine. It's so much better than I ever imagined. He knows exactly what he's doing, and even though I've never kissed anyone, he takes the lead and I'm thankful for it. I moan into his mouth when he deepens the kiss, his hand gripping the back of my neck now. The feeling of is tongue in my mouth makes me clench my legs again, and I think he notices because his hand on my neck travels lower until it reaches the back of my thigh. He lifts my leg over his and his hand slides to my ass, squeezing lightly before his long fingers tease my entrance from behind.

His dick is pressed into me painfully and I can't wait any longer. I need to touch him. Feel him inside me.

I reach my hand inside his boxers and pull out his big, hard cock. I try looking at it under the covers between us.

"You've never seen a dick before, doll?"

I shake my head no and admire him. It's so perfect.

He closes his eyes as I stroke it. "Fuck. So innocent, baby."

He kisses my neck while I pull on him even more. "You sure you want this, baby?"

I nod. "Yes, please. I've been wanting this for so long, Negan."

He lines himself up at my opening, my leg still draped over his so that he's in between my legs.

"Once we do this, you're mine darlin'."

"I'm already yours."

That's all he needs to hear to finally push the tip past my opening. I've never had anything inside of me other than a finger, and the feeling of his thick head pushing through me and stretching my walls has my mouth falling open.

"Tell me to stop, baby."

"No, keep going. Please." I beg.

He slides deeper and deeper until he's buried inside me completely. He stays still, letting me adjust. and kisses me through the pain. A pain that feels so good. I kiss him back hard, scratching his back while grinding my waist pathetically against him repeatedly. I moan in his ear and give him the go ahead to start moving. He fucks me deep and slow at first, letting me get used to him.

"So fucking tight baby."

He growls in my ear and vibration of his deep voice sends chills through me again until my pussy flutters around him.

"Holy fuck, doll. Do that again."

I squeeze my cunt around him again and he lets out the hottest moan I've ever heard. Not that I've heard a man moan before, but I just know that his are the hottest.

"I won't last if you keep doing that, baby." He warns and the thought of him shooting his load inside me has my head spinning.

After a few more thrusts that have my eyes rolling to the back of my head, I feel myself reaching my orgasm again and hold him against me so I can grind against him and ride it out.

"Negan, Negan, oh my god.” I breathe out as I push myself so hard against him that my clit rubs against his pubic bone creating the friction I need to send me over the edge.

"Goddamn." He thrusts into me faster and harder. "Gonna make me fucking cum already, baby." He tries to pull out but you tighten your leg around him so he can't pull away.

"Cum in me, Negan. Please." I cry desperately. "I love you. I want all of you."

He kisses me hard before his hips come to a halt. He practically yells out when he shoots his load deep inside me. "Ah, fuck! Babyyy."

The sound of Negan cumming is even hotter than his moaning from earlier - I didn't think it could get any better but holy shit. We're both a tangled, sweaty mess while our hearts beat out of our chest.

We eventually fall asleep with our lips still touching and his softening dick still inside me.

I don't even worry about the possibility of what could happen in the future.. I know I'm safe with Negan.. Here in our little cabin. He gently strokes my hair as we drift back off to sleep.

BOOM. The thunder crashes outside again, but this time I don't even flinch.

"You're not scared of thunder, are you, doll?"

I smile against his chest. "...No."

The End.

Brb, going to take an ice bath.

[hazelfoureyes]

⟢Alastor x Cupid FemReader Tasked with making a demon believe in true love or you can’t return to heaven, things immediately go off the rails when you hurt yourself and Alastor catches one of your most troubling arrows; Mania

˚₊ · »-♡→ Week 1 and Week 2

˚₊ · »-♡→Week 3 and Week 4 smut💦 (keep reading)

Alastor lets you leave the hotel! Together! For soup. Later, your plans to make Alastor lose his obsession backfire. But like, in a hot way so you’re not that mad about it. A+ for effort?

˚₊ · »-♡→Week 5, Week 6, Week 7, and Epilogue smut💦

「warnings/promises: smut, I once again misuse a fucking prayer in a sacrilegious way, soup, spoon feeding, Angel texts, so much cum, bondage, tentacles, just good ole fashion fucking in the radio station, not quite dubcon but Alastor doesn’t really listen, hell has twitter and lets be real it’s just normal twitter, giant Alastor, Horse Luci」

Minors DNI ♥️ 🧹lovingly

You finally managed to leave the hotel. It was of course with Alastor at your side, microphone pressing into the small of your back like a third arm. It was as if he worried you’d just turn around and run.

He opened every door, pulled out your chair, and when your left hand shook and dropped your food he took on the task of feeding you. It was embarrassing, to say the very least. The sinners in the restaurant staring, a brave few filming or typing furiously on their phones.

You got a buzz on your own cell, a gift from Angel when he realized Alastor wouldn’t let you speak with others alone. 

He texted a link to a post on some hell site, to a photo of you right then, at that exact moment, being spoon fed by the radio demon. You considered smashing your head into the table until you blacked out. If you got up and left would you make it back to the hotel before someone realized you weren’t a sinner? You were absolutely terrified of someone noticing you as heaven sent.

Heaven kicked? Heaven thrown. Yeah that one felt right.

“You need to eat. You can’t heal like this.” Alastor sounded concerned, but you fought the urge to care. 

He hadn’t apologized to Husk, but Husk did say Alastor seemed to avoid eye contact which was basically a gift to him. Alastor had come to your room to dress you the next day as he always did, neither of you mentioning the day before. The hall was magically pristine by the time you left.

A tiny sliver of you thought he felt embarrassed. But decades of experience told you that Mania didn’t afford embarrassment, the stricken couldn’t be truly manic if something like that was holding them back.

Maybe it had been such a shallow cut he hadn’t gotten the full punch of Mania?

Another attempt to feed yourself, slowly bringing your spoon to your mouth, “You know when I heal I am going to finish my task and leave, right?” 

An odd laugh, a non-existent tear wiped away, “Adorable. No. I promise you, that won’t happen.”

“Alastor.” You put the spoon down with a clink.

“I love when you say my name. May I offer you more reasons to hold it in your mouth?”

“Al-,” you groaned, “I can’t stay forever.”

He hummed, a show of pretending to think about what you said, “Wrong! You can. And I argue, you will.”

You tried again with the spoon, regretting soup. Your appetite had been shot for awhile and it seemed easy enough. Wrong. Again. There was a constant tremble to your hands since arriving. Perhaps experiencing pain for the first time was rattling your body so much that it couldn’t cope. “Why would I ever do that? This is literal hell.”

Alastor leaned over, taking the spoon from you with ease and bringing it to your mouth, “Because I’ll make you understand it’s where you belong. They didn’t appreciate you,” his grin widened, “Not like I do. Like I can, if you’d let me.”

Annoyed and flustered, you took the help to eat. “Thank you.” A spoonful, “How can you say that though? I’m the one and only Cupid.”

“Actually, no. You’re not. You are just the current incarnation. They’ll replace you.” 

You regretted telling him that. They could. Just replace you, that is. There was nothing stopping them. You stared into your soup, lips curling down.

“Don’t look so defeated. I’ll make you happy, for eternity.” 

Your eyes rolled. “When do you plan on starting that eternal happiness?”

You didn’t look at him when you said it, but you could see his hand slow, then become completely still. Had you wounded him?

He pivoted, “Doesn’t Cupid have wings?”

Another spoonful, “Of course.”

Alastor waited while you took a drink, determined to make you eat the entire bowl, “Where are they?”

A pause. Where were they? You hadn’t realized you couldn’t feel them. They weren’t everpresent, but their weight still sat between your shoulder blades at all times. Always. Normally. But now? 

“You don’t know? That’s troubling.” Alastor read your face with ease.

You shot him a look. Stop doing that. Stop replying to unspoken thoughts.

“Apologies.”

Another text before you could snap at him.

You slid the phone away from Alastor, face red. “Do you think, honestly, if you’re capable of it, that I’ll ever be able to go home?”

His hand came to your neck, running over your collarbone, “For the record, I’ve never once lied to you.” You rolled your eyes, fine, okay, “With your heavenly body, even as weakened as you have been here, I’d say just a few more weeks.”

You turned the phone face down.

“Good…that’s good. If you plan on winning me over, your countdown has started.” You pushed the soup away, appetite gone. The idea of never returning to heaven made you nauseous. He slid it back to you, face stern despite the smile he wore.

The walk home was quiet, your stomach full of unwanted soup.

No, not home. The hotel. 

He usually spoke a lot, clearly loving the sound of his own voice. His hand replaced the staff, settled on your back as he guided you. You could feel the warmth through your clothes. How could he be so hot and not be sweating? Another sinner thing?

The thought hadn’t left you by the time you came into view of the hotel gates. Maybe you had been replaced. How would you know? Maybe that was why your wings were gone. Surely there was some way to communicate from hell.

You found Lucifer as soon as you returned, unbothered by Alastor’s presence, “I need to speak to heaven.” 

Alastor was saying something but you had gotten quite good at tuning him out. Lucifer snapped back, the men quickly devolving into arguing again.

“Lucifer.” You said it with your chest. 

His apple topped cane whirled, a golden circle appearing with a crystal clear image of heaven’s glowing gates through its center.

A loud noise erupted behind you, a high pitched static wail, familiar tentacles flailed and a long shadow of a growing Alastor stretched across the wall. His back was bent into the lobby ceiling, perhaps three stories tall now.

The sounds of magic popping as Lucifer shapeshifted accented the sounds of horror with that of whimsy. You approached the portal, those black tendrils slithering around your ankles but you easily slipped out of them as their owner's energy was pulled to full demon Lucifer slamming into him.

Almost, you could see it. 

A monstrously large hand came down, shaking the hotel and knocking various objects off their perches in the lobby. Charlie and Vaggie, someone else you’d come to enjoy the company of, flew down the stairs.

The common area was filled with the sounds of yelling and breaking glass. You crawled over his hand as Alastor’s fingers curled around your body gingerly. He tried to pull you from the gateway but while he slowed, Lucifer now a flying horse kicking him in the face, your outstretched hand strained to enter the portal.

Your fingers grazed the doorway, the air around the lobby fizzing and warping as a desperate screech tore from Alastor’s wide and impossibly thin chest. The grip tightened around you. A static whine threatened to pop your eardrums.

As your fingertips pressed past the ring, they stopped. Something impenetrable and unseen between you and heaven. 

Alastor must have noticed it too, his grip loosening as you clamored on hand and knees to the portal. Your palm ran over the doorway, searching for a hole or seam to rip. Just under your skin was your home, bright and clean and painless. A tiny ‘no’ fell from your lips, smacking at the barrier with your open hand.

Alastor returned to his normal, still terrifying, height. Lucifer came forward, their fight losing motivation, his small hand on your shoulder as you sat on the hotel lobby floor. He closed the portal and apologized, “Sorry kid. Let’s try again when you finish that task, okay?”

Alastor’s arms went under your back and knees and lifted you off the ground. You didn’t resist or argue. Your eyes were unfocused, vision blurry with tears, as you were carried past the others. Vaggie looked ashamed, which was odd given she had more character than half the archangels could muster together between them.

There existed permissions for who could enter the heavenly realm, a list meticulously kept. They’d removed you from that roster. They’d locked the doors behind you.

You felt good. The final week of your first, and hopefully last, month in hell was marked with taking off your sling for the first time.

A good three day wallow in a metaphorical cave helped you emerge with renewed vigor. Of course they locked the gates behind you, otherwise you’d just go home. That made sense. That made sense.

That had to make sense. 

Deciding to take a risk and attempt to expedite your homecoming, you and Angel made plans. Like a teenager in a party movie you snuck out of the hotel when Alastor was asleep. Well, so you assumed. You weren’t really sure what he did behind closed doors.

Angel brought you somewhere he felt people would be receptive to discussing love and talking to angelic beings, and admittedly also very high. 

Sling off but still being as gentle as you could, you leaned across the small standing-only table to talk-shout with a rather cute aquatic demon. An eel? Or maybe some kind of water-fond lizard? It didn’t matter, his glasses were cute, both of you a little drunk,  and you quite good at saying the right things.

And all of the right things were said, and you felt maybe if nothing else you’d enjoy your first demonic lay, when the power shut off.

Everyone filed out, bummed and bothered to find most of the neighborhood shrouded in darkness.

Angel tapped your shoulder and pointed up the hill to the hotel, radio station a glow with a red light, “Ya know, I wouldn’t be surprised.” Nothing to do but to stare, you stayed quiet and angry while he flagged down a taxi knowing the trip would be fast without traffic lights, “Guess Daddy Dead Eyes is calling you back.” 

Anger grew and grew in your chest as you were charioted home.

Jesus, to the hotel. Stop doing that.

You burst into the radio station tower, Alastor barely reacting. Until, that is, you marched up to his desk.

Pinned before you could react, his body pressing into yours as your ass ran up onto the desk.

“Sneaking out like a child?” His voice was low, soft, unnatural. “Why do you intentionally torment me?” 

 “I have done,” you tried to move but only succeeded in rubbing your stomach against his crotch, “no such thing. You’re just possessed.”

He responded by pressing forward, no accident, as his eyes narrowed on you, “Correct. I am a man possessed.” When he rolled himself into you, an alcohol primed groan escaped your mouth. 

“I thought you didn’t care about those things,” your eyes flashed to his lap pushing into you and then back to his glare.

“You’re my exception that proves the rule. If you’re so desperate for attention there’s no need to leave the hotel to find it.” His smile was poisoned by the simmering anger in his eyes, “Dear.”

It was the alcohol and annoyance at losing a chance with glasses-man, Jake or Jark or something not worth a scrabble move, that made you sneer a reply, “Not yours. I am a divine creature, demon. Your body would just filthy me.” Nose up, feeling absolutely better than him in every sense, you pushed him off and left. 

That was easy. Wow. 

Proud of yourself, you made it to the elevator before you realized— illusions. Perhaps his illusion was the idea sex with you was worth the effort, more so than others. He said it himself before, he didn’t care for such things. Perhaps if you could show him it was as boring and unattractive as sex with anyone else could be, maybe you could shatter his mania with disappointment.

You pulled a u-turn and heel-toed right back into his station. Giving him no time to react this time, you climbed onto his chair and straddled him, “On second thought, try your worst. Let’s get it out of your system and move on.” You ground your hips down. He only smiled up at you, amused. Taking his hands you set them on your waist, giving him permission to handle you, “Claim me. Make everyone know I’m yours.” He didn’t move. You were starting to feel embarrassed, had he goaded you just to make you look stupid? He would.  But your kind invented the tension before sex between enemies, “If you can.”

That did it. His hair visibly stood on end, “It is not a matter of ability. It’s about-”

“If you can’t, that’s fine. No need to start lying to me now. But don’t say I never gave you the opportunity.” You smirked, hoping he enjoyed a taste of his own sardonic medicine, and lifted yourself off of him.

His hands came to life on your hips, helping you rise and then flipping you onto your stomach. Your arms pushed radio transmitters and various old timey fuckery away to make room for yourself.

Those talons slipped up the center of your bottoms and crooked into your underwear. Long and strong, his fingers felt you. “Is this a perk of a heavenly body or is this,” two fingers dipped into your already wet and relaxed entrance, “all for me?”

You fought the urge to respond with anything other than malice, “Don’t flatter yourself.”

In heaven no one needs preparation, no one needs lube or required stretching to keep things whole and fun. You would love to say that quality followed you down, but unfortunately, like perfect health and angelic wings, it had not. 

You decided to chalk it up to the alcohol. Always an easy excuse to offer yourself.

Alastor’s hands pulled away and up, finding the place just above the Rosie’s Emporium clothing tag and ripping the bottoms and underwear clean in half.

You bit into your hand to keep your excited shriek to yourself but unfortunately couldn’t stop your legs kicking up. His laugh echoed off the many windows. 

Why couldn’t he be worse at this? Why couldn’t Alastor be clumsy and meek and awkward at sex? No, the menace you’d gotten almost used to was confident and commanding, you felt yourself twitching in anticipation. People have a misconception that Cupid was a chaste and wholly emotional creature, which was false. First of all, Cupids varied based on the incarnation. Just like other heavenly creatures their personality was varied and unpredictable. 

Personally, you weren’t suited for the job. If you were honest. Why couldn’t your quiver just be full of Eros and Agape? Even of those two, sexual love was more your speed. Romance was fine and lovely but perhaps you’d gotten a little jaded. 

Luckily for you, fucking Cupid was something many winners had on their afterlife bucket lists and you rarely found yourself with an empty bed.

Your attention was stolen back, Alastor’s clawed hand grabbing at the flesh of your thighs, “Oops.”

Focus. Why were you doing this again? Your system was metabolizing the alcohol now, and with the air cooling off your exposed sex, everything was awash with lust. Did you want to diminish his mania or were you just horny?

Would it really be so bad to admit you were both?

Deep breath, you remembered. Boring. Banal. The plan was to be motionless and not provide him any satisfying sounds. Don’t touch him, don’t try to push back on him, no tricks or fancy shit. The sooner he was over this you could make someone trust in love and fuck off home. 

Seconds turned to a minute, your ass in the air as Alastor’s hands pawed at your skin. You wanted to ask what the hold up was, but you didn’t want to give away how much you were needing him to just fuck you already.

“Do you miss flying?”

You looked around, were you so drunk you missed an entire chunk of conversation while thinking about how to hide thirsting for his dick?

“Yes…?” True statement.

“Allow me to help with that.”

There was a moment you half expected to be chucked out the window, but almost worse than that, you heard him seat himself in the chair again before your body was picked up and off the desk. “Alastor! I don’t-,” Hands flailing, feet moving around the best they could, you struggled against the familiar tentacles he had command over. “I do not allow it!”

Your hands batted at them fruitlessly. One came under your knees and folded them to either side of your chest before wrapping around your waist twice, a second across your chest like a seatbelt snug and secure. Had you been on the floor you could almost be mistaken for taking a deeply devout praying stance. Only your arms were free to move, the position making you open and incapable of taking back any semblance of control. 

“Alastor!” Stretching, you could almost reach the edge of his work table, but your fingers and toes curled in as you were seated on something hot and stiff. Your lips quivered, desperate to keep silent as you were pulled down onto him. Reaching back your hands found his stomach, raking your nails across the skin in need of anything to grip. 

When you heard him chuckle to himself, you knew you were already losing. Plan backfiring entirely. You pulled your hands back to your center, taking ahold of the tentacle nestled between and across your chest. 

“Heavenly Father,” his voice was quiet but sure, your eyes so wide you worried you’d get stuck making a permanent face of utter shock and despair, “bless us and these thy gifts which we receive from thy bountiful goodness, through your name, our lord.” You were lifted off his lap, Alastor’s swollen tip dragging along your unstretched walls as he said the Lord's prayer, “Amen.” Pulled back down before the second syllable even reached your ears, you cut into your bottom lip as a scream bounced around behind your teeth.

Heathen.

“I would think you of all people knew how to finish a prayer.” Alastor chided, “What will heaven say?”

If heaven knew you were being impaled midair on an overlord’s cock, they’d create a second hell for you to rule. Population of none. Except maybe some horny nuns.

As he found a pace he seemed happy with, slow and long draws out of you, you realized how fucked you were. Looking down, you could see one of his hands was settled at the base of his cock, those long fingers draped down his balls. The other hand was unseen and unfelt. 

“Alastor.” You tried to sound stern.

“Oh I doubt heaven knows my name. Not yet at least.” He sounded unbothered, almost unaffected. “Not until I’ve spirited away their little angel of love.”

You were almost insulted at how easily he could speak despite being buried so far into your wet, hot cunt. Maybe you had been spoiled in heaven, people usually so turned on by the idea of you that they were coming undone as soon as you were wrapped around them or in them in whatever way you decided.  

A broken chant of “be bored, be bored,” in your mind as Alastor hummed, that mystery clawed hand falling at your back. Biting your lip, you tried to think about anything other than how full he was making you. Did the glasses man at the club have a cock as thick as Alastor’s? Would you have been as satisfied as you were now? Every down thrust made the tuft of fur at this base press against your ass. Soft. You wanted to grind against it, the idea pulling a wanton moan out.

Fuck. Failing to distract yourself because you got distracted. It was so hard to think about anything else than your body being pushed open again and again. The blood on your lips was sweet, licking them clean before finding a new spot to bite down on. Quiet.

“Ah, are you giving me the silent treatment?”

Could this son of a bitch read minds? Could sinners read minds?!

 If you didn’t reply, that was confirmation. But if you did reply, you were breaking your goal of not talking.

“Just…,” you took a deep sigh, knowing this was going to be rough, “I’m not really feeling like making any noise.” A shrug, the best you could manage at least while bound and held aloft in the space above his lap. Pretending this was normal and boring was a feat. “I’m not a vocal person during sex. I prefer to just lie there and get serviced. Don’t mind me.”

That sounded awful. Perfect. 

“Oh? Well then, I guess I’ll not worry myself.” You could hear the smile in his voice. Less perfect. He began to hum a little tune as your body, partially upright, was now being tilted forward at a 45 degree angle from his lap. His cock was bending in you, head pressing harshly up into your walls. 

Heart beating so fast you felt a dizzy spell hit you, that renewed anticipation almost as arousing as the sensations.

His humming continued like he was reading the paper. You’d never ridden a roller coaster, but you’d seen many people do it before and this was surely the same feeling; right at the peak before the drop. When the ride operator stills you and lets you stare down at the height before you. Your stomach was flipping, excitement tinged with fear. 

You were pulled off his dick until you felt the bell of his red tip get just outside your entrance. Was he going to pull out entirely?

No. He pulled you down by way of shadows and fucked you just a couple inches into your cunt. His head was dragging out past your tight hole and smashing back in, directly hitting your g-spot. The spongy bundle of nerve endings was dented with every thrust.

You weren’t used to having your entrance stimulated so much, the skin luckily becoming slick as your own wetness was fucked out of you. 

“That feels weird, please.” How quickly you gave up. “Stop pulling out like that.”

A considerate sigh, “But you’ve gotten so wet, my dear. You’re dripping down my thighs already. I don’t think you want me to stop.”

Could you cum like this? You felt like you could, maybe if you just…you quickened your breath, faster and faster. Your stomach heaving, you felt the crescendo of pleasure. 

“On second thought!” He stopped.

Your toes wiggled, hands gripping the tentacle on your chest. Quiet. Shh. Don’t argue. Boring. Don’t care. The building orgasm waned, you felt your blood pressure lower. This really was hell. 

Alastor’s head was just sitting in you, burning hot and throbbing. You were sure you could feel his heartbeat. 

You two were locked in a standoff. Someone had to let on they were enjoying themselves; Alastor releasing pent up frustration with your attitude toward his affections, you chasing down a rare penetration-only orgasm. 

An idea struck you, a way to hopefully antagonize him and bruise his pride enough to force him into your hand (pussy), “Thank God. I think it’s almost my bedtime.”

Alastor’s smile strained, a twitch coming over his left eye. A trap. But the idea of letting you down and off of him seemed far worse than the small defeat you were offering. “Allow me to rock you to sleep then, sweetheart.”

Success! Shit! 

You reached out, the angle of your punishment allowing you to grab the edge of the table and grip. Alastor’s annoyance translated to an inhuman pace, him pulling you off entirely from his cock before bringing you back down. He was positively slipping in and out of you, your lower lips puffy and soaked around him. This degree of wetness was something you couldn’t remember feeling outside of marathon sessions. 

When your hands tightened, a shock of pain tore down your arm, a scream bringing Alastor to a sudden stop. “My collar…” Pain was apparently not a kink you enjoyed, though you briefly wondered if heaven allowed it at all. 

You couldn’t even fuck properly. You couldn’t do anything right. All you managed to do was fail. A sting to your eyes as the air hit your welling tears. Did humans feel this pain often? Your body was righted and turned, you looked down to Alastor’s face as you were brought to him. He looked so soft, usual smirk a sweet toothless smile, “I told you to keep the sling on, didn’t I?” He looked happy.

Your arms found his shoulders and your head came to his chest, “Shut up and finish already.” He didn’t release you from the binding, instead pulling the right arm under the hold of his slender tendril to keep it safe and out of the way.  His hands were both at the base of his cock while you were gently riding him. Well, “you”. He was still using his powers to manipulate your body on and off of him. Alastor’s fingers were spreading your arousal down his shaft and along his tightening balls, if you had looked at his face you’d have seen a weakened man there, furrowed brows and lust drunk eyes. But you didn’t look, trying to hide the same expression on your own features. 

Left hand free, no need to hold yourself up, you made lazy, and you hoped subtle, circles around your clit. You weren’t sure if this was a total failure or not, but you could finish and say something good came of it. You, specifically. 

Things were quiet, though. The loudest sound in the room was the wet pop coming from where his body was meeting your sopping hole. His breathing was fast and soft, sighing when he bottomed out. Another bite to your lip, a few more deep hits to your cervix, and you enjoyed a small but satisfying release. The hand on you stayed through, riding out tiny waves of pleasure as you twitched around him. When you felt his release you sighed, you did it. You think. Maybe. Regardless. 

As he slowly lifted you, you considered if your legs could hold you—

Up you went and back down you fell as he took a new, quicker pace.

“A-Ah-lastor?! You,” you bit your tongue, “already finished?”

You had made a mistake earlier that you hadn’t even realized. But Alastor had been holding it between his sharp teeth, “How many times?”

Absolutely no idea what he was talking about, you gasped out a reply, “What!?”

“How many times should I fill you before you’re too filthy to return to heaven, do you think?” He couldn’t be serious. “Three? Five? You see, the advantage of using my tentacles is that I don't get tired.”

Oh, but he was serious. 

The battle was entirely forfeit somewhere around the third time he flooded you with his seed.

“These aren’t the usual screams I enjoy from my studio, but I’m not averse to them.”

 When he felt you’d learned whatever lesson you were supposed to be taking in by the pump full, you were finally removed from him. He covered your lower half with his coat around your waist. It would be lying to say you were surprised to find his wide shoulders and small waist wasn’t just an illusion of his well tailored, yet oddly torn, coat. He was annoyingly attractive. Who gave him the right?

Your legs gave out when you tried to stand, warm hands pulling under your armpits to get you back on your feet. As much as you wanted to push him away, you were still a little tipsy and your legs still getting used to full blood flow. His arm held out for you to use for stability, you took it and wobbled silently to the floor you both lived on. Before you left the elevator you looked down and saw a line of white dripping down your inner leg. Took longer than you expected, honestly. 

When you turned to the right to go to your door, his arm came around your waist and shepherded you to his room on the left. You shot him a look, asking what he thought he was doing. 

He laughed, “Oh, after tonight’s little escapade, you’re moving!” He opened his door and gestured for you to enter, “Welcome home, my dear.”

What was worse than a failure? A catastrophe? This was that. 

“Now come on, we need to get you cleaned up.” A hand patted softly at your ass before ushering you inside.

He did just that, wiping you down and undressing you before settling you into his bed. Exhausted and sore, you decided to argue after sleep.

When you awoke, you checked your shredded bottoms for your phone. Nothing. 

An answer was found when you mentioned it to Alastor, who asked what you were searching for so early in the morning, “Perhaps someone at that venue you enjoyed has it? Too bad you can’t go back and ask.” He was resting his back against the headboard, you realized he’d unbuttoned his shirt quite a bit. “Oh well!”

How was he always making you scream?

ᡣ𐭩ˋ°•*⁀➷ masterlist

∰ Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult (general tag list):

@cxrsedwxrlds , @nonetheartist , @tsunaki , @janchei , @wettiny-in-smutland , @moonmark98 , @hoebihoeshi , @pansexual-opera-house , @polytheatrix , @lorddiabigmommymilkers , @backinthefkingbuildingagain , @harley2223-blog , @coffee-colored-hopeless-romantic , @poinappel , @midnightnoiserose , @spookieroz , @missmidorima , @ivebeenthearchersstuff , @downbadforfictionalppl , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @sleepylittledemon , @aether-th3-enby , @dontfuckbutimfab , @breathlessaura , @aperfectidiot , @certainlygay , @jth12 , @star-kujo-platinum ,

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🏹Alastor stalkers: @celestial-vomit , @amurtan

@faeoffaith , sailorsmouth , @jeannyjaykaydeh , @jyoongim , @cosmic-lavender , @saturn-alone , @lustylita , @radio-darling , @kaylopolis , @dickmastersworld , @leviskittywh0re

@asianfrustration13 @alittletiredcry @sirens-and-moonflowers @alastorssimp

[breeloveschris]

Something more

Pairing: softdom!chris x Reader

Summary: You and Chris have an agreement with being friends with benefits but you unsurprisingly caught feelings.

Warnings: cussing, smut, angst, heated kiss, P n v, toxic chris, happy ending, fingering, spanking, choking, and I probably missed a lot but oh well.

Breespeaks: thank you so much for 1k??? Hello?? I didn’t think y’all enjoyed my writing like that lol also this is basically a collab with my girl @worldlxvlys full credits go to her for the text. (She absolutely devoured them and made this story 10x better)

You and Chris have been best friends for roughly around 3 years. There was always sexual tension between y’all from all the harmless flirting you guys did and the fact that no matter what you had to be touching each other in some form.

Weather or not it was just a hug or a simple hand on the shoulder, you had to be touching each other.

Your friends always claimed you two were gonna end up together in some way, it also didn’t help that both of your moms gushed over the fact that y’all were “destined” to be together.

Chris’s brothers always gave him shit for not trying anything with you, they claimed you as the “hottest” girl he’d ever get to be with.

But Chris didn’t want to ruin y’all’s friendship, and he also didn’t wanna be tied down. He felt that if he was to get into a relationship he wouldn’t be able to have the experience other young adults would get.

He wouldn’t disagree about you being attractive though, he’s always found you more attractive than most girls.

He also isn’t blind and can see the fact that you could literally be with anyone if you tried, but he can’t help but feel a little jealous when seeing men come up to you and flirt with you even tho you never did anything about the guys flirting with you.

You’ve always thought Chris was attractive, you’ve always thought that if one day y’all don’t find anyone to marry then you’d marry him.

But on one random Tuesday five months ago, Chris came to you with an “amazing idea” that he’s been thinking about for quite awhile.

“Okay so hear me out” Chris grinned at you, you looked at him cautiously.

“What?” You whispered with a raised eyebrow, “what if we start like a friends with benefits kinda thing?” He hesitated with a small smile.

“Chris what the fuck?” Your eyes widen, but deep down you’ve been waiting for this.

He sighed and shook his head, “just hear me out please” he looked at you from beside you, with your thighs touching.

“Go on” you whispered keeping eye contact, even though your heart was beating out of your chest.

Chris turned his body to face yours, “I know you feel the sexual tension between us” he whispered. “It’s kinda hard not to” he continued, your mouth parted slightly but nothing came out.

“And plus, I don’t want a relationship and for some reason you don’t go for any guys so what if we just helped each other out” he looked at you with begging eyes.

You looked at the tv and back to him, “I don’t know Chris, that’s risky” you winced. You didn’t wanna ruin yalls friendship by someone catching feelings, you’ve read enough books to know that it always happens.

But nonetheless you agreed, and y’all have been ‘friends with benefits’ for five months. The hardest 5 months of your life.

There was only one rule to this.. and that was not to catch feelings. But you have completely failed, you caught feelings only two months into it.

It’s hard not to, it’s Chris. And y’all are best friends so it made it harder, it wasn’t just sex for you. It was more than that, you didn’t understand why you agreed when you knew you’d catch feelings.

But for chris.. he was having the time of his life, but he wasn’t just having sex with you. There was one other girl. You knew chris slept around, but you didn’t think it would hurt you considering you’ve known about this since he started.

But it does, it hurts you so much. It fucks with your head, thoughts always taking over your mind. Like “why does he need more” or “am I not good enough?” But you pushed them down for his sake.

You always did things for Chris even if it was hurting you.

Y’all decided not to tell anyone, per Chris’s request. He didn’t want to tell other people because he didn’t want them to think y’all were gonna start dating.

Not telling people messed with your head even more considering you couldn’t talk to anyone about how you were feeling because you couldn’t even turn to your best friend in this situation.

You’re currently laying on Nicks bed as y’all were watching a movie.

Someone busted through Nicks door scaring the shit out of you and Nick, “you, come with me” Chris said pointing at you.

“Nah, we’re watching a movie” you shrugged, your plan was to start being cold towards Chris to see if your feelings would go away.

“Ugh Y/n/n, please” Chris groaned and started walking into Nicks room, “bro get out, we’re trying to watch a movie” you rolled your eyes as Nick pressed pause on the movie.

Chris’s eyes widen a bit as he raised his eyebrows, you’ve never called Chris bro before. It’s always been his name or bug a nickname you started calling him awhile ago.

“Alright quit playing and come on” he chuckled, your face remains stiff.

“Dude just get out, she doesn’t wanna go” Nick chipped in, Chris just laughed coldly and shook his head turning to leave.

After Chris left, you guys continued the movie, but not even five minutes later you got a text from Chris.

You sighed and turned off your phone off. You turned it facing down on your stomach, “you good?” Nick asked as his eyes never left the tv.

“No yea.. I’m good, I’m just gonna go see what Chris wants.. I feel kinda bad” you whispered thinking of an excuse fast, “okay, just come back up after so we can finish this movie” he said with a smile, pulling out his phone.

You mumbled a quick “okay” as you got out of his bed and going out the door.

You walk down the stairs with your heart beating fast, you wasn’t expecting to have sex with Chris today. Y’all normally do it when no one’s home.

You made it to his room and immediately walk in, not caring to knock considering you never knock anyways.

“Look who decided to come down” he smirked looking you up and down like you were his last meal, “shut up Chris, what do you want” you asked crossing your arms with an eye roll.

“I thought I made myself clear?” He questioned with a head tilt, “I didn’t make myself clear enough for you? My bad, what I was trying to say is.. I want that pretty pussy wrapped around my cock baby” he stated bluntly as he started walking towards you.

“We calling each other bro now? You serious?” He laughed as he stopped right in front of you, you glared up at him.

“It slipped” you shrugged dryly, “what is with your attitude today princess” he chuckled and shook his head. You sighed and looked off to the side.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong” he said as his demeanor changed, you looked down and sighed.

“Nothings wrong Chris” you rolled your eyes, “your attitude needs to go, I’m not a fan of it” he squinted his eyes down at you.

You shrugged and turned around to walk out of the room, this wasn’t working.. all you wanted to do was rip his clothes off and suck his cock.

Chris rolled his eyes grabbing both of your wrist and turning you around before slamming you into the door with your hands above your head, you gasp at the sudden movement and your heart pounds faster.

He grabs your chin with his free hand tilting your head up, your face being inches away from his.

“I’m not messing around tonight.” He seethed through gritted teeth, your thighs clenched in need. You’ve always loved when Chris was mad.. you don’t know why but something about it makes your core soaked.

“Then do something about it pretty boy” you smirked to no one but yourself, he grinned and pressed his lips into yours in a hungry kiss.

He let go of your hands and put one of his hands on your waist, he wrapped his other hand around your throat applying some pressure. You moaned into the kiss loving the familiar feeling on your neck.

He slipped his tongue into your mouth, your hands immediately go to his hair gripping onto it roughly. He groans out as he presses his body flush to yours, his hand slowly going down towards the front of your shorts.

He pressed his hand onto your clothed core, you moan into the kiss as your hips jolt forward. Chris smirked and started moving his hand in a circular motion.

You pulled away from the kiss and threw your head back hitting your head on the door. Chris removed his hand on your neck and started leaving slow and wet kisses on your neck, “Chris!” you moan loudly before a hand lands on your mouth silencing your whines of pleasure.

“You got to be quiet baby, we’re not home alone this time” he whispered as he stood up straight, he brought his hand back up to your waist. “Dick” you mumbled and rolled your eyes, “if you don’t lose that fucking attitude you’re not cumming tonight” he glared down at you.

You rolled your eyes again, he says this 7 times we fuck out of 10 and you get to cum every single time.

“Keep playing with me baby, imma make this a long night for you” he smirked, you brought your hand up and grabbed his eraction through his sweatpants, freaky ass fucker wasn’t wearing any boxers. His jaw fell slack as his eyes fluttered shut, “what was that pretty boy?” You smirked up at him.

“Sh-shut up” he whispered as he pulled you into another kiss, you started rubbing his tip through his sweats. He pulled away from the kiss, resting his head on yours. His breathing was heavy as he let out a small whine.

“Your all talk huh, what happened to making this a long night. Your already so hard, probably won’t last long” you hummed continuing your movements, Chris rolled his eyes grabbing your hand and pinning it beside your head.

“Your really testing me tonight huh?” He whispered getting close to your face, “get on the bed and strip” he glared as he dropped your hand and crossed his arms waiting for you to move.

“No bruh” you rolled your eyes as you mirrored his actions, you knew this would set him off.

“Alright” he chuckled darkly as he picked you up and threw you over his shoulder, you landed with a sigh of relief.

Chris cocked his hand back and smacked his hand down hard onto your ass, you moan as your body jolts forward.

“Quiet baby” he whispered as he threw you onto the bed, “strip” he mumbled as he took off his shirt. “Do it for me baby, my arms are tired” you crawled towards the edge of the bed looking up at Chris with doe like eyes.

He gawked down at you, “holy shit” he whispered in awe. You sat on top of your heels as one of your heels was pressed firmly on your core.

You felt on top of the moon, Chris rarely ever lets you take control even just for a little bit. So the fact that he let you take control for a few moments had you feeling like nothing could stop you.

Chris leaned down and started kissing your neck, “you gonna lose that attitude pretty girl?” He whispered as he slowly removed your top, his breath hitting your neck perfectly making you shiver.

You didn’t reply to him just to see what he’d do, you’ve never messed with him this much before.

“Not wearing a bra? What a dirty slut” he laughed as he started messaging your tits, “you do this for me ma?” He smirked as he rolled your nipple between his fingers.

You try so hard not to make a sound, but it’s hard when even his voice makes you want to moan.

“Oh so your being quiet now? Your face looks like your about to cum in your pants baby” he smirked as he wrapped his hand around your neck again, “still nothing hm?” He hummed.

He pushed you into the bed by your neck, as soon as you land on your back he removes his hand a rips off your shorts and panties all in one. He puts your panties in his back pocket, “saving these for later” he smirked down at you.

You felt overly exposed so you wrap your arms around your chest, he notices very quickly and grabs both of your hands and pinning them down above your head.

“Don’t hide from me angel, you’re the most beautiful girl” he whispered, and there it was.. the complements that felt more then just friends with benefits.

You moaned as he rutted his hips into yours, “there she is” he smirked as he brought you into a kiss.

He removed his hands from yours and brought them down to your legs rubbing them up and down your thighs, “please” you whined from under him. “What is it pretty girl” he smirked, “touch me” you whimpered as he brought his hand closer to where you needed him.

“I am touching you, where else do you want me to touch you” he cocked an eyebrow looking down at you, you groaned as you reached down and grabbed his hand and put it on your core.

He looked down at his hand and back to your face, he smirked as he started running a finger through your slick. “You’re so wet for me baby” he said as he slipped a finger into your entrance with ease considering how wet you are.

He started thrusting his finger into you repeatedly, before adding a second finger. Once he added the second finger you grabbed his wrist fast gripping onto it so he’d stop, “your already close?” He whispered in amazement, he’s never seen you finish so quickly.

Right after he asked your body shook as you came undone, “holy shit” he giggled. You blushed as you looked up at him and covered your face with your hands.

“No baby, it was cute” he whispered prying your hands off of your face.

“Are we just gonna talk about how you made me cum that quickly or are you gonna put your dick in me?” You sassed with a blush on your face, “welp I guess the attitude is back” he laughed and shook his head.

He thrusted into you without warning making you scream out, well.. tempted to but Chris knows you to well and knew that was coming so he put his hand on your mouth so you couldn’t be loud.

Chris was thrusting his hips into yours at fast pace, and at this rate you could cum in any minute.

“Taking me so good baby” he whispered right before my phone started going off, Chris groaned but continued his movements nonetheless.

“Fuck, you mph” your eyes rolled into the back of your head as your hips jolted up meeting his thrust half way, “shit” Chris whispered. “I done fucked you dumb huh” he said breathlessly, “I love you” you whispered. Your eyes basically fell out of your head. You never meant to say that.

You tried squirming away but Chris grabbed onto your hips and pulled you closer, “I love you baby” he whispered. You looked up at him with soft eyes, he just laughed and shook his head as he brought his hand down to your clit.

He started rubbing on your clit fast, you moaned and threw your head back.

“Come on baby, cum for me” he whispered keeping eye contact, and that was all you needed before you spluttered under him and came all over his cock. “Good girl” he whispered in your ear.

He groaned and threw his head back as he came in you, you felt his warm cum paint your walls.

He laid his head on your shoulder and stayed in you for a couple of minutes before slowly pulling out. You winced at the loss and sensitivity.

He threw you his shirt to throw on as he ran to the bathroom to grab a wet, he came back to see you laying on your back on the same spot but you had his shirt on. He took the wet rag and cleaned you both up before throwing it in the dirty clothes.

He grabbed your hips and pushed you further onto the bed so your head would be on his pillows. Chris climbed onto the bed and laid next to you throwing an extra blanket on top of you, he pulled you close to him so your head was laying on his chest.

“So.. what happened to not catching feelings?” Chris hummed with a small smile on his face, he always knew it would happen. He just was nervous it would be him first.

“We will talk about this later, right now I wanna take a fat nap” you whispered against his chest, “okay princess” he chuckled as he kissed the back of your head.

Breespeaks pt 2: once again heavy credits to @worldlxvlys she helped a lot!! Go check her stories out if you haven’t already!!

taglist: @worldlxvlys @sturniolosmind @luverboychris @disturbedwoodelf @junnniiieee07 @patscorner @nicksmainbitch @mayhem-72 @b2cute @annamcdonalds67 @batoolareadss @wurlibydominicfike @hearts4chriss @endereies

[ssahotchnerr]

Hiya Katie! How about domestic Aaron pampering her when he find out she's pregnant and jack makes her a get well soon card because he thinks she's sick but she tells him he's going to be a big brother and jacks ecstatic and Aaron is just like all smiley and happy about being a father again and maybe hoping for a girl because hotch is such a girl dad like 🤭🤭 also I love your work so much! It makes my day! Your an amazing writer ❤

newest addition

thank you so much & ughh that's the sweetest <3333 cw; fem!reader, jack calls reader mom, pregnancy, reference to vomiting wc; 1.1k

"buddy, what are you doing?"

you've been awake for awhile now, unwilling to part from the comfort of bed. your eyes are still closed, and in curiosity, you keep them that way.

"i made mom a get-well card." jack's voice is closer than aaron's, and you can hear him shuffling at your bedside. you hear a soft crinkle of a paper, a quick stagger of your water glass, as he sets the paper against it. "i heard her throwing up this morning, so i wanted to make her feel better."

morning sickness has been your worst enemy so far during your pregnancy. it was what made you question if you were pregnant at the very start, and has been frequently reoccurring throughout your first trimester. it feels like the majority of your time these days is either spent in the bathroom, or in bed absolutely overwhelmed with nausea.

if permitting - when you're leant over the toilet, aaron is always seated on the bathroom floor beside you; rubbing your back in soothing circles, holding back your hair when necessary, whispering an apology or words of encouragement. you insist he doesn't need to be present, the sounds and visual of you retching surely disgusting nonetheless. but he insists he remain put, joking it's rather romantic actually, there's no place he'd rather be.

but in all seriousness, he claims it's the least he could do, and wants to support you in all and any way he can.

even this morning at promptly five am, you had made a mad dash to the bathroom. aaron, never the light sleeper, accompanied you in the bathroom just as quickly as you had entered it.

his tenderness doesn't stop there; he'll grab your ginger ale, crackers, pretzels, anything to relieve your queasiness and keep it at bay. he even joked (but did consider) with the idea of buying you a mini fridge to keep in your bedroom - for even easier access. or if he's not home, you don't have to search far.

the two of you have known about your new littlest addition for a few weeks, and couldn't be more ecstatic. jack - not just yet. but you figure that's a case that will soon be remedied.

you can hear a soft chuckle escape from aaron, and you can easily picture the smile you know is on his face. "that's real nice of you bud, i know she'll love it. but in the meantime, c'mon, let's let her sleep, yeah?"

you hear jack's sock-covered feet pad away on the carpet, the sound of the door softly shutting following soon after.

you fall back asleep without meaning to, exhaustion reigning over your body. but an hour later, and after tearfully looking at jack's card, his scribbly print wishing you well and a doodle of yourself and him, you find the two of them in the living room; jack's on the carpet, busied by legos, while aaron's on the couch, watching some show on the television.

aaron notices you before jack does, raising an eyebrow slightly in question - silently seeking confirmation on how you are feeling now.

you give him a nod, and he seems to relax more against the back of the couch. as you join him, jack's eyes lift.

"c'mere," you pat the empty spot between you and aaron, and soon enough, jack's sandwiched between the two of you, curled more so into your side. aaron grabs the remote, clicking off the tv.

"thank you so much for the card." you place a kiss on the top of his head, your arm going around his shoulders and giving him a squeeze. "you're the sweetest, have i ever told you that?"

"all the time." jack says, his emphasis making you laugh gently. but concern quickly fills his face, his eyes a bit troubled. "are you sick?"

you shake your head, brushing some hair away from his forehead. "nope."

the concern is now replaced by confusion. his eyebrows furrow, making him look extremely like this father. "why'd you throwed up?"

"well..." you exchange a look with aaron, glancing at him overtop jack's head. there's a smile tugging at his lips, a small sparkle in his eyes. "sometimes... it happens. when you're going to have a baby."

it takes jack a few seconds to internalize what you've just told him. but his head whips up to look at you, and then aaron, and then back to you. his eyes are wide. "a baby?"

"a baby." aaron confirms, arching an eyebrow in question. "any objections to being a big brother?"

"no!" jack vigorously shakes his head, his face lighting up even more, grinning from ear to ear. "really?!"

you grin right back. "really."

jack nearly jumps right onto you in excitement, aaron's hands flying out to catch him so the fall isn't as forceful. his gentle warning of careful, is barely audible over jack's next inquiry.

"is it a girl?!"

"we don't know yet," aaron answers, his voice catching slightly which prompts your gaze to switch to him. there's tears threatening his eyes, pooling at his waterline. you swear, you've never seen him so happy.

you help him, adding on, "we'll find out in a few more weeks."

jack nods at this information, still buzzing. "i really really want a sister. but a brother would be super cool too."

aaron nudges jack with his elbow, lips quirking into a smile. "i really, really do too. but more than anything, a healthy baby is what we want."

"a healthy baby." jack agrees, with a small nod of his head. his arms wrap around yourself, burying his face slightly into your abdomen. "that's so cool! i can't wait."

now it's your turn to look at aaron, tearful.

somehow, now that jack is aware, your family feels more complete. you and aaron have talked about growing your family, have discussed it with jack, for as long as you can remember - what it'll be like, having another little hotchner running around and causing havoc, potential names have been tossed around, jack wants to teach his expertises, legos and soccer. you’re eager to see a newborn in aaron’s arms, the new-dad-to-another glow present in him. at the time, it was distant; all memories to hopefully be made someday.

that time, that someday, has finally arrived. and if jack's reaction is anything to go by, you just know, the two of them will the absolute best of friends.

you can’t wait, either.

[sapphic-gardn]

Dancing With The Devil

dbf!joel miller x f!reader

Summary: Your dad’s best friend, Joel Miller runs into you at a bar on the night of Halloween. He’s a gentleman and takes you home.

Warnings (18+ mdni): age gap (not specified), drinking/alcohol, intoxication, swearing, pet names (darlin’, sweetheart, angel, baby, babygirl, etc.), f!masturbation, oral f!receiving, fingering, oral m!receiving, unprotected p in v (pls dont do this irl), creampie, dirty talk, joel calls reader a slut literally just once, if im forgetting anything pls let me know!!

Word count: 4.9k

a/n: Hi!!! I’ve been working on this one shot for awhile—I really hope it is everything and more for you guys! I am posting this in place of Willow pt. 3 due to a bit of writer’s block but trust it will be posted soon!! As always, please let me know what you think. I love you so much.

Also thank you to @gracieheartspedro for helping and encouraging me on this one. I can’t even begin to thank you enough, my love.

—

Halloween is your favorite holiday. For one night out of the year, you get to be anything you want, unashamedly. It’s an escape from reality, a dip into another life. And confidence comes easily when you’re pretending. You scan over your costume in the reflection of the floor length mirror in front of you—a too-tight red dress adorns your curves, black fishnets hug your thighs, and bright red stilettos accentuate your figure.

“C’mon! We gotta get to the club before the line gets too long,” your best friend appears behind you and places the headband with devil horns in your hair, “There. Perfectly slutty.” She rests her head on your shoulder and admires your costume in the mirror. She is dressed as your opposite, an angel.

“Stop panicking! The uber is still five minutes away, Pheebs.” Phoebe’s a worrier, and is never ever late anywhere, so the fact that you two are leaving fifteen minutes later than you originally planned, has her buzzing with anticipation.

While Phoebe paces back and forth at the foot of your bed, you dig through your makeup bag for your favorite red lipstick. You slightly over line your cupids bow and blend the color with your finger. You lean back and study yourself for a minute, you look hot. Phoebe interrupts your thoughts when she starts yelling about the Uber driver’s arrival. With a tug of your arm, both of you are trampling out of your apartment door in your six-inch heels on wobbly legs.

The club is suffocating. In your drunken state, the strobing lights and the bodies grinding up against you make it so much worse. Phoebe is dancing with some guy dressed as a vampire, she looks extremely unimpressed so you decide to take it as your chance to leave. You pull Phoebe away from the handsy man and shoot him an apologetic smile—you’re not sorry at all.

You feel like you’ve been resuscitated when you step out into the cool autumn air outside.

“Thank god you rescued me from Dracula. Guy was about to get his fake blood all over my white dress.” You and Phoebe share a laugh and lean against the brick wall behind you. The alcohol seems to hit you harder once removed from the chaos inside of the club. You scan the buildings lining the street in front of you and a bar name captures your attention. It’s the bar where your dad frequents with his buddies after work, one of his buddies being a painfully gorgeous dilf, Joel Miller. You know for a fact your dad won’t be there because your mom dragged him to some Halloween work party she wouldn’t stop talking about over the phone yesterday.

An idea pops into your brain and you can’t shake it, so you point to the bar across the street and tug at Phoebe’s hand, “Let’s go there! It’s probably less crowded and I’m not ready to call it a night,” you give your friend your best puppy dog eyes, and she begrudgingly gives in with a roll of her eyes and an okay, fine.

The dive bar smells of stale smoke and spilled beer. Random sports games are televised on multiple screens against the far wall and a jukebox sits in the corner playing a classic rock song from the 80s. It has character, you think to yourself. It’s a breath of fresh air compared to the marble top bars and sparkling chandeliers that decorated the club you just left. You and Phoebe definitely stand out from the crowd of middle-aged men loitering around the place. It feels a bit intimidating getting checked out by pervy old men as you strut to the bar, but it’s too late to turn back now. Plus, you are looking for a certain someone.

You scan the hefty crowd and search for the man with familiar brown curls and a scruffy beard. You double check every table and bar top with no luck, he is definitely not here. With a disappointed sigh, you chug your vodka cran and tell Phoebe you’re ready to head out.

Just before you get up to leave, you hear your name being called by a husky voice behind you. You would know that voice anywhere. You turn around, and there he is in all his glory. A tight, navy blue t-shirt hugs his chest and his biceps are about to tear the seams. He greets you with a half smile.

“Mr. Miller! What’re you doing here?” You act surprised, at least you try your best to act surprised with the alcohol running through your veins.

“Sarah’s out trick or treatin’ with some friends, got tired ‘a givin out candy, decided on gettin’ a beer to pass the time.” He scratches the back of his neck and looks at you sheepishly, “uh, I think I should be askin’ you what you’re doin’ here. You tend to hang at a bar with a buncha old farts?”

You giggle, “Not necessarily, no. Pheebs and I were just having a nightcap after clubbing. Oh! How rude of me. Phoebe, this is Joel. Joel, this is Phoebe, my best friend.” You gesture between the two of them and give Phoebe’s shoulder a light squeeze while her and Joel share a quick handshake.

“Nice to meet you, Phoebe. Well, I should let you girls go on your way. I’ll see ya around, then.” As you bid your farewells to Joel and start to walk forward, you nearly fall flat on your face. Maybe you were more drunk than you thought. “Woah there, easy, darlin’.” Joel grabs you by the hips to steady you before you trip over your own two feet.

“‘M sorry, Mr. Miller. I think I drank a little too much. I’ll be okay, we’re gonna order an Uber anyway.” Your hand lays flat against his chest and you bashfully look at him through your eyelashes. You’re so close to him, you can smell his cologne. Pine? Maybe a hint of sandalwood. You can see the specks of gray hidden in his beard and the crease between his eyebrows. He is so beautiful, you just keep repeating that to yourself over and over as you study his face. He is also too old for you and your dad’s best friend, you remind yourself.

“Nonsense. I’ll give you girls a ride home, your old man would kill me if I let ya walk outta here barely able to stand up on your own.” Joel keeps a hand firmly planted on your upper back as Phoebe leads the way to the exit.

Joel’s truck is an old Chevy with a single bench. You’re sandwiched between Joel and Phoebe. Phoebe’s head is resting against the window as she drifts in and out of sleep, but you are wide awake and laser focused on your thigh brushing Joel’s. Electricity shoots through you with each bump in the road, pushing you and Joel closer together. The music on the radio plays at a low volume, so low you can hear the way Joel breathes. The way his breath hitches in the slightest every time you two touch unintentionally.

You’re giving Joel the directions to Phoebe’s place, which is difficult considering you’re drunk and everything is mush in your brain. But by some miracle, Joel finds Phoebe’s apartment building, and you walk her to the front door, hugging her goodbye.

When you get back in the truck, you return to the spot on the bench right next to Joel.

“Y’could move over now, if that’s more comfortable for ya, darlin’,” you hum in acknowledgment at Joel’s suggestion.

“Mmm. Don’ wanna. ‘S comfy, you’re so warm,” you’re definitely playing up your drunkenness but it doesn’t hurt if it means you get to be a little closer to Joel. You nuzzle your head against his muscular shoulder and sigh in contentment as you feel yourself getting sleepy.

Joel chuckles, a deep laugh that vibrates through his chest straight to your temple, “Alright, sweetheart, whatever makes ya happy,” he then lifts him arm and stretches it across the back of the seat, letting you cradle into his side. You soak in the moment, relishing in the way the lights whir past you along with the houses lining either side of you. The way Joel’s breathing is steady but his heart rate is just as fast as yours. You can smell his detergent on his shirt and you can feel the way his muscles tense and relax with each turn he makes with the wheel. You could probably do this for hours, just driving down random streets, the radio quietly playing being the only sound in the confines of the car. But, all good things must come to an end, such as pulling into your apartment complex’s parking lot and untangling yourself from Joel’s warm body.

No words are exchanged on the way to the lobby, or the elevator, or even walking down your hallway, just a silent reassurance by Joel’s hand on the small of your back—a message—I want to make sure you’re okay. When you get to your door, you purposely fumble with the keys and wobble on your heels. Your plan works out perfectly.

“Here, lemme get the door. I’ll walk ya to bed and get you a cup of water once we’re inside.” Bingo.

Joel swings the door open and you stumble past the threshold, immediately kicking off your stilettos. His hand finds its way to the small of your back again, gently leading you to your kitchen. You plop down on a chair and watch Joel search the cabinets for a glass. You are more than capable of telling him where they are, but you like watching the way his biceps stretch the fabric of his shirt every time he reaches to pull open a cabinet door. Once he finds a glass, he fills it with the tap and saunters over to you.

“Here ya go, angel. Gotta get you hydrated.” Joel holds the glass out to you, and you guzzle it in a few gulps, “Thirsty girl, ain’t ya? Feelin’ any better?”

“Mhm. Much better. You make it better,” a close lipped, content smile paints your features as you set the glass down on the table and get up from your seat. Now chest to chest with Joel, you place a hand on his chest and look up at him. With the heels now discarded, he towers over you. You note how his pupils dilate a bit when your eyes meet.

“Let’s get you to bed, sweetheart,” Joel feels his chest tightening with each second your hand lingers on his sternum. He wants nothing more than to close the distance between you two and lose himself in the feeling of your lips intermingling. But he knows you’re off limits, you’re his best friend’s daughter and too many years his junior. So he locks those thoughts somewhere in the depths of his brain and grabs your hand to lead you to your bedroom—just so he can make sure you’re okay, at least that’s what he tells himself.

Joel enters your bedroom first, absorbing the intimate space you call your own. Old vinyl records line your shelves and plants sit on your windowsill, overgrown and cascading to the oak flooring, a book sits on your nightstand with a pair of glasses sitting atop the cover. He scans your walls and notes the art you’ve chosen to decorate with, modern paintings of silhouetted bodies intertwined. Your desk is littered with pencils and journals, one is open to a sketch of a tree. It smells like you, vanilla and jasmine, he feels himself getting intoxicated each time he inhales. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees you moving around, you’re fumbling with your dresser, digging through the drawer trying to find something.

“Jus’ sit down, darlin’, what’re you lookin’ for?” Joel gently moves you aside and guides you to sit on the edge of the bed.

“I’m just looking for one of my big sleep shirts. It’s an old Texas Longhorns shirt. You can’t miss it, it’s probably at the bottom of the drawer somewhere.”

“Alright, angel. I’ll find it for ya.” Joel has his back turned to you as he rummages through the balled up shirts in your drawer. You take this moment as your cue to make a move. You slowly start sliding your thin straps down your shoulders, careful to not expose your chest just yet. “Found it!” Joel seems elated that he found the shirt you so desperately wanted, it’s endearing. When he returns his attention to you, the piece of clothing falls from his hands to the floor beneath him. You are leisurely pulling your dress down over the curve of your breasts, maintaining eye contact as you do so.

“Can you help me get this dress off, Joel? Please?” You feign innocence and gaze at him with doe eyes. Joel is looking anywhere but you, clearly fighting his inner voice telling him what’s happening is wrong.

“I think you can do that yourself, honey. I don’ want your daddy t’kill me,” Joel stares at the ceiling, cursing whatever higher power there is for putting him in this situation. He feels you step closer to him, the tension palpable in the air shared between the two of you.

With your dress pulled just below your breasts, you take both hands and gently pull Joel’s head down to look at you, “Joel, I know you want this just as bad as I do. We’re both adults. I won’t kiss and tell, c’mon.” Your hands trail from his jaw to his neck, to his collarbones. Joel sighs, his face contorted into a look of contemplation.

“I-I can’t, darlin’. I want to, trust me, I really want to,” Joel engulfs both of your hands in his own and presses them to his heart. He is searching your eyes, for some sign of reluctance, but all he can find is pure lust.

Your hands travel south, skimming his clothed abdomen, over his soft belly, until your fingers hitch on his waistband, his words contradicting the growing bulge in his jeans. You run your nails side to side under the band of his boxers, making him visibly shudder. Then you lean in while standing on your tiptoes, and you gently place an open-mouthed kiss on his neck.

Joel grunts at that. All reason leaving him the moment your plush lips touch his bare skin, “Fuck it,” Joel grabs you by the jaw and kisses you hard. It’s electric, the kiss knocking you into stone-cold sobriety. With his other hand, he grabs you by the waist and starts leading you backwards to the edge of the bed.

When the back of your knees hit the mattress, you pull Joel down with you onto the white duvet. Joel breaks the kiss to admire your exposed chest, “Fuuuuck, baby, you’re so beautiful.” Joel takes one of your tits in his mouth, swirling his tongue around the sensitive nub, while his hand pinches and plays with your other nipple. He removes his mouth from your tit with a loud pop, moving to the other one with the same treatment.

“F-fuck, Joel, need more, please,” you’re whining and writhing beneath him. It feels so good but you need his hands in your lower region now or you might explode. Joel peels off the rest of your dress, leaving you in small spandex shorts over your fishnet stockings. With one swift motion, Joel discards the tight shorts onto the floor.

Joel can barely form a thought as he looks at the sight before him, “No panties, baby?” Your pussy is bare beneath your stockings, making Joel salivate at the obscene vision.

“Please, Joel, please. Need you so bad. Wanted this for s-so long, I touch myself thinking about you,” you are on the verge of tears, aching to be touched where you need it most, but Joel is just gawking, taking pride in how he makes you squirm. Joel stands from the bed, leaving you confused and visibly more upset, “W-what are you doing?”

“Show me, baby.” Joel has a smug smirk on his face as he watches you grasp what he’s implying.

“Wha-what?” You are baffled, you are mostly naked, sprawled out on your bed for Joel to take you however he pleases and he’s asking to watch you touch yourself?

“Show me how I make you feel good, angel. Wanna see your pretty little fingers fuck that tight pussy.” The brashness of Joel’s words make you audibly moan. Instead of taking the black fishnets off, you start to rub yourself through the holes over your clit. You never break eye contact with Joel, gathering the slick between your folds and pushing a single finger in, using the heel of your hand to stimulate your clit.

Your eyes rake over Joel’s chest, his shirt taut against his burly stature. With just a few thrusts of your fingers, you’re close, it’s the fastest you’ve ever approached an orgasm, but Joel palming himself through his jeans while he watches you get off is unbelievably hot.

The coil in your lower belly snaps and your eyes roll back, you’re chanting Joel’s name like a prayer as you fuck yourself through your climax.

Joel groans and quickly approaches you on the bed, capturing you in a deep, passionate kiss before pulling back, “That was so hot, baby, nearly had me cummin’ in my damn jeans. I gotta taste you.” Joel trails kisses down your sternum, to your abdomen, to your mound, and stops just before your most sensitive area. He looks at you for approval, you furiously nod your head, eager for whatever he has in store for you. Next thing you know, he is ripping the fabric of your stockings that covers your pussy with no effort at all.

“Look at that pretty pussy, all for me. It’s mine,” the hunger in Joel’s eyes is unlike anything you’ve ever seen before, all-consuming and animalistic.

“All yours, Joel. Fuck! All y-yours,” you tug at his hair, grounding yourself with the soft feel of his brown curls just to confirm that you aren’t dreaming.

He starts with a long stripe along your folds, gently prodding his tongue into your entrance. You’re still so sensitive, your thighs are shaking as he holds them down over his broad shoulders. He’s sucking and slurping you, twirling his tongue over your sensitive nub every so often. He’s taking his time, learning what pleasures you most, experimenting with different techniques. He is memorizing the way your pussy feels throbbing against his tongue, how you subtly grind your hips onto his nose to chase your high. You taste so sweet, like nectar dripping from a ripe peach, he could lick and suck and fuck you with his tongue all night.

Joel is relentless, eating you in earnest, he removes his hand from the grasp on your thigh and brings two thick fingers to your mouth. You obey his command, taking both fingers in your mouth, hollowing your cheeks and using your tongue to lubricate them, the taste of Joel blanketing your taste buds. Joel removes his fingers from your mouth and places them at your entrance, sliding in one digit with ease and fucking you slowly before adding a second. He is knuckles deep in your pussy and his fingers are much bigger than yours, stretching you with a delicious burn.

“Baby, you’re so fuckin’ tight, fuuuck,” Joel comes up for air, never letting up the pace of his fingers entering and leaving you.

The rough callouses on his fingers provide a whole new sensation. It’s overwhelming in the best way possible. Every ridge a foreign sensation that has you reeling. He suddenly crooks his fingers to hit the spongey spot in your pussy, sending you to cloud nine. He knows just the right places to focus his fingers that have you bucking your hips up. When he returns to sucking your clit, you feel yourself teetering on the edge of your second orgasm.

“You’re so close, baby, I can feel it. Let go f’me,” your body obeys Joel’s words and you unravel before him, letting your whimpers and moans roar through the four-walls surrounding you. Joel slurps up every drop of your nectar like a man starving. You push his head away at the full-body feeling of overstimulation.

“Oh my god, Joel. Holy fuck. I need to suck your cock, please,” Joel gets up from the bed and you sit at the edge, immediately reaching out to undo his belt. He helps you undress him, tossing his shirt, jeans and boxers aside with the pile of your clothes laying on the floor. His cock springs to attention, his tip weeping and red. He’s big, much bigger than anyone you’ve been with before.

The shock must be present on your face when Joel takes your chin between his thumb and forefinger and tilts your head up to meet his eyes, “Don’ worry baby, we’ll make it fit,” he glides his thumb over your plump lower lip then leans in for a gentle kiss, a silent gesture of reassurance.

Your nimble fingers find his shaft, the skin feels silky beneath your touch, your fingers barely touching as they wrap around the girth of him. You gather the precum leaking from his tip and spread it along the length of him. You pool your saliva and hold eye contact with Joel as you let a thick string of spit dribble from your lips to the tip of his cock. You spread it slowly up and down the length of his dick.

He throws his head back and hisses, “Shiiiit, that’s it, good girl. Get my cock nice and wet for that pretty little mouth of yours. Open up,” at Joel’s request, you part your lips and flick your tongue over his slit before wrapping your lips around the fat tip.

Joel grabs a fistful of your hair at the nape of your neck and gently guides his dick further into your mouth until he hits the back of your throat. You release your hand from the rest of his shaft and brace yourself on his muscular thighs as he slowly starts to fuck your throat. You are breathing through your nose, trying to swallow him further with each thrust.

You peer up at Joel through wet eyelashes, admiring the look of sheer bliss on his face. His other hand is lightly pressing the base of your throat, feeling his cock go in and out.

With one swift thrust of his hips, he holds his cock in place down your throat. You are gagging, tears streaming down your face from the pressure and your red lipstick is smeared everywhere but your lips. You can’t help but touch yourself listening to Joel’s grunts and heavy breathing.

“This turn you on, babygirl? You like your throat getting stuffed with this big cock? Hm?” Joel releases you from his grip to let you answer. A string of spit and precum connect your lips to the tip of Joel’s cock. You are gasping for air, holding yourself upright with one hand on Joel’s thigh, and still rubbing your clit with the other.

You can barely form a coherent sentence, “Y-yes, I l-love it, J-Joel, s-so h-hot,” Joel chuckles, pulling you up by the armpits and meeting you halfway in a sloppy kiss, all teeth and tongue. He guides you to lay back on the bed, hovering over you, holding himself up on his forearms.

“Baby, you got a condom somewhere ‘round here?” Joel starts to reach for your bedside table, you grab his wrist to stop him.

“No, Joel, wanna feel you,” you guide his hand to your breast and place a kiss on his jawline.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, darlin’.”

Joel fists his cock and brings it to your clit, lightly tapping the bundle of nerves, making you moan. He drags the tip through your folds, gathering your slick before slowly inserting the head of his cock into your entrance. Your face contorts with pleasure and pain, he’s barely in and you feel the stretch.

“You okay, baby?” Joel cradles your face with his large calloused hand and searches your eyes, a look of concern washed over his features.

“Yes, yes. Keep going, please,” you plead with Joel. Joel nods his head and places a soft kiss to the tip of your nose. He goes slow, you can feel every ridge and vein of his dick as he sinks into you further. The massive stretch of his girth burns so good.

When he bottoms out, you can feel him in your guts. You’re so full of him, so consumed by him in every way. He stills, letting you adjust to the size of him. The burning you feel quickly fades and you’re left craving more.

“Move, baby. Please, Joel…move,” Joel starts with shallow thrusts, examining your expression with each movement. He loves the way you catch your bottom lip between your teeth to contain your moans. He basks in the way your sweat mingles with his, a way of marking you as his own. His primal instinct takes over and he pulls out completely before plunging into you hard. Your pussy is squeezing his cock with each deep thrust.

The mixture of sex and Joel’s musk fills the air, you’re so close to him, you can see a drop of sweat forming at his hairline. His curls stick to his forehead and his lips are red and puffy. His mouth hangs open as he watches where your bodies meet, his shoulder muscles are flexing each time he fucks into you. Just the picture of him before you can send you into oblivion.

Joel brings his thumb to your clit and starts rubbing it in small circles. Your eyes roll back, you feel the white hot fire burning in your lower belly.

“Nuh uh, babygirl. Look at me when you cum. Wanna see those pretty eyes,” Joel’s words shoot straight to your core, and when you meet his gaze, you completely lose it. Your climax hits you like a truck, it completely consumes you, sending you to another dimension.

You can’t contain the noises that emerge from you, it’s a string of incoherent curses and Joel, Joel, Joel, Joel. As you come down from your high, everything is blurry, except for Joel. He looks so fucked out, watching you expose yourself to him in the most vulnerable of ways.

Joel suddenly pulls out, scoops you up and tosses you down onto your belly, “Get on your hands and knees f’me, baby,” you scramble onto all fours and arch your back, looking over your shoulder at Joel. “Jus’ like that, fuuuck, fuckin’ perfect little slut for me, ain’t ya?” Joel calling you a slut makes your pussy clench around nothing. With no energy left to spare, you just moan in response.

He thrusts into you with no warning, making you yelp. At this angle, he feels impossibly deeper, the tip kissing your cervix each time he shoves you full of his cock. Joel’s grip is bruising on your hips, sure to leave marks that will fade to purple by the morning. His pace is frantic, sending your body into overdrive. Every one of your nerve endings feels like they’ve been lit on fire, the overstimulation sending you into a fucked out daze.

Joel grabs you by the hair and yanks you up into a vertical position, his hand snakes around your throat while his other arm is secured at your waist. You can feel his coarse stubble on the shell of your ear, his lips whispering filthy words that make your pussy pulse around him. The room is spinning, your only hold on reality is the feeling of Joel surrounding you in his strong embrace.

Joel’s fingers find your overstimulated clit, he’s pinching and rubbing, making you wriggle in his tight grip.

“One more for me, you can do it, baby. Can you be my good girl?”

“I-I c-can’t,” your pleas fall on deaf ears, Joel doesn’t let up in the slightest.

“Yes, you can, baby. You’re alright, I gotcha. One more, that’s all I need,” you just nod in response, letting yourself feel every sensation lighting you on fire.

Joel’s lips find your pulse point, he begins sucking and biting, then licking and soothing each mark. You feel him everywhere and it’s too much. Your whole body tenses as your fourth orgasm of the night takes over your body. Joel has to hold you upright as your body convulses and your vision goes white.

As you feel your climax nearing an end, Joel’s thrusts become sloppier and start to falter.

“I’m gonna cum, baby. Where d’ya want me?”

“Inside, please, Joel. ‘M on the pill. Want you to fill me up,” at the sound of those words falling from your lips like sweet honey, Joel stills inside of you, whimpering and moaning in your ear. You feel the thick ropes of cum coat your walls and drip down the inside of your thigh.

Joel pulls out with a hiss, the action leaving you feeling incredibly empty. He falls onto his side on the bed, taking you with him. You turn in his arms to face him, admiring how peaceful he looks.

You relish in this moment, noting the way your bodies are intertwined. The sound of Joel’s heartbeat rings in your ears and settles in your memory. You mindlessly draw hearts on Joel’s chest with your pointer finger. He stares at you through hooded eyes, on the verge of sleep.

“What are you thinkin’ about, beautiful girl?” Joel kisses your forehead, you feel him smile against your skin.

You giggle, giddiness consumes you, “Jus’ thinkin’ about how you just ruined every other guy for me,” it’s a true statement, but you aren’t disappointed in the slightest. This is all you want, now and forever.

“I ain’t lettin’ any other guy come near you again. You’re mine now, sweet girl.” Joel pulls you closer against his chest and kisses the top of your head, inhaling your scent, basking in it.

A toothy smile creeps onto your face, “I’m yours, Joel.”

—

a/n: if you made it this far—hi! thank you!!! this is my first time ever writing smut so please be kind :,) sending you so many hugs and kisses <3

taglist (i just used my taglist for willow im sorry if you didn’t want to be tagged):

@ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @alejaa-a @cool-iguana @littleshadow17 @planet-marz1 @alyhull @joeldjarin @lizzyervs @joeldjarin @casa-boiardi @loveisacowboyyy @thegrlwholivedd @ashleymsnodgrass @ilovepedro @dilfspitdrinker @bastardmandennis @breakfastatjoels @gracieheartspedro @chaotic-mystery