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submattsmxmmy · 2 months ago

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roughdom!stepbro!chris x bratty!stepsis!reader

🖤 content warning: 🖤 smut, stepsibling kink, jealousy, posessiveness, praise/degradation, nipple play, oral(f!receiving), rough sex, forbidden love, fluff at the end

🖤 summary: 🖤 chris throws a party while your parents are out of town without telling you, and you get revenge on him by wearing your sluttiest outfit and dangling yourself in front of his friends

hiiii, it's @ariestrxsh, and this is my second account ! if you're not into stepcest, that's totally fine. don't like? don't read. sorry, mom. sorry, god. and sorry, chris sturniolo, if you ever read this depraved piece of writing.

dividers by @/strangergraphics

holdyourbreath

chapters: | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 |

"You've gotta be fucking kidding me," you mumbled under your breath as your tires rolled to a stop in front of your house. You'd just gotten off a double at the local diner you worked at, and now that it was nearly 10 p.m., you wanted nothing more than to take a hot shower and go to bed.

However, the loud music that was coming from your living room and the several parked cars on your street indicated to you that that wasn't happening any time soon. Of course, Chris had decided to throw a party while your parents were out of town. You shouldn't have expected anything less.

You rolled your eyes and cut the engine, slamming your car door once you got out. A bunch of Chris' friends were wandering in and out of the front door as you approached your home. "Excuse me," you said with an attitude as you pushed past a few men who were blocking the entry way.

As soon as you set foot in your living room, you could smell the weed wafting through the air. You started immediately looking for your stepbrother so you could give him a piece of your mind and ask him what the hell he was thinking.

You recognized some of the people at the party from Chris' friend group, and you immediately braced yourself when Chris' asshole best friend, Jackson, approached you. You could tell that he'd always been into you, and each time he interacted with you, he got more desperate.

"Hey, it's been a while. Can I grab you a drink?" He asked, looking you up and down and clearly trying to hit on you. You scoffed and gave him a tight lipped smile. "You know, I'm really not in the mood right now. I worked a double today, and Chris kind of threw this party without telling me."

"Come on, let me get you a drink, and we can go somewhere more private and talk. You just need to relax a little," Jackson said, pushing a strand of your hair behind your ear. Oh yeah, just relax. That's a woman's favorite thing to be told to do. Must be such a ladies man, you sarcastically thought to yourself.

"Get me a drink, and I'll throw it in your face," you retorted, swatting his hand away and narrowing your gaze at him. You had half a mind to tell him that if Chris ever found out that he was trying to get into your pants, he'd be dead, but after that little relax comment, you decided it'd be more fun to not even mention it and let him dig himself into a hole.

By the time you'd reached the kitchen, you were fuming. Your entire house was a mess, trash and empty bottles of alcohol littering nearly every surface. Your eyes danced over to some boy lighting up a joint in the corner or the room, and you snapped.

"Hey! You can't smoke in here!" You exclaimed, approaching him and pulling the joint out of his mouth. You tucked it behind your own lips as you barged out your backdoor in search of Chris.

That's when you saw him - your annoying, cocky, and deplorable older stepbrother who was shot gunning a tall can of beer while a group of people stood around him, cheering him on. You took a long drag from the joint you'd just confiscated and glared in his direction, thinking about what idiots college boys were when they all got together.

As if he could feel your angry stare, he turned around to face you, his eyes lighting up as he did. "Hey, sis. Bet you're glad to be done with work. I see you're already having fun, huh?" He asked, walking towards you and motioning towards the joint you held between your two fingers.

"No, I took this away from some moron who was lighting up in our house! I just took a couple hits for your sake so I don't fucking kill you," you snarked at Chris. "Woah. You really know how to have a good time," Chris sarcastically chuckled.

"We need to talk," you said through clenched teeth, grabbing his arm as you dragged him to a secluded spot on the side of your house. "What? You can't even wait until we get upstairs before you jump on me?" Chris teased you, smirking, which earned another eye roll from you.

"Chris! What the hell are you doing!? You know mom and dad are gonna be able to smell the weed your fucking friend lit up?" You responded with anger. "C'mon, they're not gonna find out," Chris replied, softly brushing his thumb against your cheek. "They're gone until Monday night. I'll air out the house tomorrow, hmm?" He said calmly and sweetly, looking into your eyes.

"Chris.. I was hoping we could have the house to ourselves tonight," you told him, pouting as you laid your hand seductively on his chest. "I had a really bad day. I was hoping you could make it better." Chris smirked at you, knowing how badly you were fiending for him despite being upset about coming home to some dumb party you never would've agreed to.

"Don't worry. We'll make plenty of time for that. Hell, I'll fuck you nice and hard upstairs right now if ya want," Chris cooed, leaning in as he took the joint from you and took a drag from it. "With all these people here? What if someone sees us go upstairs together?" You wondered, glancing around to make sure no one was within earshot.

"Then it won't be weird, because we both live here," he smirked, blowing a puff of weed smoke out of the side of his mouth. "Maybe, Chris.." you said, considering it. "But I'm really mad at you right now! I just wanna get out of this stupid uniform and take a nice, long hot shower," you told him, fiddling with the strings of your apron that was still tied around your waist.

"Okay, go do that. I'll be wherever you need me to be when you're done," he whispered, leaning in and kissing your forehead. You hated how much it made you melt when he did that.

Sometimes, you wanted to hate Chris, but there was something so charming about him, especially when he knew you were mad at him. He knew how to quell your anger by saying all the right things. You took a few more puffs of the joint before passing it off to Chris.

"You're gonna spend the rest of the weekend making up for it." You jabbed your finger into his chest, but there was a playfulness to it like you weren't pissed at him anymore. A smug smirk played in the corner of his lips. He took the joint back from you, his eyes traveling to your ass as you turned around and walked away.

Chris emerged from the tucked away spot on the side of the house, joining his friends again. "Hey, where's your sister going?" Jackson asked, approaching Chris as he craned his neck, watching you head inside. "She's not my real sister," Chris corrected him, only realizing after saying it how weird it was that he'd made the clarification.

"Uh, she's goin' upstairs to change or somethin'," Chris shrugged, acting like he didn't care what you were doing. "Do you think I'd ever have a chance with her?" Jackson casually asked, starting to slur his words from how much he'd had to drink.

Chris responded with an agitated expression, a clenched jaw and a furrowed brow, jealousy immediately flooding his system as he looked up at his friend, eyes sharp like daggers. He'd never heard him say anything about being interested in you at all until tonight, and Chris was not happy about it. His friend grew uncomfortable with the silence, unable to read Chris' facial features.

"What? She's like, insanely hot. You think she'd ever sleep with me?" Jackson asked. "Not a fuckin' chance," Chris snorted, and he had to hold himself back from saying, and not even if I weren't fucking her. "What? Am I just not her type or something?" Jackson asked, his smile falling. "Somethin' like that," Chris responded, avoiding telling him the real reason.

"Well, what is her type?" Jackson asked, taking a sip of his drink. Chris took a long, final drag off of the joint he held between his two fingers, still studying his friend's expression and trying to determine if he was a threat or not.

"If you're not it, why do ya care? Just lay off, man. She's my sister, and you're my best friend. It's weird," Chris shrugged, trying to hold back his snarky remarks as he threw the spent roach on the sidewalk and crushed it under his shoe. "But like, not your real sister," Jackson pointed out, using Chris' own words against him, "so, why do you care?"

Chris' intense blue eyes flicked up at Jackson with hatred in them, and he balled his fists at his sides. "Just lay off, huh? I care because I care."

"I don't want to like date her or anything. Just want one night with her," Jackson candidly admitted, not realizing the chord he was about to strike. The only thing worse than Jackson wanting to date you was Jackson wanting to use your body for his own sexual gratification and nothing more.

Without thinking, Chris shoved him. Hard. Jackson's drink sloshed in his hand, and some of it splashed onto the cement, just barely missing his shoes. "Chris, what the fuck?" Jackson shot back, the whole incident drawing attention to the two of them. The guests outside fell silent, watching their altercation unfold.

"Stay the fuck away from her, and don't talk about her that way," Chris quietly muttered as he pushed past Jackson and headed back inside. Jackson stood there, confused, wondering what he'd said to set him off. It's not like Chris hadn't said worse things about women in front of him.

Once he was back in his kitchen, Chris angrily grabbed a beer from the fridge, his cortisol at an all-time high. He tried to brush it off, not wanting the incident to ruin his night. He was determined to still have a good time and not let anything else get to him - well, except for you, descending the stairs in the shortest, skimpiest black dress you owned, hair still wet from your shower.

He watched as a sea of eyes were drawn to you, all his friends drinking you in as their gazes danced over your slutty little dress and your exposed skin. He watched as you shot a few of the boys a suggestive smile, and by now, he'd had enough. He pushed through the crowd, bounding up the steps to you.

"What the fuck is this?" Chris asked, grabbing your wrist and motioning towards the black fabric that barely covered your ass. "You think this is some kinda fuckin' catwalk? Trying to show yourself off to all my friends?" Chris demanded, nostrils flared and an angry stare that bore into you.

"What? You don't think I look good?" You asked him, giving him a flirtatious smirk. You knew exactly what you were doing, and Chris was walking right into your trap. "You do look fuckin' good. That's the problem. Who're ya trying to show off for, hmm?" Chris asked, tightening his grip on your wrist.

"For you, silly," you replied, giving him a smug expression. "I don't buy it. Go change," Chris ordered you, his eyes dark with lust and jealousy as he looked you over one more time. You leaned in, your soft lips brushing against his ear lobe as you whispered, "Make me."

Without saying another word, he twisted your arm so that you had no other choice but to turn around. "Ow!" You cried out as he marched you back up the steps, tightening his hold on you. He dragged you into his bedroom, where there was a couple making out on his bed and starting to undress.

"This is my fuckin' room. Get the fuck out," Chris sternly said, picking up the girl's top that was thrown on his floor and shoving it into her arms. Both of them looked astonished, scurrying out of the room as they struggled to put their clothes back on. Chris immediately locked the door after he slammed it in their faces.

They were both too stunned to speak, exchanging an inquisitive look before they headed to the bathroom to finish what they'd started.

"What the fuck do ya think you're doing, huh?" Chris asked with a bit of hurt in his voice that he was trying to mask with anger as he pushed you up against his wall. He roughly grabbed your waist. "You're not tryin' to get Jackson's attention, are ya?"

You laughed at his accusation. "Fuck no. He wishes." You bit down on your lip, completely turned on by the way Chris wanted you all to himself. Chris searched your face for any deception, hoping that you were telling the truth.

"You'd never fuck him, would ya?" He wondered aloud, digging his fingers into your sides, almost afraid to hear your answer. "Not even if we were the last two people on earth," you responded without hesitation.

The words that left your lips were like music to his ears. With one hand still firmly on your hip, he reached up with his other, cradling your face, his touch almost gentle for a moment. "That's what I like t'hear," Chris whispered, leaning down towards you.

His glazed over blue eyes met yours for a moment before he closed the distance between your lips and his, his nose brushing against yours to tilt your face towards him. His kiss was hungry, aggressive, and full of need. Now both of his hands were reaching up, his fingers threading their way into your hair.

He softly moaned into your mouth, the sound sending a tickling vibration through your lips as he pressed his erection into your hip, pinning you between the wall and his body. You felt the reckless passion in his touch that he was always careful to reign in every other sexual encounter the two of you'd had.

This time was different. It was like he couldn't pull you close enough. Maybe it was the alcohol, the weed, or the fear that he might lose you to his best friend or some other man, but he couldn't hold back the sheer desire he felt for you.

He pulled away from your lips, nudging your head up so he could leave a trail of kisses down your neck. He slipped your strap off of your dress and watched as the flimsy fabric fell away to reveal one of your tits to him.

He leaned down and took it into his mouth, swirling his tongue around your stiff nipple and gently biting down on it. He tugged your other dress strap down with more fervor this time, moving to your other breast and wrapping his lips around your sensitive peak.

Your hands found their way to his head, holding him against your chest and combing through his hair with your fingers as he hummed against your nipple. The entire time he suckled on each breast, his perfect blue eyes never left yours.

He pulled away, nudging your legs open with his knee and spreading them apart. His right hand wandered below your waist, and he slowly traced his fingers along the inside of your thigh, smirking at you when he dragged them through a drop of arousal that had started leaking down your soft flesh.

"Fuck, you're dripping," he whispered lustfully. His hand continued its path up your dress, and his demeanor changed when he made direct contact with your heat. "No panties?" He hissed, spreading open your lower lips and roughly rubbing your clit with his middle finger. You arched your back off the wall, melting into his touch as a gasp left your lips.

"Oops. I guess I forgot to put them on," you innocently answered, but Chris knew better. "You came downstairs with this skimpy little outfit on and didn't even bother puttin' panties on underneath? Who's this for, huh?" He rasped, staring down at you possessively.

You didn't want any of his friends, but you couldn't help how much you liked the way he treated you when he thought that you did, so you didn't set the record straight. You gave him a half-hearted shrug, a smirk starting in the corner of your mouth.

"You really are a little fuckin' slut, aren't ya? Tryin' to show your pretty pussy off at my party? You've got some fuckin' nerve," he whispered into your ear. You could hear the territorial edge in his voice, turning you on even more.

Without warning, he dropped to his knees, staring up at you as he hiked up your dress. He kept his blue eyes fixed on you as he attached his lips to your throbbing clit. He quickly flickered his tongue over your bundle of nerves, watching your jaw fall slack and your head fall back softly against his wall.

"This pussy belongs to me. Say it," Chris demanded in a husky voice, pulling his mouth off of you just long enough to watch you squirm at the lack of touch. "It's all yours, Chris. My pussy belongs to you," you softly whimpered, running your fingers through his hair, guiding his head back between your thighs.

You tilted your head forward again, taking in the view of him licking a long stripe from your hole to your clit, wrapping his lips around it again and beginning to suck. Chris lifted your right leg, throwing it over his shoulder, the heel of your shoe resting on his back while he ate you like a man starving.

He had both his hands on your ass, pulling you down onto his face as you started to grind against his tongue. You could already feel your legs starting to tremble, nearing the edge as Chris expertly worked his mouth on you.

Before you could finish, he moved his hands to your hips again, pulling his head away. "Turn around, fuckin' slut," Chris ordered you. You obediently listened, pressing your cheek up against the wall.

Chris gently ran his fingertips along your outer leg from your high heel all the way up to your hip before pushing your dress up even further and revealing your perfect ass to him. He grabbed a handful of each cheek, admiring the way curve of your back and the way you were bent over, inviting him to do whatever he wanted to you.

He spread you open again, drinking in the view of your slick folds and your drooling hole. You gasped and smiled as you felt him spit on your cunt and then start massaging his saliva into your sensitive flesh with the pad of his thumb. He chuckled at your reaction before he leaned in and started eating your pussy from the back, moaning to himself like he was devouring his favorite meal.

"Chris.." his name fell from your lips as you peered back over your shoulder at him. You pressed your hands firmly up against the wall, trying to stabilize yourself. You arched your back further, sticking your ass out and giving Chris easier access to your throbbing clit. You felt him drag his tongue along your folds, periodically slurping up your juices.

He released his grip on your left cheek, raising his hand a few inches and then delivering a harsh smack followed by a rough grab, causing you to jump and squeal and leaving a painful sting on your sensitive skin.

Your body started to tremble again, feeling the tip of his nose pressing against your entrance as he alternated between kissing, licking, and sucking. You were on the verge of losing control, Chris' name pouring from your lips along with a slew of profanities. You were just about to finish when you felt him pull away.

"No, no, no!" You cried out desperately, tears pricking the corners of your eyes at the sudden withdraw of sensation when you were so close.

You let out a relieved sigh as you heard the sound of him fiddling with his belt and his zipper. You felt his mushroom-shaped tip slowly dragging up and down your slit, the warmth of his hot breath against your neck, and the feeling of his hands as he clasped your wrists and kept them pinned against the wall.

"Tell me who ya belong to," he said huskily into your ear. Before you could answer, you felt the jolt of his hips, breaching your entrance and stretching you around his fully hard cock. "C'mon. Be a good girl and tell me who owns this pussy," he reiterated, his voice softer this time.

"You do, Chris. All yours," you managed to get out. He wasn't as concerned with going fast as much as he was going hard and deep. Every time he drove his hips forward, slamming them into you, you let out a desperate whimper. He could feel your ass recoil against him with every thrust.

His left hand left your wrist and snaked around your throat, pulling you off of the wall, and he wrapped his right arm around your waist, pulling you back against him. "Good girl," he whispered into the crook of your neck as he started kissing and biting down on your soft flesh.

You tilted your head, giving him better access, feeling his lips and his teeth along your sensitive skin while he fucked you from behind. Chris usually liked to tease you, make you beg for it, but he couldn't stop himself this time.

Your breath hitched in your throat as he started thrusting in and out of you at an irreverent pace, the grip of his fingers tightening around your neck. "Say you're mine," Chris purred. "I'm yours, Chris," you moaned as you started to come undone, clenching around his length.

He held onto you tightly, fucking you through your orgasm and the aftershocks as your whole body started to shake against him. "That's it. Cum all over my cock," Chris whispered as he started to pulse inside of you. He pumped you full of his cum, softly whimpering into your ear as he finished.

His thrusts slowed to a stop, giving your body a final squeeze before he released you from him grasp and pulled out of you. You turned around, and the two of you stood there breathless for a moment, you leaning with your back against the wall, and Chris, towering over you. The two of you exchanged a dazed look.

Chris liked the dynamic between the two of you, the way you acted out just so he could put you in your place. However, he'd be lying to himself if he said he was okay with having you prance around like that in front of his friends. It bothered him that in their eyes, you were available. Single.

It killed him that he couldn't show you off, have you under his arm, and pull you close and kiss you when he saw other guys checking you out. It was a love that was too forbidden. You had to keep each other a secret.

He reached up and stroked your cheek with a softness in his expression and something else that looked a bit like love. He leaned in and locked his lips onto yours, kissing you passionately one more time.

"Okay, now, I mean it. Go change. I'll meet you back downstairs," Chris whispered, looking into your eyes. His tone was serious, not looking for a fight.

"Chris," you said, placing your hand on his before he could pull away. "I don't wanna go back downstairs. I want everyone to leave. I want you to sleep in my bed with me tonight," you begged, batting your lashes at him.

Normally, he'd scoff, roll his eyes, and make some comment about how the only reasons he'd ever sleep in your bed is if he fell asleep there after the two of you had fucked. However, this time was different.

"Of course," he said sweetly, still cradling your face and running his thumb thoughtfully along your cheekbone. "I'm gonna go tell everyone that someone called the cops or somethin'. They'll all dip," he chuckled, pressing his soft lips to your forehead.

"You better," you whispered, looking up at him with hearts in your eyes, unable to contain how smitten you felt. "Ya gotta stop looking at me like that. You're makin' me sick," Chris replied, but he didn't sound like he meant it, especially because he was looking at you the same way.

Chris helped you fix your dress and joked with you about needing to wear it around the house more often. You quietly unlocked the door and carefully stepped out after making sure no one was around. You slipped into your own room, thankfully, without anyone seeing you do the walk of shame from your stepbrother's bedroom to yours at the other end of the hallway.

Chris managed to get everyone to leave rather quickly, watching them all scatter like roaches when he yelled one simple word: "Cops!"

Less than an hour later, Chris was spooning you in your bed, his legs intertwined with yours as the two of you laid tangled in your sheets. He had his arms wrapped around your frame and his lips pressed to your cheek as he peppered your face in kisses.

Both of you were giggling as Chris recounted to you the way he almost fought Jackson over the comment he'd made about wanting you. "Don't worry, Chris. I'm not actually interested in any of your friends, especially not Jackson," you assured him, closing your tired eyes. Chris squeezed you tighter, nuzzling into the crook of your neck.

"I fuckin' love you," the words tumbled out of his mouth, his hot breath hitting your skin. He froze at his own admission. He'd known for months now that he loved you, but the vulnerability of saying out loud sent him into a mental spiral.

He hadn't meant to. It just came out.

He laid there in silence for what felt like an eternity, worrying that you didn't feel the same way and scared that you'd call the whole arrangement off if you knew how he really felt. After all, he was your stepbrother. It was wrong for the two of you to be sexually involved, but romantically, too?

"I love you, too, Chris," you nonchalantly replied as if it were a completely normal phrase for you to say to him. He smiled to himself, relieved that you reciprocated his feelings and that it didn't have to be some monumental, dramatic thing.

Chris lightly ran his fingertips over your arm in a soothing manner as you drifted off to sleep, and he held you the whole night.

#sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x you #christopher sturniolo #dom chris sturniolo #stepbro!chris

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fayesia · 2 months ago

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Greasin' the engine shaft pt.2

pervyold!Joel x younger!reader

Part 1: here

Music blasted through the workshop, your head bent under the hood of a car while you hummed along to the song. Lifting your head, you let out a yawn. This week had been long, and you couldn't wait to get drunk at the bar and rot in bed through the weekend.

Passing the front of the shop in search of a rag, you saw Joel talking to a customer, over their shoulders, your eyes locked. His eyes sharpened, and the corner of his mouth upturned into a smirk, lowering your head you sped past.

To say things had been awkward between the two of you would be the understatement of the century. At least on your side, Joel seemed to be revelling in this situation. Meanwhile, you wanted to die in a hole every time you came to work.

"Everything all right, honey."

The nickname stung harsher after that night.

Every endearment gave you flashbacks, the memory replaying in your mind.

His fingers twisting in you as his palm slapped against your clit.

His big hands tangled in you hair holding you in place while he fucked your face.

You wanted to feel disgusted, even mortified by it, but currently standing in the shops storage room, your highs shifted together to quell the rising pressure. Sifting through the numerous boxes of files and paper towels, you spotted a box of new cloths in the back of the shelf.

Reaching into the middle shelf, your body bent forward, fingers brushing against the edge of the cardboard as you tried to get a grip on it.

Jolting in shock, your movements stilled at the presence of someone behind you.

"God, now you're just teasin' me hun"

"Joel. Quit it."

You tried turning your head but the space of the shelf was too tight.

A shiver ran through your spine as Joels calloused fingertips, ran down the sides of your waist, his cold skin coming in contact with the open space between the hem of your tight singlet and jeans.

"Let me go, Joel, come on, don't be a dick"

"Oh baby, don't act like it's not on purpose, the whole shy act."

He scoffs in annoyance.

"A few days ago, you were falling apart on my fingers. Don't try to deny it. Had you moaning for the whole block to hear."

You wanted to reply with something quick and snarky, but your brain went blank as Joels hands caressed your ass. His fingers feeling you up through the denim, dangerously close to your crotch.

"Please, Joel,"

"What is it, sweetheart?"

His condescending gentle tone contrasted the harsh rubbing of his groin against your ass. You could feel him hardening, and you hated to admit, but for a second, the memory of him in your mouth flashed in your head.

His thick, heavy cock, the veins running down it. The tip was so pretty, dripping with precum, you couldn't forget the taste of him even if you wanted to.

Kicking your feet out, you tried pushing Joel, but the weight of his body against you only got heavier.

He now stood between your legs, his foot kicking at your ankles to push them apart.

One of his hands slid under your shirt, and you felt sick. The guilt in your head fought with the need of your core. The coldness of his fingers as they groped your chest pebbled your nipples.

He groaned as he practically humped your ass while fondling your tits.

At this point the friction of his bulge pushing the denim material of your jeans against your clit left your mouth open, fighting the release of any sounds.

But he'd heard that one whine of yours, and he knew.

You were fucked.

Joels hands tugged your jeans down to your knees, his pupils dilated at the sight of your pink lace thong clinging to your pussy. The material damp enough for him to basically see through it, the cloths material shaped to your pussy.

You tried to wiggle away from his touching, but that only spurred him on.

One of Joel's hands came down to slap your asscheek, the sting followed by his fingers digging through your soft flesh. He wanted to mark you, make you never forget who truly owned your body.

Tears ran down your face by now, mumbling for him to please stop, but Joel could barely hear over the blood rushing from his head to his other head.

Multiple slaps rained down on your behind. The skin was hot and flushed, definitely marked red. Joel slapped hard. Working with his hands for more than forty years gave him more strength than he could control.

It hurt, but not as much as it aroused you.

You hated it.

Hated that even though he hurt you like this, your pussy would still be wet when he checked.

And he did.

When he ripped your underwear down to your jeans, he saw the strands of wetness splitting off the material. The way your pussy shined under the sharp white lights he installed into the storage room just this weekend.

His groan almost sounded like a growl.

"Been waiting for this baby"

"Spent all weekend thinking about this dripping pussy, bet you thought about me too huh"

You had. You had gone home after that night, and in the shower, your mind drifted back to it. Under the shower head, you climaxed.

The water washed away the dirt from the shop and the dirty thoughts from your mind.

"Ngh no..didn't-didnt think of you"

"Oh sweet girl, you wound me, can't even give your old man a second thought"

His verbage reminded you of the truth. The reality that he was far too old to be doing this to you. For goodness sake, he started the shop before you were even conceived and celebrated its 20th anniversary when you were born.

It was wrong.

Disgusting and wrong.

So why were you dripping down your thighs.

Why, when Joel's fingers ran through your folds, were you leaving a mess behind.

Hearing the buckle of his belt and the zip on his jeans, you braced for what was to come.

Or rather for you to come.

His tip rubbed through your folds, it hit your clit and you couldn't help but moan.

Joel kept thrusting through you, prompting more high-pitched noises out of you, whines and moans mixed into one.

His fingers had a bruising grip on your hip, and his head fell back in pleasure.

Leveraging on your hips, he pulled you from the shelf, your feet ungracefully tripped on your jeans around your ankles, without Joel's arms holding you up, you were sure to have fallen.

Sweat dripped down from your forhead from being in such a tight space for so long that your breathing was heavy and eyes widened with desire.

"Ok baby, deep breath for me"

You wanted to shake your head, fuck, you wanted to scream no, but before you even had the chance his dick was inside you.

Just halfway in, before Joel had to tighten his hold around you to stop you from stumbling forward.

A cry left your mouth but no one else was working to hear you.

"It's ok sweetie, relax for me, make it easier for both of us if you just breathe a little."

"Nghn I can't, too big Joel please"

Your hands held onto the edge of a shelf, Joel's grip returning to your hip to drive himself deeper in you, the other one made its way to your clit. His fingers came in contact with the wetness collected around his base and your opening, collecting it to rub your clit.

His fingers had you fumbling for words, only noises able to leave your mouth.

Finally Joel's greying pubic hair was flush with your pussy, he stilled to let you get used to the stretch, and tangled his hand into your hair.

You pulsed around him before slowly moving forward and back, thrusting yourself upon his dick in small motions.

"Yeah, just like that baby, use me, use your daddy, can feel you enjoying it"

In any other situation, with any other person, the nickname would've disgusted you.

But with Joel.

It was different.

Because Joel was daddy.

With his broad shoulders and strong arms. The salt and pepper hair both on his head and downstairs.

His deep southern accent as he spoke.

But most specifically, his age compared to yours.

You could still be in college, and he was just about reaching the age of retiring and settling into a nursing home.

The image of him sat beside a grandma knitting almost made you laugh, except a shift in Joel's hips had you shutting up quickly.

His grip on your hair tightened and forced you to arch your back while his other hand gripped tightly onto the flesh of your ass. He'd sped up now, sharp thrust that reached deep inside you, hard enough that his balls slapped against your clit, the noises of skin against skin filling the room.

God, you hadn't thought about Joel's balls since that night, the way he had them stuffed in your mouth, your spit making a mess everywhere. You could only recall the weight of them holding all that cum which he covered you in a few moments later.

Snapping you back to reality was a hard slap to your ass. Unconsciously, you had been moaning, and each thrust of Joel's hip bought a new noise out of you.

Pulling you upright flush against his chest, Joel's hands mauled at your tits, he loved watching them bounce while he fucked you. Something he thought about often when you were bent over the hood of a car. A sight he'd gotten used to remembering at night with his jeans unzipped while he lay in bed.

His beard scratched into the side of your neck, the mostly grey hair tickling your ear as he whispered dirty words to you.

"That's it, baby, so tight, sure you ain't a virgin, sweetheart?"

"Best fucking pussy I've been in, means a lot from an old man like me"

"Yeahhhh keep clenching around me, she's just tryna suck me in ain't she"

"Fucking come for me baby, come for daddy"

Mewling back your arms wrapped around Joel's neck, his hand bent over your shoulder to snuggle into your neck while he ferociously thrusted upwards into you.

With one hand playing with your nipple, the other rubbed quick circles onto your clit.

"Godd, I'm coming fuck please-please"

With a outcry of daddydaddydadddy your eyes shut tight, flashes of white, and mouth hung open as you orgasmed. Joel licked a path up the side of your neck, his cock stilling deep in you as he felt your pussy clench around him.

"Yeah baby, daddy's gonna fill you up, nice and full of his cum, make me a real daddy huh"

You nodded, in all honestly barely understanding a word he said, your mind was broken, and your limbs like jelly.

So you could only stay limp in Joel's embrace as he pumped his cum in you, waiting for it to end for what felt like too long.

"So perfect sweetie, such a good girl for daddy"

Nodding along a whine left your lips when Joel pulled his soft dick from you, his release dripped down your thighs with some landing on the store rooms floor.

A stain. A tarnish. A reminder of what had happened.

Joel let go of you, your legs were weak, and you stumbled before softly kneeling on the ground, too weak to pull your jeans up. He had already returned to a state of dressed, simply zipping his jeans up and buckling his belt, while your thong and jeans were still tangled around your ankles. Your hair was definitely a mess, and you felt the trail of drool from your mouth down to your chin. He scratched the back of his neck, looking down at you.

"Uhh, I'll get some tissues. Let ya get dressed"

You didn't say anything.

He was a fucking dick. With a dick you loved fucking.

You closed your eyes, hearing his steps fade, pulling up your underwear and pants, before reaching to get that box of rags, tears stained your cheeks as you tried to wipe them. But more came rushing down, blurring your vision.

He could be a literal grandpa, and you've had more than enough trash hookups that ended worse than this.

So why the fuck were you feeling like this about your old pervy boss Joel fucking Miller?

#smut #oneshot #joel miller smut #the last of us #tlou2 #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller #the last of us smut

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dc-posting · 3 months ago

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au where there’s no huge dramatic reveal when Jason comes back. Instead he takes a more… unconventional approach.

It’s a rare sight, so many of the batclan together in the cave. Dick looks around at his mishmash family, trying to ignore the ache in his chest and the glaring hole missing from the picture before him.

Simultaneously, somewhere in a shitty apartment block in Crime Alley, Jason Todd logs on to the family streaming services and starts watching shit again.

Bruce gets emails about the new devices logging in, but he assumes one of the kids got a new phone or something. He looks up from his computer but nobody in the room is (visibly at least) on a device. He sighs and logs into Netflix, wanting to check if anyone has changed anything.

He pauses.

Jason. His profile name has changed. ‘Robin II :)’ has become ‘Batman’s Greatest Failure’ and-

He turns to his team, his children, his most trusted allies, furious. He clears his throat, turns the screen around, and… well… all hell breaks loose. To put it mildly. Accusations are flying, voices raise, things are quickly escalating past a point of control.

And then Dick gets an email from Letterboxd.

‘Jaybird has left a review for the first time in a while! Check it out?’

He feels his heart race as he clicks the link. It’s a review of a documentary.

‘The life and death of Jason Todd’

★ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

“Movie was shit. Inaccurate. Jason Todd sucked and the guy who played him made him too soft. Also they couldn’t have given the guy contacts? Brown eyes? Are you fucking serious?

Also he hated poetry, everyone knows he was into classic lit and long form novels.”

It’s so bizarre and so clearly his brother that he laughs.

The sound brings the cacophony of bats to a halt, all turning to stare at Dick.

“Did you do this?” Bruce Batman asks, his voice cold. Dick takes a moment to breathe. Getting into another screaming match with his father won’t solve anything. Not right now anyway. There’s time for that later.

“‘No. It’s him, he’s alive, B.” Dick hands over his phone.

Bruce stands frozen for what feels like an eternity.

Everyone’s eyes are on him, on Dick’s phone clutched in his shaking hands.

“Oracle-” He starts, and it’s the most unsure the kids have ever heard him. “-can you trace this? Can you- he logged in from a new device. Can you find out where it is? Please?” Bruce finishes, never taking his eyes off the screen. Dick is pretty sure it’s already timed out.

“I’ve got a location, I sent it to your gps.” Babs responds, zeroed in on the Batcomputer.

“Do not follow me.” Bruce orders darkly, pulling on his cowl and beelining for the Batmobile. Dick doesn’t even argue that Bruce is still clutching his phone.

He’s gone in a flash of smoke, only the echo of the engine and the smell of burning rubber remains.

Dick chances a glance at the rest of the vigilantes filling the cave.

“Well, it’s a very Jason thing to do.” The joke seems to break some kind of tension, and after a moment, laughter ripples through them.

It is a Jason thing to do.

They move in synch, gearing up and moving out.

After all, what’s the first thing you learn as Robin?

‘Nobody listens to Batman anyway.’

#dc posting #jason todd #dick grayson #bruce wayne #red hood #nightwing #batman #barbara gordon #oracle #dc #dc comics #batfam #batfamily #i know letterboxd doesn’t have notifications like that #suspension of disbelief #for the whimsy #okay?#under the red hood #< i guess

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subjectsix · 7 months ago

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KIP'S BIG POST OF THINGS TO MAKE THE INTERNET & TECHNOLOGY SUCK A LITTLE LESS

Post last updated November 23, 2024. Will continue to update!

Here are my favorite things to use to navigate technology my own way:

A refurbished iPod loaded with Rockbox OS (Rockbox is free, iPods range in price. I linked the site I got mine from. Note that iPods get finicky about syncing and the kind of cord it has— it may still charge but might not recognize the device to sync. Getting an original Apple cord sometimes helps). Rockbox has ports for other MP3 players as well.

This Windows debloater program (there are viable alternatives out there, this one works for me). It has a powershell script that give you a little UI and buttons to press, which I appreciate, as I'm still a bit shy with tech.

Firefox with the following extensions: - Consent-O-Matic (set your responses to ALL privacy/cookie pop-ups in the extension, and it will answer all pop-ups for you. I can see reasons to not use it, but I appreciate it) - Facebook Container ("contains" Meta on Facebook and Instagram pages to keep it from tracking you or getting third party cookies, since Meta is fairly egregious about it) - Redirect Amp to HTML (AMP is designed for mobile phones, this forces pages to go to their HTML version) - A WebP/AVIF image converter - uBlock Origin and uBlacklist, with the AI blacklist loaded in to kill any generative AI results from appearing in search engines or anywhere.

Handbrake for ripping DVDs— I haven’t used this in awhile as I haven’t been making video edits. I used this back when I had a Mac OS

VLC Media Player (ol’ reliable)

Unsplash & Pexels for free-to-use images

A password manager (these often are paid. I use Dashlane. There are many options, feel free to search around and ask for recs!). There is a lot that goes into cybersecurity— find the option you feel is best for you.

Things I suggest:

Understanding Royalty Free and the Creative Commons licenses

Familiarity with boolean operators for searching

Investing in a backup drive and external drive

A few good USBs, including one that has a backup of your OS on it

Adapter cables

Avoiding Fandom “wikias” (as in the brand “Fandom”) and supporting other, fan-run or supported wikis. Consider contributing if its something you find yourself passionate or joyful about.

Finding Forums for the things you like, or creating your own*

Create an email specifically for ads/shopping— use it to receive all promotional emails to keep your inbox clean. Upkeep it.

Stop putting so much of your personal information online— be willing to separate your personal online identity from your “online identity”. You don’t owe people your name, location, pronouns, diagnoses, or any of that. It’s your choice, but be discerning in what you give and why. I recommend avoiding providing your phone number to sites as much as possible.

Be intentional

Ask questions

Talk to people

Remember that you can lurk all you want

Things that are fun to check out:

BBSes-- here's a portal to access them.

Neocities

*Forums-- find some to join, or maybe host your own? The system I was most familiar with was vbulletin.

MMM.page

Things that have worked well for me but might work for you, YMMV:

Limit your app usage time on your smartphone if you’re prone to going back to them— this is a tangible way to “practice mindfulness”, a term I find frustratingly vague ansjdbdj

Things I’m looking into:

The “Pi Hole”— a raspberry pi set up to block all ads on a specific internet connection

VPNs-- this is one that was recommended to me.

How to use computers (I mean it): Resources on how to understand your machine and what you’re doing, even if your skill and knowledge level is currently 0:

This section I'll come back an add to. I know that messing with computers can be intimidating, especially if you feel out of your depth. HTML and regedits and especially things like dualbooting or linux feel impossible. So I want to put things here that explain exactly how the internet and your computer functions, and how you can learn and work with that. Yippee!

#old internet #computer tag #resource post

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cinnamongrl2006 · 3 months ago

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Ferrari driver!Jason Todd x Journalist!Reader⋅ ౨ৎ ‧₊ .ᐟ

a/n: here’s part two

warnings: Reader's appearance is not described but she is referred to as a woman, idk not much else?

Summary: It's your first weekend working at a f1 paddock and you interview Jason after a bad race.

────୨ৎ────

It was your first weekend in the formula one paddock after your internship at a newspaper. It was the first weekend you had an actual grown up job, the first weekend you couldn't fuck up. It was just your luck that you'd been selected to interview Ferrari driver!Jason Todd after his race.

Ferrari driver!Jason Todd had a very bad race, his pit stop lasted a second longer than it should've, his engineer called for team orders and he finished right outside the podium. If he'd overtaken his teammate at some point he'd be standing there, covered in champagne with a trophy in his hands and a medal around his neck.

But instead he pads over to the post race interviews, hair tousled from the helmet, pupils blown wide. His assistant steers him towards a reporter and he braces himself for the same sour, intruding questions as always. He doesn't look up from his hands, fidgeting with his watch and bracelets.

Ferrari driver!Jason Todd who is known to have a temper after a tough race, which unnerved you.

"Good morning, mr. Todd!" You greeted him with a poster smile and introduced yourself, stretching out a hand towards him. He shook your hand and straightened up in front of the camera readying for the turmoil to come.

"How was the race?" You asked, glancing down at your notes and back up, meeting his gaze. He grumbled under his breath but answered politely.

"We had a good start, getting both cars in the podium— I honestly think we could've won the race, or at the least get both cars in the podium, but...strategy is what it is. You win some, you lose some. We'll keep pushing."

You nod in acknowledgement.

"How do you mentally process the difference between a race well won and a race narrowly lost? Do you see it as a lesson, motivation or something else entirely?" You breathed as you pushed your microphone towards him.

Oh. He thought. That's a fucking good question. It wasn't the type of question the hours of Ferrari media training taught him to answer or deflect, it was different. It let him think.

Ferrari driver!Jason Todd is taken aback by your question. Your words cut through his foggy, scrambled mind like a block of butter. He opens his mouth as if to answer but he just sighs and closes it again.

He regards you with curiosity for a second before finally answering, "Well, to be fairly honest it depends on the race; it's not the same to finish fourth in a championship opener than after getting p1 the race before..." He hummed. "Yeah, I guess I do see it as motivation, us athletes need to strive to be better, that's how we make a living." He fucking winks at you.

You blink, startled, before laughing it off awkwardly.

You don't have time to process what's happening before Ferrari driver!Jason Todd is pushed away from you and onto another journalist. In the same manner, a short Japanese driver is shoved towards you, quickly.

Your eyes don't linger too much on Jason, and that's a shame, because you don't notice how his eyes stay glued onto you, how his gaze, so sharp, so blue, could cut a hole through your skull.

Ferrari driver!Jason Todd is not smitten, that's for teenagers. He's not blushing at a complete stranger who is not even looking in his general direction; or so he tells himself.

It takes him a persuasive phone call with Roy to muster up the courage to ask you out on a date.

Ferrari driver!Jason Todd runs into you in the hotel lobby (it's not like he's been pacing around it for the last hour) and invites you over to dinner with his friends. When you ask him why he grumbles a little and admits he was rude to you.

"You asked a good question, our time was cut short." He says, matter-of-factly.

"Well, yes, but—"

"I also think you're beautiful, is that good enough a reason?" He asks, leaning down closer to you.

────୨ৎ────

masterlist

co written with @prettywritergirl2 !!

#dc jason todd #jason todd drabble #jason todd fanfiction #jason todd x reader #jason todd smut #jason todd #f1 driver!jason todd #f1 au #racing driver au

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seat-safety-switch · 1 month ago

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If there's one thing I hate, and I think we can all agree on this, it's slow drivers. Folks, I'm just trying to get where I'm going. Why are you wasting my time, sitting in my lane, holding me up? If you don't know where you're going, just pull over and phone someone who does.

Have you been feeling like you have too much optimism and faith in the course of our civilization lately? It's probably because you haven't been driving much. After just five minutes driving in a straight line, you'll turn into a regressive, psychotic crank like the rest of the commuting rabble.

Recently, I was forced to walk places for a little bit. It's not my fault: blame whoever at Plymouth in the 1970s decided that cars need oil. And batteries. And engines without a hole in the block. Round tires. Functioning starters. A windshield that's not covered in "parking violator" shame stickers and impound receipts. Really, it's amazing that any of my several dozen Malaise Era sedans have ever run. Be that as it may, I needed some food from the grocery store, and so I had to walk there on my own.

Now, I've walked a pretty good distance before, usually because one of my cars broke down and I had to go home to get another. This is the first time when I've had to walk away from my house. I found the journey somewhat exciting, as soon as I got over the anxiety of not being surrounded at all times by a two-ton steel-and-rust cage. When I got there, I picked up my two-litre of Pepsi and my four-litre of milk, and turned around to head home. On the way back, I saw something amazing.

An enormous traffic jam had formed in my neighbourhood, thanks to two SUVs making kissy-face at the highway on-ramp. If this had happened while I was in my car, I would have been stuck here with the rest of them, swearing at their idiocy while keeping an eye on my water temp gauge. Instead, I was able to walk past the vast quantity of stranded traffic, and pick up the barely-leaking 12-volt car battery that had been ejected from the shattered mass of one of the cute utes. At road speed, I never would have noticed this. On foot? I was noticing all kinds of sweet garbage stuck in the gutters from various low- and high-speed crashes.

It took a little bit of rearrangement of my load in order to carry all this heavy, awkward junk all the way home, but I got there. That evening, after dinner, my Volare had a working starter battery again, courtesy of the Hyundai Whatever that had given its life attempting a low-speed merge into a Hyundai Somethingelse. That wayward battery was now ready to be devoured by whatever rat-chewed wire kept sparking against the floor whenever my fifty year old shitbox was parked in one spot for too long. I was ready to rejoin the commuting masses.

Did I learn anything from my momentary experience as a member of the human race, instead of the rat one? Yes. I probably should buy some shoes, because boy do my feet hurt.

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anaon-ash · 4 months ago

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☠︎︎🕸𖤐 𝐭𝐨𝐱𝐢𝐜 𖤐🕸 ☠︎︎

𝙃𝙖𝙢𝙯𝙖𝙝𝙏𝙝𝙚𝙁𝙖𝙣𝙩𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙘𝙓𝙍𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧! 𝙩𝙤𝙭𝙞𝙘 𝙚𝙭 𝙗𝙤𝙮𝙛𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙣𝙙 𝘼𝙐

Contains: Explicit language, Gaslighting, Use of pet names, Use of Y/N, Drugs/Alcohol, Smut (Established Relationship obviously)

Summary: Hamzah sits outside of your house at 2am and texts you from a text now number (you blocked him lol). He asks you to come outside and invites you over for a drink and a blunt and to talk, but you know exactly where this is really going and you fold anyways.

Authors note:THIS IS SUPERR LONG so im sorry, i was rlly scared to publish this as this is my first written work on tumblr so i really hope you all like it and let me know how you feel about it! enjoy it, freak

The quiet rumble of the engine of Hamzahs car reverberates throughout the silent neighborhood in the early hours of the night before it stops in front of your house. He picks up his phone and navigates to the text now app, his finger hovers above it, unsure if he should go through with his intentions tonight.

You and Hamzah struggle staying away from each other, you dated for 2 months before you had your first of MANY breakups, on and off. He was toxic, and that brought out the worst in you. It felt like it impossible to go a week without arguing and you could never really pinpoint if it was your fault or his, he’s a manipulator, possessive and controlling of you and you hate it. You hate that you can’t do anything, you hate that somehow ALL of your friends are bad for you, you hate how he talks to you, you hate how he hurts you and does something that makes it ok then you forgive him just as quickly as it happened. And you especially hate that you know all of this and somehow you keep falling for it.

That’s why you weren’t surprised when you heard a notification that woke you up at 2 am.

————————

Unknown Number

“Come outside.”

“Who is this?”

“You know exactly who this is, come outside y/n”

“I just want to talk.”

————————

“Oh my fucking god.”

You set your phone down and ran your hands through your hair, balling your fists up in the strands. You dont know if you can forgive him after what happened in your last argument that led up to yet another breakup.. And honestly…You dont know if you can take this splitting up and reconciliation cycle anymore either.

You drop your hands to your sides and sigh loudly.

“If i go out there… it’s going to be to end whatever we have going on… i can’t do this anymore.”

You sit up and grab your phone, sliding your feet into the slippers by your bed, they were soft and provided you something to use to ground yourself.. to remind yourself that this time, isn’t going to be like the last times..

You take a deep breath and walk downstairs, grabbing your house keys from your coffee table and softly closing and locking the door behind you. Stepping outside you feel the cold breeze of the beginnings of a blizzard.

It was dark, only the light from the lampposts outside and hamzahs headlights were visible. Slowly You began to walk to his car, psyching yourself up into being strong and setting boundaries for once.

You lightly tap on the window, and hamzahs gaze meets yours, the corners of his mouth pulling into a smirk before pressing the button to unlock the door.

“Hey.” his voice calm and laced with something softer than normal. “Hi hamzah.” You reply stedily, closing the door and plopping down into the seat.

You missed this car, it was an older beat up red honda with lord knows how many miles on it and lord knows how many memories. The cloth on the seats were covered in burn holes from all of the joints and cigarettes smoked in it, and it smelled like those same cigs poorly covered up by one of those little trees you put on your rear-view mirror.

You look around and you can still see the reminants of the stickers you put on his dash and notice he still has the poloroid picture of you and him still on his sun-visor.

Both of you sit in silence for a moment, simply taking each other in, he’s wearing black sweats and a stupid hoodie with the words“nap queen” on it. His hair is just finally starting to grow out after he shaved it and bleached it blonde, its definitely one of his best looks.

“How are you..?” He finally asks after a pause “Hamzah. please.. I came here to talk and talk only. Don’t try to make this into something it isn’t.” You cautioned, sounding more like you were trying to convince yourself more than him.

“I didnt want to feel like a divorced couple begrudgingly speaking to each other over the shared custody of their kids” Hamzah chuckled

“I was hoping this could be casual and we could maybe smoke a little” he smiled before pulling a joint and mini bottles of alcohol out of the middle console “And I have some shots too if you’re down.”

“I dont know hamzah..” You mumbled “Come on y/n.. This doesn’t have to be hard.” He pleaded, slightly tilting his head to the side and gazing into your eyes “we can take it easy..”

He was so good with his words, so good at convincing you of anything..

You bit the skin off your lip and looked away at the ground and thought about his proposal before you hesitantly agreed. “Fine. But im serious. im only here to talk about what happened and…”

You clench your jaw before stopping yourself from speaking.. There’s no way you can tell him you want to go no contact right now right off the bat.. Maybe after a joint and a few shots you’ll have a bit more courage.

“And?” he questioned. “Nothing.” You stated, before you took the 2 mini bottles of fireball from his hand and downed them, his eyes widened and looked at you clearly shocked “okay! yeah! that works.”

He quipped, placing the joint between his lips and lighting it cautiously. The lighter illuminated his features with a soft orange glow, highlighting his plump lips, his sharp jaw, and focused eyes. He takes a few puffs trying to get the ember to catch before handing it to you and placing his hand non-chalantly behind the headrest of your seat.

Hamzah watches intently as you take your first toke and inhale, the smoke filling your lungs almost without any control before you exhale, coughing and gasping before you grab the nearest room temperature half dranken waterbottle in his cupholder and guzzle it down.

You could see hamzah stupidly grinning in your peripheral vision at your reaction and you couldn’t help but to crack your first smile since you entered his car.

You felt the tension you first had, start to dissipate and the energy of the space changed into something else, something more relaxed. The weed and the alcohol were combining into something beyond you.

“There you go.. that’s the pretty girl I know..” Hamzah softly spoke, there was a permanent smile etched onto your face and you didn’t even realize it..he reached out and lightly took the joint from your fingers, your hands slightly grazing one another.

in your excited state, it felt like lightning, all your senses were amplified by 100 and you could feel.. everything. your ankles slightly exposed from your pjs, the breeze of the heater, the texture of the armrest, and hamzahs scent, you felt so much all at once, and you didn’t know how to handle it.

Hamzah puts the joint back into his mouth and takes a few more puffs before rolling down the window and putting it out on the outside of his door, You hiss at the temperature change, the harsh wind numbing the tips of your fingers and chilling the front of your face.

“sorry..” he replied, a lopsided grin tugging on the corners of his lips as the effects begin to take hold of him as well

“M’k lets talk…” You say, trying to remind yourself why you’re here. “More casual now.. according to your wishes.” You say sarcastically

“Yes.. more casually now.” He quips back “First… I wanted to say that im sorry for our fight.. And im sorry for the way that I talked to you.. I should’ve listened to you. And im sorry for lying to you too.. I wont even try to defend staying out so late and not telling you where I go, and im sorry for taking advantage of the trust you had for me, I never purposely wanted to hurt you princess..” he confessed, and without warning you feel the corners of your eyes start to sting and then start to well up with tears from his words.

“You mean the absolute world to me and no late night out or time with friends can ever compare to how much i value you, you’re an amazing woman and im only rough with you because I love you.. I love you so much and I can’t help it, I can’t help how selfish I am..how much I need you.. I promise it was a stupid mistake ill never make again. I can’t lose you.” Hamzahs hand reached out to your face, his calloused touch sending shivers down your body and a familiar heat beginning to build within yourself. “Give me another chance.. Just one more… I wont hurt you like this ever again.” Hamzah pleaded, wiping the tears from your eyes.

You could barely think anymore.. the combination of the alcohol and weed, his words and his touch, it was all so overwhelming, your heart is racing and your whole body felt like it was vibrating, you knew this was just another apology, the same ones he gives just before doing the same shit again a couple of days later, but its almost as if your mouth seemed to speak before you could think, or maybe… You believed it.

“Okay…” you say nearly breathlessly, both of you sat in silence, just staring at one another, all that you could hear was the music softly playing from the radio and the combined sound of you twos heavy breathing.

His hand moved down to your jaw, his thumb grazing over the soft skin of your lips, dipping slightly into your mouth before spreading your spit over them, and you cant help the groan that escapes your lips, every single touch feels like fire on your skin.

Hamzah noticed your desperation and stifles a chuckle, teasingly, he brings his lips to your cheek, moving down to place kisses along your jawline. You inhale sharply at the sensation, his mouth moving down to your neck, where he started to suck and nibble on the sensitive area, leaving searing marks in their wake, a slow gentle exhale escapes your lips.

Hamzah pulled away, admittedly looking very different, he was completely focused on you, his heavy-lidded eyes filled with an animalistic, desperate energy from your body responding to his touch, he wanted to consume you, to explore every little bit of you, and he didn’t need to tell you he did.

“C’mere..” he mumbled before his lips crashed against yours, both of you moaning into the kiss.

His hands roamed your body like they were trying to memorize every inch of your skin, it felt like lava against you, your spine arched as you took in the taste of weed and his mint gum and his cologne invading your senses.

His teeth grazed your lower lip, biting it and taking it in his mouth as you suck on his upper lip, your tongues danced together, fighting for dominance, and your hands began to wonder too, making their way to the growing bulge in Hamzahs pants.

you palm his errection from the outside of his sweat pants, feeling him taking in a shaky breath from the new-found friction.

“F-fuck.. your hands feel so much better than mine.” He whined against your lips, his hips lifting to meet your touch as his grip on your waist tighten.

“Yeah? you like when i touch you like this?” you whispered.

“Mhm” Hamzah managed to barely hum. “God i missed you so much..”

You giggle at his admission and suddenly stop moving your hand.

“Wh- whyd you stop?” he looks at you with desperation.

“Lets go to the back..” a sultry smile playing on your face, as you turn to climb into the back, you feel a sharp slap across the soft of your ass which earns him a yelp.

“What was that for??” “For making me lose my self control.”

Smirking, you plop yourself down into the seat and wait for hamzah to meet you, after he climbs into the back he pulls you onto his lap and grips your waist, pulling you down onto the tent in his pants, rocking your hips back and forth and his meeting yours trying to find a rhythm.

The both of you are trying not to lose control, slowly grinding yourselves onto one another, hamzahs breathing becoming more unsteady as quiet curses flow from his lips.

“Mmhm baby.. you’re doing so good for me.. just like that..”

His soft praises filled your stomach with butterflies and made you bite your lip.

Your next kiss was sloppy, messy, and desperate, the drugs were making even just grinding on one another feel so so good, you both moaned into eachothers mouths as he guided you to move quicker and with more pressure onto his dick.

He tugged at the waistband of your pjs before pulling down, practically trying to rip it off of you.

“Take these off, now.”

You obliged and lifted your legs up, not even bothering to take it all the way off as the fabric pooled around one ankle, and Hamzah took his off just as quickly, leaving the only thing separating you two being thin pieces of fabric.

You felt your own slick leaking through, coating his clothed cock as you throw your head back.

“There.. you.. go… does my big dick feel good on that pretty.. clit of yours?”

he managed to choke out through groans of pleasure.

“Y-yes.. fuck- yes Hamzah..”

“i can’t take it anymore i need to be inside of you, you’re soaking my Cock.”

He roughly grabs your ass and digs his fingers into the fabric of your underwear before ripping it off of you and roughly pulling his cock through the hole of his boxers, he sits you down on it and moves your hips forward and backwards.

You feel the heat radiating off of him as you slide along his member, the feeling of it rubbing against your clit was almost enough to make you cum on top of him.

“fuck- i can’t- its too much..” you cry out

“you can take it..i know you can.. i know it feels good, i know….”

“i need you so bad” You pant.

“Then watch it go in.. inch by inch, baby.”

He aims the tip of his dick up to your opening and slides it slowly in, it’s a tight fit and you can feel him filling you and stretching out until you reach the base.

Both of you sigh at the feeling of shared pleasure, his eyes are unfocused, glossy, breathing ragged, and he’s holding onto you tight.

“Wait.. wait..dont- oh god..don’t move, i’m so close already- i didn’t think you would be so tight..” he confessed

You wait a bit before you slowly start to ride him, adjusting to his size every movement is hitting your g spot in just the right place, Hamzah pulls you close and raises your shirt up to take your breast into his mouth, sucking on your nipple as he thrusts into you.

You scream out in ecstasy, unable to form a sentence only letting out lewd sounds.

“Does this feel good?”

“Hah- ah-“ You nod your head yes

“Use your words baby.. tell me how good i make you feel..” Hamzah groaned

“I-cant… think..im so- im gonna-“

“cum for me.. cum all over my dick princess, it’s all yours, i’m here..”

And with that, you lose all sense of control and the coil deep inside of you finally gives way as pleasure overtakes your body, your walls flutter and tighten around him while a cry escapes your throat.

You throw your head back and dig your nails into his chest and he simply holds you tighter as he fucks you harder and nears his climax

blinding white pleasure engulfs your senses and you can’t control your legs closing tightly to try to stop the overstimulation, but that only fuels his aggression as he forces them open with his free hand and starts to rub circles around your clit with his thumb.

“mhm- fuck- good girl.. take this dick..” he curses under his breath “you’re making me feel so good…im getting so c-close..”

the rhythm you two managed to create became staggered, as his hips lagged behind, his breaths became shallow and quickened and you knew his peak was coming quickly

“y/n- i can’t.. i-im cumming” hamzah moans before he cries out, cumming inside of you and pumping thick ropes of cum along your walls, coating them white with each twitch.

You both ride out your climax before collapsing on one another, chests heaving and basking in the after sex glow, while the sounds of the radio comes back into focus. Hamzah rubs the small of your back slowly, some time passes in silence of catching your breath before you break the silence.

“We cant keep doing this.”

“Why not? it seems to work out just fine every time” He smirks

You roll your eyes and sigh knowing you’re never going to escape him.

I hope you guys liked it! please leave your thoughts in the comments and of course any feedback, i’d love to know what i could change ! 😸😸 also let me know if you’d like shorter or longer stories too!!

#Spotify #hamzahthefanatasticxreader #hamzahthefantastic #hamzahthefantastic x reader #hamzah x reader #slushy noobz #slushynoobz #hamzah fic #hamzah x y/n #hamzah smut #ns/fw #female writers #i love hamzah #hamzahsmut #hamzah angst #hamzah al emad #hamzah imagines

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smallestapplin · 3 months ago

Note

You kind of touched on this a little bit in one of your other writings, (Reader/Autobot Harem im pretty sure?) but could we get Sunstreaker and Sideswipe spitroasting the reader...? It was so silly and i feel like they'd make such a great synchronized duo for their partner. Plus the way you write the size difference/belly bulge makes me claw at the walls of my enclosure and I desperately require more in my life

I absolutely can! I love these two little shits

Warnings : gn!reader your hole is referred to as a valve, belly bulge, needy Top Sideswipe, kinda mean Sunstreaker, mild throat bulging

Mdni you will be blocked! Adults only, please!

“Filthy little thing, aren’t ya?” Sunstreaker growls, his engine revving in a deep purr. Optics eyeing your small squishing frame hanging between him and Sideswipe, from this position he can see your throat stretching, everytime he moves his spike making you take so much more of him, feeling you choke around him as he puts a servo around your neck letting himself feel what he’s doing to you.

“You’re just made for taking spike- Frag! Clenchin’ around me like that, you want me to stuff this valve of my transfluid, yeah?” Please say yes, he can’t take his optics off of you!

Sideswipe’s drool is already leaking down his chin dripping onto your body, you take his spike so easily but he can’t help but grow enthralled watching your body struggle to truly fit him, watching with every thrust the outline of his spike appears showing just how deep he is inside you.

Just the sight is enough to make his helm spin, your small plush body is perfect for them perfect for taking their spikes and transfluid. His optics brighten the closer he gets to overloading, taking in the way your body jiggles with every thrust, listening to your muffled mewls as you’re pushed onto Sunstreaker’s spike.

Sideswipe moves a servo from your hip to your lower stomach just above your sex, carefully pressing down on the bulge of his throbbing shaft. The red bot drools at the feeling, how you clench so effortlessly around him, desperate to keep him in and milk him for all he’s worth.

You can barely breathe, your mind heavy with lust as you hang upside down between two larger mechs rutting into you like you’re the perfect toy for them, your hole snuggly stretched around Sideswipe’s twitching length as you try to suck on. So filled, so full, your eyes roll back as your hips try so hard to grind against Sideswipe as you cum, your filled heat clenching tightly fluttering as your cum gushes, coating his pelvis.

Sideswipe groans loudly, nearly a whimper as his hips buck frantically, fucking himself stupid as he overloads, his transfluid pumping into you, filling you with his hot creamy spent.

Sunstreaker isn’t far behind, his optics flizzling as your drawn out moan vibrates around his spike, many him curse under his breath as he fills your throat with his load, making you swallow as much as you could, even though most spill from around your mouth.

Sunstreaker pulls out slowly, taking in the messy sight of you as he gently lifts your upper body and supports you into sitting up.

“There you are, our good little shareware. Think you can handle more?” Despite his words, the yellow mech kisses the top of your head tenderly.

You don’t get a chance to answer him, merely clinging to his servos with a sob as Sideswipe continues. Sunstreaker looks up, livid glare across his face plate as his brother won’t stop thrusting into you.

“Hey, dumbaft! Cool it, would ya? It’s time to switch.”

“Can’t…fraaag- I can’t they feel so, so good! Just one more-“

“Slow down…! S’much, t’much—!!” You mewl, holding onto Sunstreaker as you plead. Turns were in fact promised, and Sunstreaker will be damned if he doesn’t get a turn with your human valve!

#smut #spicy #valveplug #transformers smut #transformers x reader smut #transformers sideswipe smut #transformers Sunstreaker smut #transformers x human #transformers Sunstreaker x reader smut #transformers Sunstreaker x reader #transformers sideswipe x reader #transformers sideswipe x reader smut #mdni #mdni blog

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glowettee · 2 months ago

Text

your dream life is jealous of how much time you spend doomscrolling.

hey sweethearts!! mindy hereeeee, so i've realized something… like how we're all literally addicted to our phones?? and how our dream lives are sitting somewhere in the corner of our minds, pouting and wondering why we never hang out anymore??

i had this moment last week where i realized i'd spent THREE HOURS scrolling through videos of people organizing their fridges (which like… is satisfying but also?? what am i doing with my life). and then i had this thought that actually shook me: what if my future self could see how i'm spending my time right now? would she be proud or would she be like "girl… what are you DOING?"

the truth is that our phones are literally engineered to be more interesting than our real lives. they're designed by actual geniuses who understand our brain chemistry better than we do. it's not a fair fight!! and yet we blame ourselves for not having "enough willpower" which is honestly just mean??

✧ why we're all trapped in the doom-scroll cycle:

our phones deliver perfectly timed dopamine hits (the happy brain chemical!!) that make us feel momentarily good but leave us wanting more

the algorithm knows exactly what will keep us scrolling (it's literally studying us)

our brains are wired to seek novelty and our phones offer infinite novelty

real life has friction and requires effort; scrolling requires zero effort

we use our phones to escape uncomfortable emotions that actually need processing

the comparison trap makes us feel like we're "researching" our dream life rather than building it

i realized something that changed everything for me: the time i spend consuming other people's lives is time i'm not creating my own. and like… that's the whole game??

✧ how to break free (in ways that actually work):

identify your "scroll triggers" - for me it's when i feel anxious about my work, when i first wake up, and weirdly when i'm hungry?? once you know your triggers you can create little alternate pathways

create "phone-free zones" in your home - i have a little basket by my front door where my phone goes when i come home, and my bedroom is completely phone-free (i bought an actual alarm clock like it's 2005 and honestly?? life-changing)

practice the "dopamine pause" - when you feel the urge to reach for your phone, pause for 60 seconds. just sit with the discomfort. often the urge will pass, and if it doesn't, at least you're making a conscious choice

redesign your home screen to be boring af - delete all social apps from your home screen, make everything grayscale, turn off all notifications except calls/texts from actual humans who matter

schedule specific "input" and "output" times - block 30 minutes for consumption and 90 minutes for creation. your ratio should always favor creation over consumption

try "analog hour" before bed - read physical books, write with pen and paper, stare at the ceiling and let your mind wander (this is where all my best ideas come from tbh)

use the "future self" visualization - whenever you're about to fall into a scroll hole, close your eyes and visualize your future self. what would she want you to do with this precious hour of your life?

create ✧ focus-core ✧ routines - these are deeply satisfying rituals that give your brain the same dopamine hit as scrolling but actually build toward your dreams (for me it's making fancy coffee while listening to a specific playlist, then writing for 45 minutes)

practice "productive procrastination" - if you absolutely must avoid your main task, have a secondary important task ready (like if i don't want to write, i'll organize my study materials instead)

implement the "touch it once" rule - when you pick up your phone, have a specific purpose and do ONLY that thing, then put it down

the hardest truth i've had to accept is that there's no magic hack that makes this easy. creating a life that's more interesting than your phone requires actually building that life brick by brick, day by day. and the beginning is SO HARD because your brain is literally withdrawing from its favorite drug.

but i promise you something magical happens after about two weeks - you start to feel… different?? more present? more alive? and you realize that all along, the life you were searching for in your phone was waiting for you to look up.

your dream life is waiting for you to stop watching other people live theirs and start building your own. it's jealous of your phone, yes, but it's also patient. it knows that eventually, you'll come home to yourself.

xoxo, mindy 🤍

p.s. if you catch yourself scrolling after reading this, please don't feel bad!! just gently put your phone down, take a deep breath, and remember that you're breaking a literal addiction. be kind to yourself through the process, okay? tiny steps in the right direction are still steps. 💗

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harmless-variety-of-garden-snake · 2 months ago

Note

38 for bucktommy please? 👀

"because they're running out of time" oh god okay

He wasn't supposed to run in, but no one was going to stop him without chaining him to an engine.

The call had come through the radio, choppy and unclear, but Buck understood perfectly: the southwest corner of the building hadn't been clear, and Tommy was there when it collapsed.

He'd dropped the hose he was rolling up and sprinted, ignoring shouts and grabbing hands, and he'd ran and pushed his way through rubble until he was at a wall of concrete and metal. He'd dug out a small hole and crawled through, barely making it through before the small tunnel collapsed behind him.

And now he's kneeling next to Tommy, who has a piece of rebar through his side and is staring at the hole in the ceiling with a dazed expression. There's blood, and Buck feels helpless. He's not a medic, he's not Chimney or Hen or Eddie. All he can do after he reports through his crackling radio is pull the glove off Tommy's hand and hold it.

"Hey," Tommy says faintly, his voice slurring just a little. "You shouldn' be here."

"Yeah, I should," Buck says, squeezing his hand and smiling when Tommy squeezes back just a little. "I don't wanna be anywhere else."

Tommy blinks at him, and Buck sees tears roll down his temples. "The lake?"

"Yeah, maybe there," Buck concedes with a wet, painful laugh.

They'd meticulously looked for the perfect place to get married and settled on Lake Arrowhead after finding a spot that felt right. They're almost two months away from the day, and Buck hopes beyond hope that they'll get to be there together.

"'M cold," Tommy confesses, sniffling. "'M not--I'm sorry."

Buck shushes him and pushes his helmet off his head so he can bend down and kiss Tommy's forehead. "Don't be sorry. Just--just keep talking. They'll be right behind me. I took off like Kevin used to."

"At the fair?" Tommy recalls, and Buck nods. "Mm. Shouldn' do that."

"Well, I'm not two," Buck points out, and Tommy smiles.

There's pounding behind them. Buck had dropped his oxygen tank outside the rubble, and it's as good as a trail of breadcrumbs.

"See? They're almost here," he says, his other hand tipping Tommy's face toward his. "And then you'll get to be in the hospital, and I'll have to sleep on that fold out chair thing that makes our backs hurt. And then you'll come home, and you'll try to get up too much, and I'll have to sit through all eleven Star Wars movies so you'll stay put."

Tommy nods, but his eyes are slipping shut and his face is going gray.

"Tommy," he says, harsh and frantic, and Tommy's eyes open. "You can't go."

The back of Tommy's other hand brushes his jaw, and Tommy nods. "I'll try."

Buck bends and kisses him, willing Tommy to kiss back firmly, the way he does when Buck's in a panic about something. All he gets is a barely there press, and then Tommy makes a soft noise that might be a word.

"They're almost here," Buck says again, hearing the shouting getting closer. "Just a couple more minutes. You can do anything for a couple of minutes."

Tommy's lips move, but there's no sound. Buck turns his head and screams for help. As he does, a block of concrete drops to the ground next to them, and Hen's face appears.

"Tommy, they're here," he says, looking down at his fiancé. Tommy's eyes are closed, and his breathing is shallow. "Tommy, wake up!"

He presses his lips to Tommy's again, and he almost sobs when there's just the slightest hint of pressure against his mouth.

"There's still time," he says, as much to himself as Tommy.

When Hen stumbles through, she turns and yanks Chimney through while other people keep digging and reinforcing.

"We're taking the rebar with us," Chimney says as they work. "And then he and I get to have matching scars. But right now, you need to help me. We're running out of time."

Buck puts his helmet on and gets to work.

#bucktommy #my fic #this one is SAD #i try not to write sad stuff but #the prompt is inherently sad #oh god wait I could've done a seven minutes in heaven thing #WHATEVER #HAVE SOME ANGST INSTEAD I'M SORRY

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 months ago

Text

Cool for the Summer 6

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, power dynamics, cheating, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: After finishing your degree, you return home only to find things aren’t as you left them.

Characters: Bucky Barnes

Note: love u guys.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

The night creeps by in ripples of moonlight and anxiety. You drift in and out of sleep, flinching at ever rustle of the tree outside, every creak in the house. You expect him to knock on your door. To open it. That’s why the dresser’s in front of it.

Paranoid. You think so. But no, not really. Overreacting but not without reason.

You’re so twisted up about the intruder in your house, in your family, that you barely think of your mom’s big news. A date? Technically your first real date. That movie night with that boy in high school was a celibate, silent penance.

You hear your mom get ready for work. She said after, you’ll go out. You’re looking forward to it even if you don’t care much about the reason. Any chance to get away, you’ll take.

The front door shuts and her car chirps as it unlocks. You listen in dread. You’re awake now. It’s four in the morning and you’re not going back to the sleep. You can’t.

You wallow in the lull that overtakes the house. Your eyelids are heavy, your head full, but even your fatigue can’t override your fear. You can hear your breaths as they fill your chest to bursting and you force them out in slow draws.

Then it begins. A low groan. At first, you think it’s nothing but the wind outside. Then it rises. Grunting peaking at the end of every prolonged sigh. Then your name.

Bucky’s voice swirls down the hall as you can only imagine what he’s doing. To himself.

“That’s it, baby girl. That’s... exactly... how I like it...” His voice gets clearer as his footfalls slap over the floor. You hold your breath and wrap the blanket around you, up to your chin.

“That’s how I want you--” He stomps up to your door and slaps his hand against the outside. “Be a good girl, open the door...”

His harried huffs bluster just outside. He moans as the door shakes with his unseen efforts. But you hear it all.

“I just need a little—help--” he snarls. “Oh, just... if you smile at me, I think--” he grunts and thumps on the door. The handle jolts and jiggles. The door hits the dresser but does not open. You squeal. “Ah, you got me, baby—girl—you---”

His voice fizzles out and his palms drags buck up the door. The friction is like a jet engine in the stillness of the house. You whimper and tuck your head under the blanket.

“You gone an made another mess, why don’t you come out and help clean it up?” He growls.

You don’t move. You can’t breathe. Your tears trickle out and roll over your nose and round your temple. They plummet onto the blanket as you recede into yourself.

Will you make it until your mom gets home?

☀️

You relent to the day and sit up. You need to use the bathroom but you’re too afraid to go out. Bucky is bold in making his presence known. You hear him making his coffee, whistling in the hall, blaring the television.

You hole up until noon, fractured by the rude awakening and the building pressure in your pelvis. You have to go so bad but moving the dresser would give you away. You stare at the window, wondering if you could sneak down the tree. Going on the lawn is a sane option in this insane situation.

Your phone lights up and draws your attention. It’s your mom. You answer. You cough before you find your voice.

“Mom?” You sputter.

“Hey, sweetie,” she chimes. “You sound tired. You're not still sleeping, are you?”

“No, I’m just... sorting out my room,” you lie.

“Ah, okay, well, I have some bad news,” she sniffs. “They need me to stay tonight. We have clinical students coming this evening and it’s my job to oversee all training.”

You hesitate. You nearly forgot about the date, let alone her proposed shopping trip. You really don’t need a new outfit.

“Um, alright, well... I’m sure I have something--”

“Oh, but sweetie, you should get something new,” she insists, “I talked to Bucky a few minutes ago. He said he’ll be happy to take you.”

“Bucky?” You echo.

“Oh, sure. It'll be good for you two to bond a bit more.” She trills. “He says you’ve been hiding all day. I don’t like that, sweetie.”

“But-- tomorrow we could--”

“The date’s tomorrow and I just don’t know if this will happen again,” she interrupts. “I’m so sorry but I’m so busy. I have to go. Bucky said he’ll take you. I can’t wait to see what you choose.”

“Mom--”

“Love you,” she talks over you and hangs up.

You stare at the phone. Oh no. You should’ve at least tried to tell her. It’s your fault. If you said something, she would listen. But you didn’t and now it feels too late.

A knock jolts the door. You hold back a yelp and look at the wood. You quiver and put your phone down.

“Hey, Baby Girl, did your mom call?” He taps his fingers on the door.

You get up and drag your feet across the room, “uh, yeah, she said we’ll go tomorrow.”

He chuckles, “that’s not what she said to me.”

“I... I’m not feeling well,” you argue.

“Of course you don’t. You’ve been holed up inside all day. It’s nice out,” he turns the handle and pushes the door into the dresser. “Hey, baby girl, what’s going on? Something's wrong with your door.”

You gulp and put your hands on the dresser.

“I’m not ready.”

“Well, I can wait,” he intones. “I have been, haven’t I?”

You shiver. You know exactly what he means.

“I’ll...I’ll meet you downstairs.”

“Oh, sure, you probably need a coffee. How about I make you one? Be good for you, huh?” He shakes the door handle. “You know, I can be good, if I get a treat.”

You brace the edge of the dresser. Your eyes round at the door. You close your dry mouth. You take a breath and peel your lips apart.

“Fine,” you agree.

“Alright, I’ll be waiting. Patiently,” he lets go of the handle. “Just don’t let the coffee get cold or I’ll have to come find you.”

You don’t move until you hear him on the stairs. You slowly drag away the dresser and turn it to get into the drawers. You pull out a pair of jeans and a loose tee with Tweety Bird on it. It’s completely plain.

You inch open the door and peer out. You watch for him or his shadow. You step out and your foot meets something sticky. You look at the floor and the splatter there; stringy with a few droplets. That’s not...

You cringe and tiptoe down to the bathroom. You wipe off your foot with a wet wad of tissue. You use the toilet next, a painful clench before the release. Then you do your best to clean up. You grab a cloth and run it under the tap. You clean up the mess in front of your door.

You bury the cloth down in the bathroom bin. As you come back out, you press yourself to the wall and shuffle to your room. You find a pair of sunglasses to hide behind.

You go to the top of the stairs and peer down. As if sensing you, Bucky appears at the base. You flinch. He has a mug in his hands. It’s not a coincidence, he’s been listening.

You descend, step by step. His eyes crawl up your body. His gaze makes you feel naked. How can he do that? The tee shirt is so baggy, you can barely tell there’s a body under it.

“Here ya go,” he hands you the travel mug; porcelain with a silicone top. “Just for my baby girl.”

You accept it and look past him. You say thanks but can’t hear your own voice. He touches your cheek and you wince.

“Are we gonna find you something cute? Something sexy?” He purrs as he pets your chin.

You shy away and try to step past him. He blocks you with his arm. He grips your chin more firmly and brings your head up. Your eyes flick to his.

“You might be wearing it for that boy, but you’ll be taking it off for me,” he snarls. “Make mommy happy first, but you don’t wanna piss me off.”

His grip makes you tremble. You whine and bat your lashes. He eases up and snickers as he strokes your cheek and rescinds his hand.

“Baby girl, I just wanna treat you right,” he eases from his momentary lapse. That stone in his voice sticks in your skill. “You know he can’t do that. Not like I can.”

You cradle the cup and stare at him. Your insides are on fire. You pout and his eyes fixate on your lip. His tongue pokes out.

“Why...” you eke out.

He grins. “Why not, baby girl? You deserve it. To be taken care of. You’re so wound up,” he drawls. “I can tell you need it.”

“My mom--”

He hisses and shushes you with a finger to your lips. He taps meanly and drops his hand.

“Don’t,” he warns. “You say a word to her, if she believe you, you don’t want to see what happens.” He takes a breath. “And can you imagine how hurt she’d be? Everything was perfect til you got home.”

You search his face. Your lashes flutter. He’s right. It wouldn’t look like his fault, would it? Especially after yesterday.

“Can we go?” You croak.

“I guess we should,” he sighs. “Even if I’d rather stay... get to know you, baby girl.” He slowly moves out of your way. You step down and he turns, brush your ass with his hand. “Think we’ll find something real nice... something to show this off.”

☀️

As Bucky drives past the mall, your heart stutters. Where is he going? Your mom would only ever take you to Old Navy or some department store.

What if he isn't taking you shopping? Why didn't you think of that before? Why are you going along with this?

You latch onto your thighs with your sweaty hands and push back into the seat. He reaches over and you lean away. He taps the touchscreen to skip the song.

"Not my favourite," he comments.

You swallow dryly. You look at him. He doesn't seem to notice the shift. Or he doesn't let on.

The grey hairs catch the light, the lines in his face add definition to his already sharp feature, and his blue eyes absorb all brightness. You face forward and your jaw locks. He wouldn't do anything. Your mom knows you're with him.

"Got a friend, she recommended the place," he interrupts your panic. "If you're looking for something special... well, you don't wanna go to the mall."

You sniff and nod. "Sure," you agree hoarsely.

He clucks and drives on. Your eyes drift to his hands, thick knuckles, thick fingers. Strong hands. Strong enough to choke.

He turns onto a street in the centre of town. You watch the storefronts, calmed by the number of witnesses, but not completely. He slides into a paralell spot and taps the button to quiet the engine.

He gets out first. You follow reluctantly.

He leads you to a store and opens the door ahead of you. You enter and look around at the expertly dressed mannequins. A feather red dress has you intimidated but the simple blue dress across from it isn't too bad.

A shop associate approaches, "hello, how are you doing today? Anything you're looking for?"

"Ummmm." You chew your lip as Bucky catches up to you.

"Special day," he speaks for you as his hand settles on your lower back, "anniversary. I'm taking her out on the town."

The woman looks between you. You choke in embarrassment as you read her name tag; Darcy.

"Oh, wow, how long?" Her voice is crisp.

"How long... two years now. I know, a bit much but you gotta celebrate the little things," he responds coolly. You almost believe him. "I'm not really a fashion guy, but you sell panties? Gotta plan for the whole night."

Her brow twitches and her dimples deepen, "yes.... there's an intimate section near the back. Hun," she looks at you, "do you want to surprise him? I can show you around."

"I think we can figure it out," Bucky insists with a bristle. "I know what looks best on her."

She blinks and pushes her tongue into her cheek. You avert your gaze as you swelter. Bucky curls his hand around your hip.

"Uh huh, well you just let me know if you need anything," she chirps sharply.

"Alright, hun," Bucky hurls the epithet back at her before he guides you away. He scoffs as he takes you past a table of denim. "Cunt," he utters under his breath and reaches for a hanger with his other hand, "now, just remember," he pulls a red dress free, "you keep those legs together with that little punk." He holds the dress in front of you. "And I'll get them nice and loose when you get home."

#bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #series #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #au #cool for the summer #mcu #marvel #avengers #captain america #winter soldier

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idontcaboose · 11 months ago

Text

Haunted car au part 9

Previous Masterpost

“O, please tell me someone is close by?” Red Robin hissed into his comm.

“Batman and Signal are on the way, 6 blocks out.”

“Neat, see if they can use the 109th st entrance, I will try to lead my goons that way.”

“Rerouting their gps, stay safe RR.”

Tim wasn't sure how to stay safe with a bullet wound in his leg, and a few grazes across his body. Part of the job he supposes. He wasn't sure which god or entity was enjoying his struggle, but he would not hesitate to smack them in the face with his bō. Tim took a small breather after losing his followers for a moment. His leg has a hole, his arms couldn't keep a strong grip on his grapple, not that it really mattered. A goon got an extremely lucky shot and destroyed the thing. So, grounded, with a barely functioning leg, and about 15 goons, and if the leaders of the group didn't flee already, then them too, looking for him. Not great odds. Oracle said Batman and Signal were on their way, and hopefully heading to the street closest to him that would work for some form of ambush.

“I'll go out a bit early, they won't be expecting it. Nah, they only set up to catch Signal, you know, the meta. The meta that can all but shadow step like a freaking d&d character. Such a great plan Tim.” Tim had started to mutter to himself as he attempted to tie on a better bandage to his leg than the slap dash one he did while on the move. He was just done securing it when a goon appeared.

“I found some blood over here!”

Tim almost screamed expletives on par with Jason or Duke, but he had some self preservation.

“ETA, hopefully it's NOW?!” Tim growled onto the comms.

“We are set up Red Robin, bring them through.” Tim could have cried in relief at Batman's voice, but he had some goons to lead.

Tim ran, not bothering to hide as he did. Luckily the goons did not think about surrounding the alley he was in, and they followed blindly into the bat's trap. He trusted that Bruce and Duke could handle the group, and limped to the Batmobile. It wasn't until Tim got to the driver's side passenger door did the universe have one last laugh at him.

“Well, well, we'll. Let's make a deal, little red bird.” Out of all the people to corner Tim, it had to have been the wannabe leader of the small time gang.

“Depends, is the deal you turn yourself in?” Tim automatically snarked.

“Nah, open the Batmobile, or I shoot you here.” The man sneered.

“Fine, fine.” Tim opened the driver's door and scooted away, his hands away from his sides.

“Good, keep backing up Red.”

Once Red Robin was far enough for the man, he turned and went to get into the car, only for the door to close on the man repeatedly. Tim could not help but just watch as the car kept smacking the guy until he managed to get into the seat. Unfortunately for the gang leader his hand was not fast enough and got slammed between the door and frame. Based on the crack and responding scream, the hand was very much broken. With a last open and close, the engine started, and the Batmobile drove straight into the group of goons and vigilantes.

Tim watched in morbid curiosity as Batman and Signal heard the car roaring towards them. Watched as they grappled upwards with just a small moment from them getting run over. Watched as 3 goons did not have time to move out of the way and got tossed onto the hood, only to slide off at the jerky stop of the car. It wasn't until Batman barked “Report.” over the comms did Tim snap out of his daze.

“The leader of the gang got into the Batmobile, and proceeded to try to run you guys over.” Tim slowly responded. “He held me at gunpoint and I couldn't move fast enough to do anything but let him. How did the failsafes fail at keeping him from driving?” Tim's voice petered out with the question.

The car door then slammed open and the leader fell out of the seat, and tried to scramble as far from the car as he could. It didn't take long for Batman to grab the man for questioning.

“Hey man, you good to move?” Tim startled when Duke appeared in front of him.

“Ya, ya. I have a GSW to my right calf, got grazed a few times in different places, possibly going into shock.” Tim dutifully reported.

“Got it, up and at ‘em.”

Duke carefully walked Tim to the Batmobile and settled him into the back seats, tightened the bandage on his leg, and put bandages on his other wounds. It wasn't until Duke went to go help Batman clean up and triage the remaining goons did he say something strange.

“Stay put, Red Robin. Keep him safe ok?” With the second request, Duke patted the driver's seat and left him alone in the car.

“What?”

@kizzer55555 @sebas-nights @candeartist422 @trappednyourheart @fandom-life-corrupted-me @tkiesai @2lbballpeenhammer @admiralwidow @rewrittenwrongs @whotfevenknowsanymore @symmetricalastigmatism

@thespacedragons

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#dp x dc #dc x dp #dpxdc #dcxdp #Tim is not having a good time #but hey now he gets to sleep #Alfred's orders #This is why bats and robins dont go out before nightfall #because Duke is OP and makes it harder for everyone #Imagine a kitten getting caught in a cage for a bobcat #That is what Tim encountered today #Tim thinks Duke finally lost it #he may be sleep deprived and suffering from shock and bloodloss #but talking to the car is looney and he should give Duke a sanity exam #haunted car au

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