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strang3lov3 · 2 months

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Chevelle

Summary- (joel miller x virgin!reader) Joel figures out that you’re the one who hit his baby, his precious 1964 Chevrolet Chevelle. He needs you to make it right, but he doesn’t want your money ❤️‍🔥🍆 (5k words)

Tags- MDNI hot girls can’t drive, implied age gap, virgin!reader, we're calling him tender dark!joel, soft!dom joel, tender dubcon (power imbalance, joel solicits sex from reader, no explicit consent but reader is into it) reader has a luscious bush, Joel walks you through handjobs, blowjobs, fingering, oral, unprotected piv, creampie, come eating, loss of virginity. Joel is clothed and reader is not.

A/N- Writing this is how I spent my spring break. Hope you love it 🩵 Thank you @noxturnalpascal for all of your help editing and your encouragement.

Based on mine and @beefrobeefcal shared prompt where we asked, "What would happen if reader damaged Joel’s vehicle?” Her fic is here and it’s one of my favorite things I’ve read!! Kiki has such a beautiful voice in her writing and I love all the details she adds to her fics.

Pawn shop by @toxicanonymity came to mind when I wrote this story and was a source of inspiration. Also worth a read, I have nothing but love for Tox’s writing 🩷

It’s late when you get off your shift at Tony’s, the shitty Italian restaurant you’ve been working at for far too long. It doesn’t pay much and you’ve considered working a new job to save up and move out of your brother’s house, but you’ve been putting that idea off for a variety of reasons. One of them being Joel.

Joel’s your neighbor, a sexy, older man you’ve got a certain fondness for. His hair used to be more brown but it’s grayer now, same with the scruff on his face. He’s got sparkling, chocolatey eyes and a sharp nose set above a thick, downturned mustache. He always looks a little dirty when you see him, with dirt caked into his forehead wrinkles and grease smeared along his temple or his jaw. He’s always either fresh off a contracting job or working on his car. He’s got this cute little Chevy he spends his nights and weekends with, a 1964 Chevrolet Chevelle, baby blue.

Joel was one of the first people to welcome you to the neighborhood and even helped you move your stuff into your brother’s house, though helping you implies he let you do any work. Joel offered you a pop from his fridge and then took over entirely, putting both himself and your brother to work moving all of your stuff in. You didn’t lift a finger that day.

You can’t seem to pull your eyes from the little green glowing letters on your dash, watching letters and numbers on the screen roll on by. 12:37 A.M. 101.9. Paper Bag - Fiona Apple. You’re so out of it. You yawn and blink a couple of times, focusing back on the narrow roads of your neighborhood. It’s so poorly lit over here, and it doesn’t help that one of your headlights is out. Joel’s been bugging you to let him fix that, he says it’ll only take five minutes.

You turn onto your street and bam. You’re wide awake now. You just hit something.

You hit Joel’s car. Joel’s fucking car. What the fuck is it doing on the street? He always has it safely kept in his garage. Oh dear god, the panic is setting in. This is Joel’s baby. You just hit his baby, his pride and joy.

You can’t even bring yourself to assess the damage you’ve inflicted upon his dear Chevy. Probably dented to shit, but you don’t really wanna know. Instead, you just pull your foot off the brake, press your remote control garage door opener, then pull into your garage as you press your lips together tightly. You’re surprised and relieved to find that there’s hardly a scratch on your own car. Joel won’t know. He won’t.

The next morning, you’re sipping on your coffee as you check your mailbox. Joel’s outside his house, loading up his work truck with some tools and supplies. He waves to you and you wave back, a small stack of mail in your hand.

“Whose mail you got today, sweetheart?” he calls to you.

You check the names on some of the letters. “Davidsons’ and Pierces’,” you answer through a chuckle. Joel rolls his eyes and laughs. The incompetent mailman is a running joke amongst yourself, Joel, and your other neighbors. He never seems to deliver anything to the right address, so you and your neighbors are often hand delivering each other your misplaced mail.

You laugh with Joel until you notice his smile disappear. He’s narrowing his eyes on his Chevy. Your heart drops as he steps closer to the vehicle, then pinches his nose in frustration. Fuck. Joel stomps back to his work truck, haphazardly tosses something in the bed and then slams the tailgate. Yeah, he’s fucking pissed. Your neck and your face heat in shame as you quickly run back inside.

In the two weeks since Joel’s car was hit, he’s been working to repair it tirelessly. He’s ordered a new tail light, since whoever hit his car shattered it and he’s spent a pretty penny ordering the exact shade of baby blue paint to touch up all of the scratches. Joel only trusts himself to touch his car, but the situation necessitates that he’ll have to take it in to a local repair shop to get the dents out. Fucking fantastic.

When Joel gets off work tonight, he notices he’s got some packages on his doorstep, hoping it’s the shit he ordered for his car. He’ll open them shortly, but he first notices that one of the packages is addressed to you. Go figure, he thinks, chuckling to himself. He walks the package over to your house, noticing your car is parked outside of the driveway. And it’s backed in too, which is odd. Joel assumes your car must’ve been blocking your brother’s, so he probably played musical chairs with your cars to get his out and then backed yours up onto the driveway. You never back your own car in the driveway, and Joel’s pretty sure it’s because you don’t know how. You probably can’t parallel park, either. He’ll have to show you how to do that sometime.

What’s also new is a bit of baby blue paint on your red Honda Civic’s exterior, right by your headlight, the same headlight he’s been nagging you to let him fix. Joel bites the inside of his cheek. Interesting. He knocks on your door, package in hand, but he’s met with no answer. No biggie. He leaves the package on your porch and goes back to your car, inspecting the paint once more. He scoffs in astonishment and walks home. Unbelievable.

The next evening, you check your mailbox after forgetting to do so earlier. As always, you never have just your own mail. This time you’ve got Joel’s. You walk it over to Joel’s house with the intention of dropping it off on his porch and going back home, not wanting to bother him as he works on his Chevy but his whistle startles you. “Hey you,” he says. “C’mere.”

“O-oh,” you stutter. “I’m just dropping off your–”

“Yeah, I know. Just c’mere a minute,” Joel says. “Got a fuckin’ bone t’pick with you.”

Your palms are beginning to sweat. He doesn’t know anything. Maybe he just wants some company while he works on his car, it wouldn’t be the first time. But still, there’s something about his tone. You step off of his porch and cut through his lawn to get to his garage. Once inside, you help yourself to a root beer from his refrigerator. Something cold and fizzy and sweet to help you calm your nerves.“Oh, sure, help yourself,” Joel mumbles. He notices your fingers slipping off the tab of the pop can and pulls it from your hands, then opens it for you. He’s wearing a stained Prince and the Revolution t-shirt and a slightly too tight pair of jeans that squeeze his ass just so. His garage is decorated with old license plates, posters, other odds and ends.

“Thank you,” you whisper.

Joel says nothing as he walks to his work bench. He pulls a lightbulb out of a cardboard box and waves it in your direction, he’s only a couple of feet from you. “Ordered the wrong bulb,” he tells you.

You can only nod. You think about maybe making a joke about the mailman screwing it up somehow, but you bite your tongue. You don’t trust yourself not to stutter right now.

“M’sure you saw, my baby here’s all banged up,” Joel puts the bulb back in the box and leans against his work bench, facing you. “Happened a couple weeks ago.”

“Mm,” you hum.

“Hit and run, can you believe that?”

“No, I can’t. That-that’s terrible.”

“I know it is. And here I thought we had a nice neighborhood…” he trails off before speaking again, “You think you know someone, huh.”

Someone. So he has someone in mind? “Yeah, it’s terrible…what happened to your car. Can’t believe someone would uh…would do that, knowing how you, your car…yeah. Terrible.”

Joel stares at you for a minute before speaking again, taking note of how you can’t seem to hold eye contact with him. He steps closer to you.

“You wouldn’t know a thing about it, right?”

“Yes,” you answer, quickly realizing your word mishap when Joel raises his eyebrows. “No, yeah. I don’t know–yeah, nothing,” you sip your root beer before fidgeting with the pop tab and shifting your weight from one foot to the other.

Joel notices. “Squirmin’ an awful lot over there, sweetheart. You got something you wanna tell me?” You shake your head, still playing with the tab on the pop can. Joel removes it from your hand, his fingers gracing over yours before placing it on the workbench. He’s moving closer to you now, matching your pace as you walk backward until the back of your legs hit his car. You gasp, he stands so tall and imposing in front of you. “Easy,” he warns. “You be careful with her.”

“Yeah, I know. Always,” you reply. Your voice is beginning to shake.

Joel hums at your response. “Not always, though, sweetheart. Think you were pretty careless with my baby a couple weeks ago.”

The familiar pressure behind your eyes is beginning to build as tears are pricking your waterline, “I don’t know what–”

“Awh, don’t do that. Don’t lie t’me.”

The tears spill over. You’re caught. You don’t know how Joel figured out what you did, but he did. “You’ve got a guilty conscience, dontcha?”

You nod before you can speak. “I’m so sorry,” you cry. Sobs begin to wrack your body, your tears now flowing freely. You’re so guilty. You should’ve told Joel what happened that night. It was an accident, and he might’ve been mad, but you’ve probably made it worse for yourself with your dishonesty. “I’m so sorry, Joel, it was late and I was so tired–”

Joel pulls you in a tight embrace, stroking your back with his fingertips. “Shhh, I know. I know,” he whispers in your ear, “S’okay, sweet girl.”

“It was so…” you try to explain, choking on your sobs and your sniffles. “So late and d-dark and I wasn’t paying attention.”

“I know. Quit your cryin’, s’gonna be fine,” Joel whispers. He pulls away from you, looking at you with those deep brown eyes of his as he wipes the tears from your face with his thumbs. Know you’ll make it up to me.”

“I will,” you agree quickly. “I’ll pick up some more shifts, Joel, and I’ll save and–”

“Oh, no. Not that. Save your money,” he tells you earnestly. “Somethin’ else,” Your eyes follow Joel when he leaves you for a moment to flip a switch on the wall of his garage. Something in the air changes then, a thick, heavy feeling between you both when he makes his way back to you. “Use your head, sweetheart. How are we gonna make it right?”

Your mouth is dry, your tongue swollen as you pick up what Joel’s putting down. “Let me give ya a hint,” Joel grunts, sucking in his gut slightly as he unbuttons his jeans. He wears no underwear, a thatch of coarse hair littering his skin is what you see when he pulls down his zipper. He grips your wrist and shoves your hand beneath the denim where you feel his package, already half hard. It’s warmer, thicker than you would expect. He feels heavy in your palm, his pubic hair wiry and scratchy against your knuckles.

He doesn’t tilt his head in confusion at your hesitancy. “Don’t know what to do with all this, do ya?”

You shake your head no. “I’ve never…with anyone, before.”

“S’alright. I’ll walk ya through it all,” Joel says, seemingly unsurprised at the revelation. With your hand still on his cock, Joel pulls himself out of his jeans entirely. He’s harder now. “Like this,” he instructs, bringing your hand to his mouth and spitting in it. A pang of arousal fills your gut at the action. He pushes your hand lower and guides you to wrap your hand around his cock. It feels heavy, warm to the touch, sticky with his sweat and his saliva. Rock hard, but smooth like satin. You admire him, his blushed tip, the prominent veins on his shaft.

Your breath hitches as Joel takes control, using his strong, weathered hand to guide your own to massage his cock. “You got it,” he encourages, sensing your rigidity. “Tighter,” he instructs, squeezing his hand around yours. You’re slow to gain confidence but he’s patient, doing the work himself for now. “You move your hand all the way up, all the way down my cock,” he tells you.

You nod in understanding. Joel drops his hand but yours stays stroking his member. He sighs and tilts his head backward as you focus on the task at hand. Without the pressure of intense eye contact, you take the opportunity to admire him, the way his Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows, the small drops of sweat rolling down his throat. You’re shy when he smiles at you, quickly averting your attention from him and to his cock, watching the way it twitches beneath your hand, where a little bead of precum forms. Experimentally, you swipe your thumb over the tip. “That’s it,” he whispers, stroking your cheek with the back of his hand. He ruts his hips into your hips, “Doin’ just fine.”

You stroke his cock like this for a while, gaining confidence in yourself until he stops you suddenly.

“Is that it?”

“Is that it,” Joel mocks with a feigned pout. “No, hon. You banged up my baby pretty good. We ain’t quite square yet.”

His leaking cock bounces against his tummy as he approaches his work bench. Your heart pounds as you can’t quite see what he’s reaching for. “Know it’s new to ya,” he says. “Just listen to me, s’all you gotta do.”

Joel returns to you with a dirty rag in his hand and lays it on the concrete ground, then reaches for your face. He pulls your bottom lip down and lets it go to watch it bounce back up. “Knees,” he whispers, gently pushing you by your shoulders to the ground. The rag he laid on the concrete for your knees is a sweet touch, all things considered. His cock is inches away from your face as he holds it between his thumb, middle, and forefingers. He presses himself to your lips, encouraging you to open your mouth. “Give it a taste,” he instructs you. “An’ you can kiss it too, if you’re feelin’ amorous.”

You part your lips and tentatively lick the weeping slit of his thick head just once. After a moment, taking in the saltiness of his precome, you lick him a couple more times, gaining confidence quicker than you did using just your spit soaked hand on him. Bigger stripes now, using more pressure. Like Joel advised, you kiss his cock a couple times, each kiss sloppier than the last before swirling your tongue around the tip. You’re learning it all, the softness of his skin, his musky, heady taste.

“Give me your hand,” Joel says. “Goes right here,” He wraps your hand around the base of his cock, same as before. He places one of his hands on your head, guiding you closer to him, encouraging you to take him deeper now. You do as such, sputtering and choking when you get overzealous and take him too quickly.

Joel chuckles, “Not all at once, sweetheart. Go slow. Try it again.” This time, Joel controls the pace at which you take him. He pushes himself into your mouth and senses when it becomes too much, pauses for you. He pulls his hips back, then rocks back into your mouth, building a slow, shallow pace for you to get used to.

He’s pushing his cock deeper into your mouth. His tip teases the back of your throat as he whispers, “Little more. Be brave,” You gaze up at him, searching his eyes for some sort of approval. He nods with his brows furrowed. “Do it for me, hon.”

You allow him to fuck himself deeper in your mouth now, your eyes pricking with tears as you gag and sputter on his cock. This time, Joel doesn’t stop himself. He’s grunting, groaning, savoring the warmth of your wet, soft mouth. “So good,” he tells you before tapping your hand, reminding you to put it to use.

What you can’t reach with your mouth, you massage with your hand as you cup his balls with your other. You and Joel work in tandem, him drawing in and out of your mouth as you bob your head and flick your tongue against his shaft. Your jaw is sore with the newness of it all, and just as you’re becoming used to the thickness of his cock between your lips and on your tongue, he pauses. “M’gonna stop you now,” Joel mumbles as he pulls out of your mouth, his eyes focused on your swollen lips and how the string of saliva connected from them to his cock breaks. “S’your turn.”

“My turn?”

“Mhm. It’s etiquette, hon,” Joel says with a grunt, lifting you to your feet. He reaches between your bodies and unbuttons your pants, pushing both them and your underwear down your legs. “Always return the favor.” Joel lifts you slightly, sitting your bare ass on the hood of his car, then pulls your pants off your legs the rest of the way. “Arms up,” he tells you. He lifts your shirt off of your body, unhooks your bra and lets it fall to your lap. You’ve never been so vulnerable, so exposed in front of someone before. Instinctively, you cover your chest with your arms and cross your legs.

“You’re shy,” he whispers. Joel drapes your clothing over his shoulder before reaching for your arms, removing them from your chest and placing them on either side of your body. “Stay like this,” He holds your knees next, uncrossing your legs and spreading them wide for his view.

Joel takes in your body and admires your wet cunt, how your thick curls frame it beautifully. A shiver goes down your spine as his eyes scan the rest of your body before he holds intense eye contact with you as he folds your clothes, placing them in a neat pile next to you on his car. You watch his chest rise and fall with steady breaths as he drops to his knees, situating himself between your thighs.

He presses a sloppy kiss against your inner knee, then another on your other leg. He kisses his way up your inner thigh, nipping at your flesh and soothing the marks with his tongue. He holds your legs firmly apart, knowing your instinct is to shut them when he reaches your cunt, his hot breath fanning over your center. “Wider,” he whispers, “I gotcha.”

The once cool metal of Joel’s car is now hot and slick under your sweaty, trembling palms. Your pulse beats as you look up at the garage ceiling, lacking the courage to look at Joel between your thighs. “Relax for me,” he tells you. You try.

You gasp when he finally begins exploring you, first his thumb parting open your folds. Adding a couple more digits, he hums in satisfaction as he finds you’re already wet, your slick glistening on his fingers. He dips one of those fingers inside of you slowly, watching how you react to his touch. You twitch and fight to keep yourself still and silent as he adds a second finger, curling it rhythmically and stroking that sweet spot inside you.

“Oh, god,” you moan as he dives into your cunt, the soft and warm, private place between your thighs, his mouth now joining where his fingers touch. His tongue is hot and wet as he drags it through your sex, circling your clit with it. “Joel, please.”

Joel’s satisfied as he hears sounds of pleasure fall from your lips, feeling your hips bucking and grinding gently against his mouth. He sucks one fold, nips at the other as he curls his fingers inside you rhythmically. With the hand that’s not teasing your pussy, he digs his fingers into the soft flesh of your thigh. “Quit squirmin’ on my car,” he warns with a firm squeeze to your thigh, hard enough to bruise you. “Ya tryin’ to scratch her again?”

His wiry stubble drags across your skin, scratching gently against the inside of your thighs. You can feel it building up quickly, that hot, sparkling feeling deep in your core as he works you, sucks your clit between his lips.

“Please,” you cry, the only word you can form at the moment.

“I know, hon,” he murmurs, escalating his efforts on your pussy. Sucking, licking, curling his fingers harder. He works you through your orgasm, feeling you gush against his mouth, your arousal dripping down his fingers and pooling into the palm of his hand. Your hands fly to his scalp, twitching and jerking from the sensitivity with your fingers tugging on his curls when he licks a stripe up the seam of your cunt.

Joel pulls away from your center with a satisfied grin, lips shiny, his facial hair damp. He rises, standing above you, and sloppily kisses your lips. You’ve never tasted your own arousal before. His strong hands find your ass cheeks, pulling you closer to where he wants you.

From there, you gasp when he slides his cock through your slick folds, rubbing thick head against your sensitive clit and watches how you react to his touch. “What do you think I’m doin’ to ya next?”

“Joel,” you whimper, your hips chasing his movements, following where his cock teases your cunt.

“Yeah, you know what I’m doin,” he purrs. “Crossin’ it all off your list tonight.”

You tense when he notches just the head of his cock in your pussy, reaching for his arm, his shoulder, any part of him you can hold.

“Know you’re nervous,” he says softly, rubbing circles into your thighs. “But s’just me an’ you here. Wider, hon. Spread your legs for me.”

You nod quickly, following suit and spreading your legs to accommodate him. “Like this?”

“Yeah, like that. S’perfect, hon, that’s all I need from you. C’mere,” Joel adjusts his hold on you before inching his cock into you a bit more. You’re so tight, squeezing him hard and whining through the stretch as he pushes into you further, the gradual slide inside your body causing him to grunt quietly. “Relax for me,” he groans through a strained breath, parting your insides as he’s sheathed himself inside you fully now. “Bite me f’ya need to, sweetheart. It’ll be okay. You’ll get used to it.”

It aches, but the pain dulls as Joel lets you get used to the feeling, the newness of his cock inside you. He holds you close and you take advantage of his suggestion, biting softly into the flesh of his neck, tasting the saltiness of his skin as you whimper quietly. Joel groans, his eyebrows furrowing together. “Shh,” he hushes, “You’re okay, hon. You’re doin’ alright.”

Joel slowly pulls out of you and fills you up again. “That’s it, sweetheart,” he praises as you tilt your hips, opening yourself to accept more of him. You’re humming into his neck as his cock recedes and then pushes in once more. “Eyes on me now. There it is, easy. Easy.”

You do as instructed, pulling your face away from him to meet his gaze. His sparkling brown eyes stay on yours as he pulls out of you, pushing into you slowly, deliberately. You hold onto his neck, his broad shoulders, clutching the fabric of his sweat dampened shirt as he builds a steady pace now. He holds you close to his body, one of his hands traveling up your body and groping your bouncing breasts, teasing your sensitive nipples.

“You just follow my lead,” Joel says, fucking you faster now. His fingers are pressed firmly into your waist now as he rolls his hips against yours. The pain is gone now, dissipated with his continued languid thrusts into you. You feel so full, so satisfied with his thick cock inside you, massaging your insides.

He fucks you steadily but gently, maintaining a quick rhythm. You didn’t know sex could make you feel this way, so much pleasure. You’re moaning freely, overwhelmed with emotion, tears flowing freely down your cheeks. God, you love it, and it’s nothing but pure pleasure.

Joel’s not oblivious to your enjoyment. He’s watching you, your face contorting, he’s listening to your moans and your cries, feeling you shiver and twitch beneath his touch and how it’s all because of him, all of your pleasure at the hands of Joel and only ever Joel. He feels a sort of carnal sense of power over this, the effect his touch has on you. You’re soft, so soft and all for him, your flesh for his hands and his teeth alone to squeeze, dig into, to bite on.

You reach for his arm and guide his hand to your center, pressing his fingers against your clit as that familiar tightness in your gut begins to build once more. “Please,” you beg.

“Thought this was supposed to be a deal for me. Didn’t need to hit my car f’ya needed me like this,” he taunts, laughing breathlessly. But Joel obliges, of course he obliges you. He moves his calloused fingertips in circles over your clit, coaxing out your release. “Takin’ me so good, sweetheart. Look at you, m’gonna make you come again. Makin’ out like a fuckin’ bandit, aren’t you?”

Indeed you are. It’s not long before you’re coming for him. With his ministrations on your clit, his thrusts now faster, harder, deeper, you’re coming undone for him as his name pours from your lips, long and slow like honey. With your lips parted open, you’re twitching and shuddering against him as you watch his face, letting yourself go. You whimper and moan, and your release is volcanic in the way it washes over your body so fiercely. Heavy, vivid waves of pleasure washing over you the way lava rolls down the earth. Slow, fiery, intense.

Your pulsing cunt milks Joel’s own climax, his orgasm crashing through him in such a way that he loses focus on you. His eyes screwed shut, the noises he’s making louder than he intended–what starts as a grunt turns into a moan, long and libertine as he fucks you harder than he probably should as you whimper in overstimulation. His thrusts turn harder and frenzied as he milks himself with your cunt, spurting hot ropes of his come inside you. You take everything he gives you, feeling so warm and full of his spend.

His movements then begin to ease, slowing down some more until he eventually stills inside of you. He takes the quiet moment to check on you, holding your face in his hands as he makes sure you’re okay. Your chest heaves as he wipes your tears, but you silently nod, reassuring him that you’re alright.

With a soft grunt, he pulls out of you. He watches how your combined arousal spills on the baby blue paint of his Chevelle, then uses his thumb to push a bit of his escaped come back inside you. Such a lewd action from the man.

Joel helps you to your feet, steadying you as you stand on shaky legs. He reaches for your clothes from the hood of his car, helping you dress yourself. “Didn’t want ‘em to get dirty,” he explains. “Everything’s covered in fuckin’ dirt and grease in here.”

“Thank you,” you smile shyly. Joel opens the garage door, the once peachy and blue sky now inky black. You didn’t realize how much time had passed. You take off back to your house, but Joel grips your bicep before you can step any further.

“Nuh uh,” he tuts. “Ya already hit my car, hon, you don’t wanna leave your mess on the hood now too, do ya?” Joel gestures to your combined arousal on the hood of his Chevelle, swipes his pointer finger through the mess and pushes it between your lips. Your brows furrow at the taste, that salty, heady flavor you’ve never tasted before now. “Use your tongue, sweetheart.”

“You want me…”

“Lick it up,” he instructs in a quiet voice. Joel figured he might’ve let you off too easy, seeing as how you came twice–once on his tongue and once on his cock when this was all supposed to be for him. He bends you over the hood of his car, groping your ass as he leans over your shoulder to inspect your work, making sure it’s a job well done. “Good girl,” he praises, watching you lick his car clean. When you’re done, he kisses you softly.

He walks you home, dropping you off on your doorstep. You’re not quite sure what to say, whether you should apologize again, thank him, say goodnight. Joel fills the silence for you. “Gonna teach you how to drive right one of these days. Keep you out of another mess like this one, hm?” he smirks as he kisses your cheek. “Goodnight, hon.”

If you enjoyed, please reblog, leave me a comment, and/or send an ask 🩷 your words mean the world to me and your interaction keeps me motivated to write. Love you all <3

From now on I’ll be sharing cat pics at the end of my fics. Hope you don’t mind 🐈‍⬛😻

#strang3lov3 #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x you #pedro pascal #joel miller #the last of us #the last of us hbo #joel miller fic #joel tlou #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal characters #joel miller x virgin reader

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holylulusworld · 4 months

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Between a rock and a hard place (1)

Summary: You are in big trouble and in need of money. Two wolves are more than willing to help you. For a price…

Pairing: Mobster!Walter Marshall x fem!Reader x Mobster!August Walker

Warnings: angst, language, power imbalance, debts, scared reader, extortion, mentions of character's death, mentions of a cheating husband, degrading, groping, implied mentions of prostitution

Between a rock and a hard place masterlist

They look like kings sitting on their plush chairs as you tremble in front of them.

In reality, they are wolves, with sharp teeth and claws ready to rip you apart.

One of them with thick and luscious curls and a thick beard, and the other one shares the same features with neatly styled hair and a mustache.

Walter Marshall and August Walker.

Both are equally pretty and deadly at the same time. Gods amongst mere humans.

Their blue eyes sparkle as you try to find your voice.

You’re a pitiful sight to them. A broke woman, with no hope, or money left.

All thanks to your useless and unfaithful husband.

He recently passed away and left more than a hole in your heart. Six digits of debt are now yours to pay.

“I-“You drop your gaze and swallow thickly. You wring your hands, wincing as you miss your wedding band and engagement ring. “I sold my rings and all the jewelry I own.”

“How much do you have for us, mouse?” One of the wolves gets up to stand in front of you. He roughly wraps his large hand around your throat, thumb brushing over your windpipe. “I could easily break you.” He smirks, as your eyes widen in fear. “Maybe I will.”

“August,” the other wolf slowly gets up to place his hand on his brother’s shoulder. “We talked about impulse control, brother.”

“Ha! Do you want to tell me something about impulse control? Brother, you are the incarnation of impatience and easily loose control.”

You shrink into yourself. Crowded by both of them you feel even smaller and vulnerable. Your legs are about to give in, and you wince anytime their eyes land on you.

“I sold the car and his golf clubs,” you whisper, not daring to speak louder. “The house…I couldn’t sell it. The bank will take it.”

“You will learn that I hate repeating myself,” August flashes you a devilish grin. “So, how much do you have for us?”

“Eight thousand and fifty dollars,” you sniff. “I know it’s not much, but I’ll pay every buck he owes you back.” Your fingers tremble when you get the envelope with the money out of your pocket.

“Aw, look at her,” Walter coos to mock you. “She’s already trembling for me, brother.” He lifts your chin with his index finger. “Look at me, lamb.” He leaves no room for arguments when he intensely stares at you. “Good girl.” Walter praises when you hold his gaze for a few seconds.

“I wonder what else she has to offer.” While Walter cups your chin to tilt your head, August circles you like prey. “Tell me, mouse.” He whispers in your ear. “Is this cunt tight?”

“What?” You splutter, while tears well up to your eyes. You struggle to breathe. These men treat you like a piece of meat, not a person. All they have in mind is getting their money back. And they don’t care how you pay them back.

“We have a club,” August slaps your ass hard enough to bring more tears to your eyes. “Maybe you can work a dick to pay us back our money.”

“Brother, I don’t think this pussy is worth five-hundred thousand bucks,” Walter tuts, but his eyes drop to your chest. “Maybe she can ride my dick and I give her fifty bucks every time she swallows me.”

“Mouse, what do you say?” August places his hand on your shoulder. “I let you ride dick at my club, and you pay me back my money this way. Or do you want to ride his dick for the rest of your pitiful life?”

“No…” You shake your head. “You can kill me, but I won’t work at your club.” You have a little self-respect left. Even if these beautiful monsters hold your life in their hands, you won’t stoop even lower and sell your body to random men.

“She’s got some fight left, August,” Walter smirks darkly at your predicament. You try to put a brave face on, but he can see the fear in your eyes. “So, lamb. How do you wanna pay us back our money if you don’t work his customers dicks?”

“I don’t know,” you sniff. “I’ll find a way. Even if it’s not my fault you lend money to my deceased husband. I didn’t know about any of this. He never told me about his problems or that he ate some other bitch’s pussy.”

“Walter, I think we got a cocky mouse,” August wraps his hand around your throat from behind to tilt your head. He forces you to look at him, making you wince in pain. “If I tell you to ride dick, you ask which hole my customer wants to fill.”

“August,” Walter tuts. “I think she’s too mousy for your club.” You hear August sigh deeply behind you. “I like me some shy mouse. They are best at sucking dick.”

“She owes us both, not only you.”

“If she works at the club we will never get it back!” Walter grunts. “If you give her to me, I’ll have a nice kitten to play with.” His features darken and he wraps his hand around his brother’s wrist. “We both know she’ll never be able to pay us back.”

“I’ll pay back every buck,” you croak. “Please…” You start to cry. “It’s not my fault he died and left me nothing but trouble and debts. I would’ve sold the house to give you the money.”

August huffs. He’s not in the mood to waste more time on you. “Have her for tonight. I want her at the club tomorrow!”

Walter glances at your quivering lips. He’s mesmerized by the sight of your fear. In his line of business, people mostly fear him. But he never was enchanted by one of the faceless people he tormented in the past. “No.”

“No?” August cracks his neck and gets ready for another fight with his brother. “Please enlighten me, Walter. How do you intend on getting the money back if you keep her?”

“I was looking for someone to share my lonely nights with,” Walter grins down at you. “She’s not too bad to look at and knows how to shut her mouth. I don’t like the mouthy bitches you wanted to share lately. All they have in mind are clothes, social media, and money.”

“Oh,” August drops his hand from your neck. He pinches your ass, making you jump. “You want to share the mouse?”

“I bet, she will look pretty stuffed with two big cocks,” Walter dips his head to glance at his brother. “Do you remember the cute little thing in Dublin? The one we found at the pub?”

“She squeaked like a mouse when we punched her pussy with our cocks,” August groans deeply. “She was tight but lacked endurance. I bet this one won’t pass out on us when we use her all night long.”

“Right, lamb?” Walter cups your chin again, “You will be a good girl for us. Did you ever cum on two cocks at the same time?”

Your eyes widen, and you feel an icy shiver run down your spine. These men see nothing but a body they can use in you.

You are trapped with them in their territory and scared shitless. Still, your panties dampen at the thought of them using you to their liking.

“She just pressed her legs together.” Walter drops his hand from your chin and steps away. He admires your trembling form for a moment, drinking every micro-expression in. “I bet she’s a little brainless slut.”

Part 2

Tags in reblog.

#august walker #walter marshall #Between a rock and a hard place (1)#mafia au #angst #mobster!walter marshall #mobster!august walker #henry cavill fandom

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ghulehunknown · 7 months

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Papa’s Worship

Terzo x F Reader

Day 4 of KINKTOBER is here! 🎃

**WARNING: EXPLICIT, NSFW**

Also available on AO3!

“Papa’s Worship”

CW/Tags: CMNF, feminine reader, vaginal fingering, oral sex (cunnilingus), female body worship, female orgasm

Summary: Terzo needs to give you pleasure after Black Mass…

Word Count: 1700

After Mass, you started to help rearrange the Unholy Books and papers left behind. Those damn ghouls, you thought to yourself. Always such a mess with them.

“You go ahead,” you called to your sisters, and they obliged, either knowing your evil scheme or just happy that someone offered to pick up the slack so they could leave early. You wanted to take as long as you could to rearrange the chapel while you waited for your beloved. Terzo and his entourage left from one of the side doors, slipping away to Nihil’s private office. God, how would you know when he’d be done now?

Around 20 minutes passed and you couldn’t find anything else to pass the time. You finished up your duties and began to walk down the corridors very slowly, taking a longer path to get to your room. You heard running footsteps coming down the hall, quicker and quicker until -

“Amore mio,” Terzo whispered breathlessly into your ear as he wrapped you into an embrace. His chest was heaving - he was actually out of breath! The man who said he’d never be caught dead doing cardio. (“I am already in such great physical shape, no?” he would say whenever the ghouls would try to get him to come along to the gym.)

“Terzo!” you cried, wrapping your arms around him and kissing him. “Were you…running?” you asked, incredulous.

“Si amore, I had to come to you, mio amato,” he said, cupping your chin in his strong hands. “Those motherfuckers,” he growled, “they wanted to keep me there forever. I thought, enough with this shit! I need my bella donna seeing stars.” He gestured with both hands, mimicking an explosion.

“How did you get away?”

“Ehhh,” he said with a shrug. “Told them I had to shit.” You both laughed. So crass, your Papa.

“I see someone doesn’t give a fuck what the Clergy thinks now that you’re in charge,” you said still laughing.

“Fuck them, fuck that old man, and fuck that annoying Copia too, with his fucking - ” he trailed off, vaguely mimicking the Cardinal’s lanky gait and outlining his upper lip with his finger as if drawing the Cardinal’s thin mustache. (“I want that old bastard to take a paternity test, there can be no way I’m related to that little shit!” he’d say afterwards whenever Copia corrected him during meetings.)

He grasped you by the waist. “All that fucking matters,” he said sexily, “is making you wet beyond sin.” He bit your jawline then kissed you there.

He wrapped his arm around your shoulders and guided you in the opposite direction, down another hall to his Papal suite. He led you in, where candles were already burning and the plush purple bedsheets laid taut.

Papa must have sent a ghoul in to tidy up his room, because your morning makeout session left the bed a mess, and nearly made him late to his meetings. You didn’t go further earlier this morning, as he begged you to tease him so he’d have a raging hard on during Mass. And his robes didn’t quite conceal it either.

He closed the door, and now you were completely alone. “Fucking finally,” he said, sighing heavily and looking very relieved. “We’re alone.”

You blushed as he kissed you deeply, running his fingers through your luscious hair. You caressed his biceps while he began kissing your neck, tickling your earlobe, brushing your collarbone. He unlaced your bodice, exposing your bare chest. He swirled your nipples in his mouth, alternating breasts until you were breathing heavily. He sighed deeply, content to be within your bosom and taking his time.

“Take me, Terzo, please,” you whispered. “I want you.”

“Shhh Sorella, these things take time. I will please you as I see fit. And you shall have me.” He picked you up effortlessly and carried you to his king sized bed, setting you down gently and continuing kissing your breasts. He removed your habit, and threw it to the ground. “Mmmm, you delicious naughty, naughty thing,” he murmured, excited to find you had not worn panties to Mass.

You blushed again. You had hoped to flash him your ass at some point while bending over to grab the Unholy Books, but fucking Imperator was behind you the whole time.

“You wicked succubus, you wanted to leave your juices for the staff to clean off the pews?” He whined. “Ho bisogno di ti. You’re all mine, all mine,” he said between kisses. He ran a hand down your body, sending chills down your spine. He made his way to your inner thigh, and began to tease your entrance. He was practically giddy. “Mmmmm, so fucking wet, sweet Lucifer. I need to taste you.”

You caressed his face, and ran your hands through his raven hair. You looked into his beautifully mismatched eyes and he felt like home.

“Mia splendida donna, amore mio, I want to thank you. You have been so patient with me as I’ve navigated all this…” his voice trailed off as he waved the air. “…shit. It has not been easy being Papa now, but you…you make things so much easier.”

“It’s not an easy job you’re doing,” you said, dismissing any of your own stress. You touched his face with your fingertips, noticing the extra wrinkles in his forehead and the bags now under his eyes.

He took your hands in his. “Sorella, I adore you. Let me worship you.”

You moaned as he caressed your clit with a gloved hand. He inserted his index finger into your entrance and made a “come hither” motion, driving you wild and making you cry out his name - (‘oh Terzo!’). “Yes Sorella, call my name,” he said. He played with your clit again, making gentle yet firm circles. He traced the letters of your name on your flesh with delicate ease. He continued to kiss you softly while he touched you.

“Come,” your Papa commanded. He knew by the sound of your breathing how close you were. He could practically command you to orgasm, one of his many devilish talents. He drilled his middle and ring fingers into your dripping cunt, circling your clit with his thumb. He cupped the back of your head with his other hand and kissed you passionately. Fucking Lucifer fuck, he was skilled. He had obviously been paying attention to Copia’s sermon on fingering - or perhaps Terzo had told the Cardinal just how to do it, to one-up him?

The leather from his gloves only heightened the experience, filling your cunt. “Come for me, please,” he whispered into your ear, practically pleading. “Would you sing for your Papa?” He kissed you again.

Your back arched as you felt your orgasm take over. Moaning into Terzo’s mouth as you came was one of your favorite things; feeling him inside you and right next to you all at once made you blush all over like a schoolgirl - he could see exactly how you reacted to him. You lost control of your entire body as a wave of pleasure engulfed you. He continued kissing you through the wave of pleasure.

“Yes that’s it, moan, Principessa,” he whispered, peppering your face with sweet kisses as you came down from your high. You came to and caught his gaze, love and adoration in his eyes. He snickered, and looked down at your chest, which was practically beet red. “Yes I always know I have done a good job when all the blood rushes to your heart,” he placed his left hand over your heart. “Almost as if your love for me is contained in one place. Mio cuore, mia vita,” he continued, bringing his gloved fingers dripping in your cum into his mouth. “Mmm, you taste so sweet.”

Still breathing heavy, you held your beloved’s face and kissed him over and over, making up for the stolen kisses you’d not exchanged all day. He took his gloves off and held you close. The warmth from his hands was welcoming and comforting. He held you to his chest for what seemed like an eternity, and you could stay there forever.

“I need to piss,” he said, breaking the silence. Both of you laughed.

“Terzo!” you exclaimed, feigning annoyance and playfully hitting him in the chest. He pretended to be wounded. Your Papa was so blunt, and so playful. You coyly brought the sheets to cover your indecency but he only tore them off again and laughed.

Suddenly he hopped up and went into the master bathroom. “Silly me, I forgot something,” he said, returning only a second later. You mumbled, and rested your eyes, almost falling asleep on the pillow. He spread your legs quickly and slid his tongue along your still wet folds. The tip of his tongue wildly flicked from side to side. Still sensitive, you yelped and bucked your hips but your Papa was stronger. He laughed again, almost evilly. “Still so wet for me, my brava ragazza,” he said. “You didn’t think I’d let your cum go to waste, eh?”

Your eyes rolled back as he drank from your cunt, desperate for you. He moaned but you could hardly stand to be touched anymore, the overstimulation driving you wild. “Fucking hell!” he exclaimed excitedly, finally satisfied. He hovered over you, wiping his chin with the back of his hand. His Papal face paint was smudged all over, and you could see his faint laughter lines beside the corners of his mouth. Yes your Papa was getting older, you thought sadly. But he still fucked like a young man.

“Tomorrow, you tie me up to this bedpost and smother me with that beautiful cunt, si?” He grabbed your chin in his hand and kissed your cheek. “Smother me in that pussy, Sorella, don’t let me up for air until I’ve pleasured you fully.”

“Yes, my love,” you said, giving him another smooch. Your scent lingered on him as he got up from the bed.

He cursed Lucifer’s name and spoke Italian, but you think he murmured “deliziosa figa,” as he trailed off to the bathroom finally.

He poked his head from the bathroom door. “And when I get back, I’m going to fuck you into that mattress so hard you’ll forget your name.”

Italian to English Translations

- Amore mio (my love)

- mio amato (my beloved)

- Bella donna (beautiful woman)

- Sorella (sister)

- Ho bisogno di ti (I need you)

- Mia splendida donna (my amazing woman)

- Principessa (Princess)

- Mio cuore, mia vita (my heart, my life)

- deliziosa figa (delicious pussy)

#the band ghost #ghost bc #terzo #terzhoe #ghost terzo #terzo x reader #terzo smut #terzo my beloved #terzo emeritus #terzo fanfiction #papa terzo #papa emeritus iii #ghost band smut #ghost band fanfic #papa emeritus terzo #papa emeritus smut #papa emeritus x reader #ghost smut

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dearlymrme · 1 year

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Mustache Ride (Copia x Reader)

Summary: What better way to decompress than to go for a nice ride?

Copia x Reader || Cardinal Copia x Reader || Established Relationship || NSFW || Face Sitting || WC: 1726

It was late in the evening. You had decided to spend the night with him. It was no secret that you and your Cardinal were together, when having been caught slipping out of his room one morning, after that you had both decided to give up pretense and subtlety and be open about it.

You lay on the bed beside him in an old, comfortable t-shirt and your underwear, playing on your phone while he laid beside you in his boxers with a book in his hands. A very domestic moment with your head rested against his shoulder and your side pressed against his, soaking in his company and warmth.

A few minutes in, and he shifts, disrupting you, but you quickly settle back in. And then he shifts again and gives a loud sigh, not a good one, an annoyed one.

You put away your phone and turn your attention completely on him, tipping your head curiously and concerned.

“Everything okay?” He reaches up to rub his eyes, brows pinched before shaking his book, the main offender it seems, and closing it.

“You know some light reading will usually help me unwind, but it’s not doing the job tonight.” He mutters and tips his head back against the pillows.

You hum, lifting yourself up with one hand and looking down on him. He smiles at your worried gaze of concern and concentration as you try to figure out some way to help him. He runs a hand up your arm, tickling your skin gently with his skimming fingers. He glances down at your figure. The t-shirt you wear is thin, and he can see the points of your nipples against the fabric. Your underwear is cute with little patterns on them, and seeing you so near half naked starts to pull at his loins.

“Massage? Stupid Youtube videos?” You suggest helpfully.

“I was thinking of some foreplay.” He lifted a suggestive brow and grins as your cheeks break into a flush. You expertly roll on your hand and slide across to sit in his lip, pressing down on his quickly hardening cock. His hands automatically glide down to cup at your hips, thumbs playing at the band of your underwear.

“Are you feeling generous about it, or would you like me to spoil you?” He hums and playfully pulls and snaps your underwear to your hip, groaning softly when the action causes you to give the smallest of jerks and damned friction to his groin.

“I’m happy when you're happy. Either way, we both get what we want.” He smiles and takes one of your soft hands in his, pulling it up to his mouth to lay a small kiss on your knuckles. He is, however, in a mood to please tonight.

“Though if I am being honest, I don’t feel like I spoil you enough.” Your luscious lips turn into a grin as you waggle your brow.

“Well if that’s the case, how do you feel about giving me a mustache ride?” He suddenly choked, his face flushing before his shoulder shook, and a laugh erupted from his throat like a bad cough.

His reaction causes you to grin as warmth fills your bones from the sight of him having been taking off guard and finding humor in it.

“A what?!” He boyishly grins in mirth, and while the confusion is evident on his face he’s excited.

“You’ve never heard of that?” You giggle yourself, his hard cock momentarily forgotten as your cheeks start to hurt from how hard you're smiling.

“I know cunnilingus and sixty-nine. Is that one of them?” An American expression, perhaps? It certainly sounds like one. He watches you bite your bottom lip, imagining taking it into his mouth and sucking it until you're pouty. Your giggles break him out of his stupor, and he listens fondly as you try to explain it. It's a simple enough explanation, but you can’t help but laugh.

“You have a mustache. I ride your face, and you eat me out. Ergo, a mustache ride.” You watch as his face lights up lustfully and his hands slide down to once more grab you by the hips, rocking you once against his hard cock before he starts to drag you up to his chest.

“Then hop up, amore. Let me give you a ride.” Your cheeks stain pink as he sticks out his tongue and suggestively waggles it. Heat rushes down your crotch and you get off him a moment to carefully pull down and off your underwear.

Copia smiles at you and pulls at his boxers to get them down while eyeing your hips and legs and now fully exposed cunt as you resituate yourself. He pulls out his hard cock and spits in his other hand before he starts molesting the head of his dick.

In your opinion Copia’s face is made to be sat on. It’s a believable thing when swinging your bare thigh over his head and pinning your knees just above his shoulder, his nose perfectly lines up with your clit. You’ve sat on his face enough times now that the awkwardness has long since faded and you quickly seek after what you want.

A rattling groan vibrates against your flesh at contact, and your ears and face flush at the following slurp. He groans at your taste, salty yet sweet and a flavor that is distinctly yours and opens his mouth wider. Your sweet nectar is always a nice treat at the end of any hard day. Your skin is clean from your shower previously, and the skin of your legs and thighs are soft on his face from your nightly lotion. Your heady scent causes him to throb in his hand.

He slides his tongue between your folds slurping and slashing against your clit as he spells out a damning prayer, massaging it wetly until you almost drool. Dragging his tongue up and down, the hand he was using to grasp your hip lowers down and back before grabbing one of your ass cheeks.

Spine bowing, you give a curse and your hands immediately go for his hair as he stuffs his tongue into your cunt and darts it through the tight inner muscles, and then he twists his head to grind his nose into your clitorus. You work through the motions as he forces you to grind harder and faster, slicking your cunt entirely over his lower face.

“Shit! Copia!” You moan, digging your nails into his scalp gently to massage his head, which he gives an appreciative grunt. You brush back his sweaty bangs and watch his eyes flutter upwards. Copia stares hotly at you and peeks his tongue under your mounds, lapping once before darting it back between your folds.

You further bear down on him in slicing motions to feel the scrapes of his mustache more over your quickly reddening and sensitive skin. Copia then shoves his tongue under your clit and takes a big inhale and you worry for a moment he’s going to suffocate himself. His chest expands under your ass and he tears a shriek from your mouth as he smacks sharply at the asscheek he’s gripping.

Every sweet little whimper and moan he pulls from you fill his chest with warmth. Hearing the effects of his mouth on your cunt and tongue in your folds is enough to make his heart throb. Your hot channel is tight and squeezing his tongue like a constrictor and he knows that’s a sign that you're getting close. It never takes you long when you're on his face. He figures it has something to do with the power that comes with it even though you are always hesitant and reach for it at first. It always takes a little reassurance before you give into your base desire and he loves watching you fall.

A tight coil starts winding up in your lower stomach that warns of your approaching climax. You clench your teeth and finally let loose of your inhibitions as you roughly pull his hair, pulling strands from their roots. You press down hard on his nose, digging it into your clit as you jackknife your hips back and forth against his face.

“Copia!” Your eyes roll back a moment, and you feel his other hand come to join its pair at your ass before he roughly pushes and pulls your hips to ride his face harder. You’re flattered that he would go on to ignore his own pleasure over yours and imagine just how hot and red his dick must be, laying and twitching against his stomach.

Copia responds with a very submissive and pornagraphic grunt, noisily slurping at your wetness

“You’re gonna make me - I’m gonna…” Your warnings cut off as your lower stomach starts to quiver and your thighs burning from the position only accentuates the mounting fire in your loins before it lets go and you scream.

He still rocks your hips before one hand leaves your ass and you turn to look over your shoulder to watch him furiously beat himself off, hand moving fast enough for his fingers to blur. He rolls his thumb across the head and strangles his shaft before giving a growling moan. His cock head turning a deep reddish purple and you know he’s close, chasing after release at breakneck speeds.

You take mercy on him and remove yourself from his face, sitting gently on his chest.

“Come for me, baby.” You plead and run your fingers gently through his locks and earn a quivering moan that borderline sob. His eyes tightly closed and eyebrows pinched. You feel cum splatter against your lower back and feel his stiffening muscles go loose and relaxed. You move to get off of him, satisfied.

Then his hand comes back to grab you again by the hip.

“Where do you think you’re going?” He growls, tugging you by your waist until your cunt is back against his chin. He buries his head back between your trembling thighs and gives them a small nip.

“Sit back down. This ride isn’t over until I say it is.”

Looks like your nice slow ride has now turned into a race.

#copia x reader #cardinal copia x reader #cardinal copia #copia #papa emeritus iv #dee writes #ghost band #ghost the band #the band ghost #reader insert #papa emeritus x reader #papa emeritus iv x reader

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heatherhpogson · 1 month

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Look at those luscious locks! The shadows were hard to do. If I was only doing a value study, I'd nail those shades, but the colors make it hard! Still, I'm happy with the results!

Also, here's his mustache version! A new poll is in the works! 😄 Is he better with or without a mustache??? 😗

#good omens #good omens fanart #digital art #52 weeks of fanart #crowley #Crowley's mustache

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peaches2217 · 5 months

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Underrated trope: Peach finding Mario authentically, conventionally attractive. He’s viewed by most people as plain and even a little goofy-looking, not hard on the eyes by any means, but more charmingly cute than handsome. And then there’s Peach, who is just. Besotted the instant she looks at him, even before romantic attraction is involved. His broad shoulders, his plump cheeks, his sturdy figure, his thick and luscious hair — put bluntly, Peach thinks he’s hot, the physical ideal of a man, and she assumes everyone else does too.

“Okay, so like… physically,” Daisy whispers over tea one day, “what exactly do you see in him?”

Peach gestures to where Mario’s assisting with some repairs to the courtyard fountain ten yards or so away. “Look at him,” she says with no further explanation, because hello, it’s obvious, isn’t it? Anyone with half-functioning eyes need only take one look to understand why he constantly has her weak in the knees.

All Daisy sees — and, in fact, what most people see — is a short, chubby guy with a big nose and a funny mustache. “Just making sure we’re looking at the same guy,” she mutters with an amused grin.

#super mario bros #smb #mario #princess peach #mareach #mario x peach #peaches has opinions

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redjennies · 1 year

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my mutuals, followers, fellow critters, too long has this fandom suffered under the tyranny of Essek Thelyss' monopoly on hotness. too long have we languished under unsexy metaphorical chokehold he has on this fandom, which is very different than the sexy literal chokehold a certain candidate had on Vax. yes, critters, it is time to raise up your voices and say no more to mainstream candidates that only uphold the status quo and throw your support behind a candidate who is an outsider to Exandrian Sexiness because he isn't even from this plane.

today, I urge you to vote for Artagan in the Critical Role Sexyman poll. the opposition will tell you Artagan does not have the experience to be the Critical Role Sexyman, and sure, he might not have your typical Sexyman qualities. he is not a sad war criminal nor does he engage in dubious science, but my friends, I ask you what is sexier than whimsy? than tomfoolery? than starting multiple cults through your fairy bastard shenanigans and getting bored of the responsibility? tell me, critters would you rather vote for a man with long luscious ginger curls that cover most of his body and fuzzy eyebrows that look like worms on a string or a man who cannot even grow a mustache?

so please, vote for Artagan and say no more to the Standard Hot Boi. when they ask "what is sexier than wizards?" and I hope that you all with your resounding voices answer "archfey!"

#joke tag #clowning for the clown king #artagan

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joelswritingmistress · 9 months

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Oh Captain, My Captain: Chapter 4

Chapter Summary: After reliving your unexpected first kiss, you agree to meet Joel again for another boat ride. While you're trying to remain level-headed, your hormones are in overdrive as you wonder where things are headed between you.

Joel x f!reader

The kiss was innocent enough. Closed mouth, a peck that lingered with eyes pressed shut. You could taste the Narragansett beer he'd be drinking down at the beach. But sparks went off like fireworks inside of you.

When you pulled back and opened your eyes, Joel's lips, his luscious lips, twisted into a smirk. His eyes, playful and kind, lingered on yours.

"Goodnight," you spoke with a smile of your own and glowing, hot cheeks.

"Goodnight."

"Will you be okay to get home?" The question felt silly but you couldn't help but ask. It made him chuckle.

"I'll be fine."

"Okay." You nodded and realized he was leaning back in.

"Okay," he echoed, closing his eyes again as he planted a second kiss on your lips.

You didn't want to part from him. Never in your life had you wanted to jump someone's bones so badly right after you met them. You'd never had a one night stand or slept with a guy right away, it just wasn't your style. But Joel. Joel would have been an exception to every silly little rule you'd penned in your imaginary rule book. You didn't want a one night stand. You wanted a one-hundred night stand - or more.

Calm the fuck down, you told yourself.

"Six o'clock tomorrow night?" He asked, still lingering close to your lips.

You swallowed hard. "Six o'clock."

"I gotta leave the dock then so don't be late." He smirked with another wink that made you swoon.

"I won't be late."

You hadn't realized your fingers were entwined with his until his hand parted from yours. You managed a deep breath, said your goodnights again and then headed upstairs.

...

"Taking the boat out to Block Island today," your Uncle Mark explained as he sipped on a fruity drink beside you on the beach. "Any interest?" He smoothed out his graying mustache.

You couldn't risk being late to meet Joel, but you pretended like you were thinking about it. "I might do a little shopping out here tonight."

"No problem. You kids are getting too old to hang out with the old dudes, anyway." He gave a laugh. "To be honest I miss being young and hitting the bars. Being able to do shots without feeling it for four days."

You gave a laugh. "My shot taking days are ending. Some beers and maybe a rum runner or two I can get behind, though."

Uncle Mark laughed and you gave him a fist bump. He was the funniest family member you had, and before you left the beach the two of you snuck in a shot of Fireball he kept in the cooler, just for good measure.

On the walk back from a day in the sun your brother caught up with you. "So, uh, who's the guy?" He teased.

"What?"

"Who's the guy?" He repeated with a smirk. "Late night. You asked me to lie for you. I did. You're not joining us on Uncle Mark's boat."

You chuckled and shook your head.

"I knew it."

"I'm meeting a guy tonight for dinner."

When he started singing the Grease song, Summer Lovin' you laughed and hit him. Sometimes your brother could be okay, despite his cringy antics.

"Thanks for covering for me last night."

"Yeah, yeah. You've had my back before and you always bought me beer before I could buy it myself." He laughed. "Just don't get kidnapped."

"I'll be fine." You smiled.

The vibe of the week had shifted tremendously. You went from being bored and then feeling guilty for being bored to completely alive.

Everyone had gone to Block Island on the boat, and your mother was the most disappointed that you decided to stay. A part of you felt guilty again because you knew she was trying to hold onto the bond you'd always had with her. Your parents weren't bad people, not by a long shot. You were just feeling a need to spread your wings now that you were fully submerged into adulthood.

Speaking of adulthood, you finally felt like you were able to let yourself go - socially and romantically. It was time to explore all avenues of your love life and Joel Miller was in your crosshairs.

You tried to pull off a look that showed you were trying but not too much. You put on some makeup, lip gloss and straightened your hair. You sported a sundress for the boat ride again and some flip flops.

At five-thirty you began the short walk down to the docks and saw the now-familiar boat beginning to approach the dock with a short line of people waiting to take their cruise. The crew from the hour before began to exit the vessel and, as they piled off, the first people in line piled on.

You held your breath. Butterflies were in your stomach and your eyes scanned the boat frantically. The excitement and anxiety wouldn't get back to an even keel until you saw him.

The dock rocked beneath you as you paced toward the boat. You spotted one of Joel's friends from the bar securing a rope from the boat to the dock.

Where is he? Where is he? The phrase peppered in your mind as you neared The Mist of the Sea. Your heart rate climbed and then, as the first passenger went to climb aboard, the captain emerged with a hand extended to help them on.

You swallowed hard. He looked even better than you remembered, sporting the same hat over a T-shirt that hugged his rugged upper body. He smiled genuinely as he helped the passengers aboard.

And then it was your turn. When your eyes met Joel's you noticed his Adam's apple rise and fall in his throat. His lips tightened on the corners at first and then a smile formed, big and bright, on his face.

His warm palm secured your hand to his, and when his fingers wrapped around your hand you felt a hit of infatuation. It was already addicting.

"Welcome aboard," Joel greeted. He grinned, and you smiled and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

"Thank you, Captain." You allowed him to guide you aboard. Everything felt great in that moment. Perfect, even. You hadn't felt so naturally happy in a long time.

"The view from the top deck is stunning," he said as you headed for the ladder.

"Thanks for the tip." You glanced over your shoulder at him and felt your flirtation was successful as you took the ladder to the top deck.

Others had begun to get seated but you managed to make your way close to the front of the boat to be close to Joel.

He eventually made his way to the top, subtly letting his knee graze yours as he passed. A moment later he was on the boat radio, capturing the crew's attention as he promised a relaxing and informative forty-five minute ride around the island.

You enjoyed the ocean breeze, and of course the view of the captain. But you couldn't wait for whatever came next. Joel was so close, yet so far. After the hours of conversation and the pair of kisses the night before, you couldn't help but crave more. Selfishly, you wanted Captain Joel all to yourself.

He was really in his element. Joel was friendly and energetic. He had people laughing and asking a question here or there. He really was an islander, and you could hear the passion for the place he lived in every little detail he provided. It was dreamy.

I could do this over and over, you thought to yourself.

The forty-five minutes came and went. You tried to soak in as much of the history and little tidbits of the Island that you could. When Joel finally eased the big sea vessel back into its spot by the dock, he thanked everyone for joining and motioned for you to come to the front as the others piled out.

"So, what'd you think?" He asked. "Better the second time around?"

"I'd say you nailed it," you said with a nod, letting your hand drift across the steering wheel. "You got a standing ovation. They seemed to like you."

Joel gave a little grin and motioned to the wheel. "Think you could drive her?"

You huffed a laugh and positioned both hands on the wheel, looking out at the sea. "I'd probably take us to Ireland or something."

Joel laughed lightly and crept in behind you. He placed his hands over yours on the wheel.

You swallowed hard and your pulse quickened when you felt his body gently brush against yours from behind. You were struggling to fight the impulses you wanted so badly to act on. But to be fair, Joel knew exactly what he was doing.

"If I said starboard which side is it?" He asked.

"Um.." your brain was practically shut down and your body was working overtime. You went to move your hands on the wheel to the left but Joel caught you as you did and forced your hands in the other direction.

"Close," he teased. The laugh he let out ricocheted down the side of your neck. It caused you to turn partway to look at him.

For a second or two neither of you said anything, and then in a boyishly cute fashion, Joel simply said, "Hi."

"Hi." You breathed the word back and your gaze alternated, in rapid fashion, from looking into his eyes to down at his lips and back again.

That was when Joel recognized your hesitation and took the initiative. He grabbed you by the side of the face with one hand and kissed you. This time he *really* kissed you.

It was fierce and hot. Your tongue fought for dominance with his, but ultimately Joel took over with ease. You gasped when you took a breath and then dove back in for more.

Fuck, how would you stop? There wasn't a part of your body that had the will to stop.

And then came a whistle from below. It jolted both of you back to reality and you suddenly remembered where you were.

"Joel!" A voice called up. "You good?" It was one of the deckhands.

"I'm on my way down!" Joel called back. He turned back to you and sighed through his nose. His hand still rested on your cheek. "Come to dinner with me."

You nodded, knowing full well how crimson your face was and swollen your pupils must have been.

"Do you feel comfortable coming by my house first? I just have to take a quick shower. I'll be in and out in five minutes."

Joel's house? Him showering? Naked. With you there.

"If not," he went on, "That's fine. I could meet you at the restaurant-"

"No, it's fine," you blurted before he could suggest anything else. "I'll go with you."

"You sure?"

"Yeah." You couldn't hold back a smile.

Joel smiled back. "Alright, let me just get this boat secured and then we'll go."

"Okay." You took a breath as he exited your personal space. It felt empty without him there, especially in the throes of infatuation. Still, it gave you a second to process what the immediate future would hold as you tried to keep your cool about going to Joel's house.

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theworldofkirby · 4 months

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i adore you, noble haltmann… (president haltmann x reader fanfic)

A/N: hai guys i wrote a haltmann/rader fic as a kind of sequel to the dedede dating simulator bc i dont feel like coding another game to make a haltmann dating sim so take this haltmann x reader fic instead

ok so like u are in dream land right??? well :) it was taken over by capitalizm!!!!1 omg

you, (y/n) the SEXIEST freak in planet plopstar is almost crushed by one of those leg things on the haltmann works company star dream thingy ok? yea so you dodge that and like… there's a window or somethin and a guy falls out of there

you watch as he falls. he falls for like 10 minutes. but then he lands on the ground next to you and you hear a crumch.

"ow" the male says

"omg!!!!! are u ok" u ask the masculine man

"i think i broke my pelvurouscula" he says

"omg no……" u say and hold him gently. u have magic healing powers so u heal him

"gasp" he gasped. "i don't feel like dead anymore"

he gets up and u cant help but admire he. his beautiful egg shaped bod and wicked pinstripe suit. and his luscious hair and mustache.

"newayz my name is haltmann. max profitt haltmann" he said with not a trace of happy

"haltmann….. my name is (y/n)" u smile

"ok" he says. "i have to go home. bye"

he goes into his headquarters but u follow him. u keep talking to him "um so wat are u doing? i almost died" u frowned

"oh no" haltmann says. "did i accidentally park my plant on u"

"ya" u nod

"im so frickign sorry" haltmann starts crying. "i'm such trash i cant commit capitalizm without almost killing peopel"

u frown at the egg's sadness. "dont cry haltmann…" u say comfortationally

"no it's not okay i'm shaking and crying rn. i might throw up" haltmann starts crying

haltmann cries and opens his office door and runs in and throws himself onto his bed dramatically like a sad disney princess. u enter his office and hear some haunting lyrics…

"I pull away to face the pain

I close my eyes and drift away

Over the fear that I will never find

A way to heal my soul

And I will wander 'til the end of time

Torn away from you

My heart is broken

Sweet sleep, my dark angel

Deliver us from sorrow's hold

Or from my hard heart"

u turn off haltman's ipod. "Haltmann" u say

"no my music" haltmann sobbed

"haltmann." u say again but more like… asssertively

"ouuu" haltmann screams into his pillow. "first i break my airpods and now my music is dead"

"HALTMANN" u grab him and sit him up

"what" haltmann sniffs

"whats wrong" u ask

"u see (y/n) i lost someone in da past… i forget who that was tho… but like someone died ok? and now im sad" haltmann explaines

"halmann" u look into his deep blue orbs. "i…"

"yes (y/n)?" haltmann blinks his beautiful sapphire saucers at u

"i…" u blush "i…"

"..." haltmann …ed

"i think u need to seek therapy" u gently stroke his bangs

"omg… ur right" haltmann tears up. he gives u a hug. "thank u (y/n)"

"ur welcome" u smile

"im so tired of depression. i will defeat this evil inside me. thank u (y/n)"

u get on his computer and start googling local therapists in dream land. "here's one," u say. "call them and see if they're accepting new patients"

haltmann gets his sexy cellphone out and calls the therapist. "hi mr. therapist, my name is max profitt haltmann and my friend (y/n) says i need therapy"

"ya we can take u in" says the therapit. "we will have u do an intake next month ok"

"n. next month." haltmann starts to tear up

u look at haltmann ernestly. "better late than never, haltmann… ur patience will be rewarded"

haltmann sighs haltmannly. "ok. we will do next month"

haltmann finishes scheduling his therapy appointment. u look at him with a pleased look on ur face. "that was kinda sexxy of u haltmann, working towards self care like that" u smirk and wink

haltmann blushes "haha yea i guess that is pretty sexy. um, not that i'm trying to be cool or anything" he stutters

"hey u can call urself sexy and cool all u want," u laugh. "ur epic even"

"(y/n)..." haltmann blushes. he leans in and gives u a kiss. his cute little mustache hairs tickle ur upper lip.

"teehee" u giggle. "ur mustache is so cute"

"thank u" haltmann says. "star dream says its ugly"

2 MONTHS LATER

haltmann knocks on ur door. u open it

"hi (y/n) my sweet honey bunches of oats" haltmann wraps his hands around u and dips u for a kiss

"h-haltmann" u blush "where did this come from"

"so u see, i followed thru with therapy like u suggested. little did i kno this would change my life" haltmann says. "going to therapy made me realize that i wasn't treating myself with respect, and if i want to feel respected by others, i need to develop respect for myself. without respect for myself, i won't be able to recognize gneuine respect from my friends and employees. and i cant live being so cynical anymore. i need to love myself, (y/n). i need to be my own bestie becuz who will be there for me when everyone is gone? i need to be there for myself"

u look at haltmann like this:

"haltmann… u… u mean…"

"yea. i love myself, (y/n), and its thanks to u…" haltmann kisses u again. "sory i didnt talk to you for the past 2 months btw i was depressed amd busy with therapy lol"

"its ok haltmann i love u no matter what" u stroke his egg head

"yea" haltmann nods. "um btw i like need some new music to listen to bc my therapist says i shuld stop listening to such depressing music if it makes me wallow in sadness more"

"say no more" u say as u smirk and take out of ur bookshelf a CDs of Hannah Montana 3 and the High School Musical Sountrack

u and haltmann spend the night picking out the best disney channel songs to boost his self confidence. soon enough its morning. "omg its morning" haltmann gasps

"it was nice spending the night with u haltmann" u blushed "we should do it again someday"

"no, (y/n)" haltmann gives u an onion ring "we will do it again today. marry me"

"ok" u blush

u and haltmann have a beautiful wedding with the stupidest most extravagant dress and cake bcuz hes rich. ur live happy ever after the end

#kirby #kirby series #kirby fanfic #kirby fic #president haltmann #max profitt haltmann #haltmann #y/n #fanfic #other art

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