#spring break service trip

[pedroscurls]

stranded (one-shot)

summary: your car breaks down on the side of the road and a stranger decides to help you out... and you have no choice but to accept his help.

pairing: no outbreak/dark!joel miller x fem!reader content warnings: EXPLICIT CONTENT (18+ ONLY MDNI), DUBCON - please read at own risk / heed warnings!, stockholm syndrome, unprotected p in v, rough sex, manhandling, oral sex (m receiving), orgasm denial, begging, creampie, joel ties you up, spanking, light choking, fingering, age gap (reader is in 30s, joel is in 50s), no use of y/n. word count: 5.1k a/n: and here's yet another story where i'm stepping out of my comfort zone. i've always wanted to write dark!joel, but felt like i couldn't do it justice... but then ali's (@pedgito) hosting a writing challenge (spring fever) and i figured... why not? i chose backwoods horror #1 STRANDED/SIDE OF THE ROAD. please heed the warnings, y'all. this is gonna be very dark and filthy, so if you're not into that sort of thing, that's ok!

You had no idea what you were thinking—taking a solo cross country road trip after quitting your job. Maybe you thought that you’d find yourself, find some kind of purpose that was lacking in your life, but instead, you’re stranded on the side of the road. Gas empty, no cell service, and phone already on its last battery. 

This is where you’re going to die—you’re sure of it. It’s how all horror movies start and despite the sun still high in the sky, you’re increasingly getting worried about what could happen when night falls. You scream at the top of your lungs, the sound echoing through the vast empty void. 

God, no one would hear you scream for help if you were in real danger and that thought simply frightens you. Your friends had all but praised you for this trip—this journey to self-discovery and reflection. Your parents, on the other hand, had already been concerned when you said you would be alone on this trip. A woman, traveling the world by herself? Well, that’s just asking for trouble, they said. 

And now you understand their concern. You understand their fear about you traveling all alone because of where you are now—in the middle of fucking nowhere. You should have refilled your gas when you had the chance, should have charged your phone while you were driving. Should have, should have, should have. 

10%—your phone reads. You try to send a text to your parents, to send them your location, but every attempted text just comes back with the message in red text and an exclamation point next to it: NOT DELIVERED! You raise your phone in the sky, hoping that maybe you’ll get one bar of service, but no luck. 

The trip had been successful, up until this point. You were in Texas, that you were sure of. But where in Texas? You had no fucking clue. 

You lean against the side of your car—the sun glaring down at you and you can feel a thin sheet of sweat on the side of your neck. Why did you think this was even a good idea? Traveling cross country without a plan—how fucking naive. 

Your battery drains fast and your phone finally shuts off. You let out a quiet sigh of frustration and open the passenger door of your car to toss your useless phone inside. Just as you’re about to climb in, you hear a faint noise of a car engine. Suddenly, you feel hopeful—maybe you won’t die here after all.

The sudden excitement that you feel overpowers the possibility that what you’re doing is absolutely dangerous. You’re waving your arms in the air, trying to track down the person in the car who’s making their way in your direction. It’s possible that this person whose truck is slowing down as it nears you could very well be a serial killer, but what choice did you have? 

The truck pulls up behind your car and quickly, you run over to your savior. Your hero. 

“Hi. My car’s dead, my phone’s dead, and I just need a lift to the next gas station... Or any place where I can use a phone to give someone a call,” you blurt out, breathing heavily. 

He turns his head slightly in your direction—eyes gazing at your face, then down to your shoulders and the rest of your body that he can see from the driver’s side. You’re leaning against the opened window of the passenger side of the truck. You don’t belong here, he knows that for sure. 

“Next gas station is in the next town over,” he finally answers. 

“Could you give me a lift there? I can pay you. Let me just grab my things and—”

“No need,” he interrupts, voice low. “I’m headin’ in that direction anyway. Get in.”

You grin and Joel’s jaw ticks briefly. God, you’re beautiful and it’s truly been a long time since he’s been with—

“Promise you won’t kill me?” you laugh, climbing into his truck and interrupting his thoughts. 

Joel finally takes in the rest of your frame and can immediately feel his length stirring beneath his dark jeans. His hands grip the steering wheel to ease some pressure, but you’re still talking and you’re laughing and it shoots straight to the center of his pants. It must be his lucky day. 

“If I were to kill you, I don’t think I’d be confessing that, darlin’,” he answers—the corners of his lips lift slightly. Oh, you had no idea what you just got into by climbing into his truck. 

“Right,” you reply. “That’s a good point.” You look at him—taking note of his damp hair that’s slicked away from his face, his broad frame, salt and pepper patchy beard. You realize that he must be in his fifties, but you can’t help but notice how handsome he is. That’s a good sign, you think. He won’t hurt you. He’s going to drop you off in the next town and hopefully, you’ll be able to head back home in the morning. 

“I’m guessing you live around here?” you ask, feeling the truck move back onto the main street. You glance out the window, watching your car become smaller and smaller as Joel drives further away from it. 

“Yeah,” he answers. “Guessin’ you ain’t from around here.”

“That obvious?” 

He just nods. Joel needs to focus on the road ahead of him. He has to make it seem like he’s not a threat, like he’s not just about to take you directly to his home. His secluded home. 

You introduce yourself formally, telling him your name and turning your body to face him. “What’s your name?”

“Joel.”

“You’re a man of few words, aren’t you?” you smile in his direction and Joel glances at you from the corner of his eyes. 

“Not much to say.”

“Well, how long is the drive to the next town? If you don’t have music, I’m gonna end up talking. I don’t usually like it when it’s too quiet on a drive and—”

“It’s about fifteen minutes,” he interrupts. “Radio is busted.” 

“So talking it is then.”

“No use in talkin’ if we ain’t gonna be seein’ each other after this.” 

“I guess you’re right,” you answer with a sigh. You try to remain quiet, fidgeting with your hands as you stare out the window. Every few seconds or so, you glance over at him and you can’t fully read his expression. He’s so stoic that there’s a part of you that feels like an inconvenience to him. Maybe he should have just kept on driving. 

“How long were you stranded for?” Joel asks. 

“About a couple of hours. Couldn’t get reception to call someone.”

“Yeah, phones don’t work out here.” Joel shrugs. “You eat anythin’ yet?” 

You shake your head. “Skipped breakfast this morning to get on the road.”

“My place is just a couple of minutes away,” Joel says. “I need to grab a few things. Got some food and water for you,” he offers. 

You smile and reach out to rest a hand on his forearm. It’s an innocent gesture, but it makes Joel shift in the driver’s seat. Your touch is so soft, so gentle and he flexes his arm underneath your fingertips. “You’re sweet, Joel. That sounds great. I am starving.” 

Joel bites back a smirk. He’s got you right where he wants you. 

Your hand drops from his arm and there’s a subtle frown that settles on his lips before he pulls off the main road. Within minutes, Joel pulls up to his secluded home. When he shuts off the car, he looks over at you and you’re still smiling. 

“This is a cute place, Joel,” you tell him, climbing out of the truck. 

He follows you and rounds the truck until he’s standing behind you. His fingers itch to reach out to touch you—especially when you raise your arms over your head to stretch, the ends of your shirt lifting just above the waistband of your denim shorts. He wants to touch every inch of you and he lets out a quiet grunt when you accidentally fall back against him. 

“Sorry,” you say, looking over at him from over your shoulder. 

“S’fine,” Joel mumbles and then walks past you to walk towards his front door. He unlocks it and opens it for you, watching you step across the threshold as you look around with curiosity. 

“It’s very dark in here,” you point out, walking further into his home. You see a light switch on the wall and flip it on, illuminating his entire home. Surprisingly, Joel’s large hand encompasses your wrist in a tight grip. You let out a quiet gasp and turn around to look up at him—eyes wide, lips slightly parted. 

“You always like to make yourself comfortable in a stranger’s home?” he asks with a threatening tone. 

“S–sorry,” you whisper, trying to pull your wrist away from his grip but he doesn’t budge. His grip just tightens. “Joel, you’re hurting me.”

“Pretty little thing,” he mumbles, stepping closer to you. “It’s like you were waitin’ f’me out there,” Joel says quietly. 

“Joel—”

“Shh.” Joel brings a finger up to your lips and his eyes drift down, moving his thumb to brush against you. “Shh, baby.” 

“I think I want to leave now,” you answer. “I think I just want to head into town and—”

“Oh darlin’,” he grins. “Ain’t no town for at least another fifty or some miles.” 

“B–But you said—”

“Guilty,” Joel interrupts, turning you so that your back presses against the wall. He cages you in, hand still gripping your wrist as the other comes up to rest gently over your throat. “M’sorry I lied to ya.” 

Your eyes widen in horror, the realization finally hitting you like a freight train. You had spent most of the drive admiring him—his broad frame, his quiet and mysterious nature, his large hands that gripped the steering wheel, his husky southern accent—that you ignored the feeling in the pit of your stomach. 

This was a bad idea. 

Getting into his truck was a bad fucking idea. 

“I just want to go home,” you whisper. “Please just let me go home and—”

“Shh,” he repeats. Joel steps closer to you, his nose brushing against your own. “Gonna keep you here all to myself. Been a while since I had a little plaything like yourself.” 

You shake your head. “Please, I’ll give you all the money I have back in my car.”

“Don’t want your money. Want you.” 

“Joel—”

“Love the way my name comes out of your mouth, darlin’. Say it again.”

You shake your head, closing your mouth shut. You know you’re in danger, but you’re not sure why you feel a familiar wetness pool between your legs. Your body is responding to him—to this stranger… this handsome fucking stranger who can easily strangle you if he wanted to. 

“Say. It. Again,” he repeats.

“Joel,” you whisper. 

“Good girl,” Joel grins proudly. He drops his hand from your throat and releases his grip around your wrist. He stares into your eyes, searching for any hesitation or any inclination that you’re going to run and leave. He sees your eyes flicker to the front door and he narrows his eyes—his large hand once more coming up to splay against your throat. Joel applies just a bit of pressure and he watches your eyes go wide again. “Wouldn’t think about it, if I were you.” 

You beg with your eyes—apologetic and pleading for him to just let you go. “I’ll be good,” you mumble against his grip. “I promise. I–I’ll be good.”

“We’re gonna have a lot of fun,” Joel nods, releasing his grip around your throat. “And I bet if I were to reach between your legs, I’d feel just how fuckin’ wet you are f’me, won’t I?”

You shake your head in defiance. “N–No…” 

Joel lets out a chuckle. “Mmm, that so?” He tugs on the waistband of your denim shorts and pulls you to him. He’s so rough and there’s an excitement that courses through your veins. He tugs down your shorts and panties down your legs, looking down at your white lacy thong with a grin. He can see a blotch of wetness and brings it to his nose, inhaling deeply as he lets out a contented sigh. “I bet you taste fuckin’ good too,” he whispers. 

You suddenly feel self-conscious and your hands immediately move to try and tug down the end of your shirt to cover your lower half. Joel just shakes his head and grabs your wrists to pin them above your head against the wall. You squirm against his grip and he kicks your legs apart, stepping in front of you to keep them spread open. His free hand comes down and immediately runs the pads of his fingers across the length of your sex—your body betrays you because you let out a quiet whimper as you arch your back against his touch. 

“Wet,” he points out. “You like this, don’t you?” 

You shake your head. 

“Liar,” he chuckles. Joel wastes no time in sliding two of his thick fingers past your folds—your warm, tight, and so fucking wet that a large grin spreads across his lips. 

You squirm against him at the sudden and rough intrusion, eyes gazing up at him. His eyes are dark, filled with lust and more than likely sinister thoughts, but you can’t help but notice his grin and the cute fucking dimple that appears on his cheek. You shouldn’t like this, but your body is yearning for more. Yearning for him. 

Joel’s thick fingers plunge into you repeatedly—his other hand gripping your wrists so tight above your head that you’re sure there’s going to be bruises. You shut your eyes tightly, keeping your lips in a thin line and forcing yourself to stay quiet because you know that if you make a sound, it’s only going to fuel him further. 

His eyes stare deeply at you and you’re so wet that Joel’s fingers pump into you with ease. He can see you struggling against his grip and he leans closer, lips near your ear as he whispers huskily. “Lemme hear you, baby.” 

You shake your head in defiance, pulling your lower lip between your teeth. You suck in a breath when his thumb brushes against your clit and a quiet—almost inaudible—moan escapes your lips. 

“Ah, darlin’,” Joel grins, gently nipping at your earlobe. His grip around your wrists loosen just slightly and he’s distracted, yearning to pull more sounds out of you and it gives you just the right moment to push him away. You miss his fingers immediately, a loud squelch echoing the walls when his fingers slip out of you. 

With as much strength as you can muster, you shove him so hard that he stumbles backwards with a grunt. You look around haphazardly, eyes wide, heart beating out of your chest. You’re very well aware that your lower half is bare, but you think maybe you can make a run for it—you just need to grab his keys, run out the door into his truck and drive away. 

You glance over your shoulder and Joel chuckles. He fucking laughs at your poor attempt at running away because he takes three strides in your direction and takes a fistful of your hair. You let out a loud yelp and he’s already quick to bend you over the back of his couch—the edge of it digging into your lower abdomen.

You’re already trying to squirm away, but his grip in your hair tightens and pain rushes through you. You’re about to beg him to stop, to beg him to let you go, but you feel his free hand connect with your backside. The slap reverberates through your entire being and the sound of his hand coming in contact with your ass echoes through his quiet home. 

“You just got here, baby,” he growls—he doesn’t let up, your skin already reddening with each spank. “You can’t leave me yet.”

“I–I–” you mumble and your body reacts automatically, pushing back into him. “Please!” 

“M’gonna have to tie you up, I think,” Joel grins. “Just to make sure you don’t pull that shit again.”

Your ass is beginning to sting and you try to scramble away, but Joel pulls you upright against him. His large hands move to your hips, fingertips digging into you as he uses your body to rub his bulge against you. 

“I think you’re gonna feel real good around me,” he whispers into your hair, hand sliding over your abdomen and down between your legs. “You’re actin’ like you ain’t enjoyin’ this, but you’re so fuckin’ wet f’me.” 

He begins to circle your clit with the pads of his fingers and it causes your back to arch against him, hands darting out to rest on the edge of the couch. A loud moan finally escapes your lips and Joel lets out a low growl at the sound—he wants to hear more of it, craves more of it. 

“From the way you’re squirmin’,” he continues, “Makes me wonder if you’ve been neglected.” 

You shake your head—lying.  

“Oh? Got a boyfriend back home, hm?” 

You shake your head again.

“Poor little thing,” Joel mumbles, head dipping down to the side of your neck as he presses his soft lips against you. It causes a shiver to run through you—his soft lips and his rough beard. “Don’t worry, baby. I’m here now. I’ll take care of ya.”

You’re an absolute mess by the time Joel’s done with you. You’re lying on his mattress, hands bound by rope and attached to the headboard. You’re completely bare for him and he’s brought you to the edge of orgasm too many times to count that you’re practically begging for some release. 

His hands are surprisingly gentle when he settles himself back between your legs and it causes you to flinch. His fingertips brush against your hardened nipples, dark bruises already forming around it from his love bites—he liked to call it. 

“You’re soakin’ my sheets, honey,” he grins. 

“Then let me fucking come!” you retaliate with a huff. Your eyes go wide the minute it leaves your mouth and you’re already trying to scramble away from him, despite being all tied up. 

Joel laughs again. “You’re cute when you’re angry, baby… but let’s not forget who’s in charge here.” 

He finally pulls the ends of his shirt over his head and you lift your own head off the pillow to get a good look at him. There’s no way this fucking man is in his fifties—you shake your head of the thoughts that begin to fill your mind. He has you here held captive and you’re sure that he’s going to kill you once he’s gotten what he needed. 

But you can’t help it. 

Joel’s fucking gorgeous. 

Is this what Stockholm syndrome is? Attracted to your captor? Whatever the fuck it is, you’re squirming impatiently. There’s a dull throb between your legs, an ache, a need for him to give you what you need. 

And he smiles. The same fucking dimple that appeared earlier that day is now in full display because Joel knows he’s got you right where he wants you. 

“Gonna be a good girl f’me? No more fightin’ back?” Joel begins, reaching down to tug his boxers down his strong legs. Once the fabric is gone from his body, your eyes widen once more at the sheer size of him. Girthy. Leaking at the tip. You’re not sure if it’d fit inside of you and Joel notices a flicker of uncertainty flash across your features. “We’ll make it fit, baby. Don’t you worry.”

You whimper quietly in response, feeling him brush his rounded tip against your opening. You try to wiggle your hips down, yearning for more, but he just pulls back and shakes his head. 

“Please,” you plead. You bat your eyes at him, gazing at him under the rim of your eyelashes. It’s a poor attempt at begging, at looking innocent because you look anything but that. 

Joel just lets a small smile line his lips before he pulls away and mounts your upper half. You clear your throat—the size of him this close almost threatening. 

“Don’t be gettin’ shy on me now,” he growls lowly. “Been pleasuring you for a while now, so it’s only fair that you return the favor.” 

“I–I haven’t come yet. Please just let me come and I’ll do anything—”

Joel clicks his tongue and runs the tip of his manhood across your mouth, smirking at the sight of his precome now on your lips. “You ain’t the one in charge here.” He pushes his tip past your lips and lets out a low groan. One hand moves to grip the headboard ahead of him as his other hand keeps a steady grip around the base of his length. “Open wider f’me,” he whispers. 

You have no choice but to obey—parting your lips wider and feeling more of his manhood slide into your mouth. You can feel the corners of your mouth stretch due to his girth. It isn’t long before he pushes further into your mouth, feeling him hit the back of your throat and you gag almost instantly. Tears sting your eyes and he only gives you a few seconds to breathe before he pushes back into you. 

You squeeze your legs together, trying to alleviate some pressure that has been building and building between your legs and the pit of your stomach. You glance up in his direction only to see Joel with his head tilted back, chest and neck exposed, and his eyes completely shut. A quiet groan escapes his lips as he begins to move his hips forward and backward—you swirl your tongue around him, hollow your cheeks and it causes him to moan loudly. 

And fuck, it’s a beautiful sound to come out of him. 

He’s moaning. He’s deep in his own pleasure. 

And it’s all because of you. 

By the time he pulls out of your mouth, Joel’s eyes snap open to look down at you. Lips swollen, tears streaking down the corner of your eyes. You’re so distracted by your desire to come that you don’t realize what could possibly happen once he’s done with you. 

You’re going to die. 

Joel is going to fucking kill you. 

And this cross country road trip you had originally planned was a stupid fucking idea. 

Joel sees a look of fear flash across your features and it only makes him smile, makes his cock jerk at the sight of you. He moves down your body and settles himself between your legs again. 

“Gonna fill you up now,” Joel nods. “And you’re gonna lie there and take it like a good girl.” 

You nod. 

His hand comes up to grip your chin roughly, staring into your eyes. “Say it.” 

“I–I’ll be good. I’ll take it like a good girl and—”

Without warning, Joel pushes fully into you in one stroke. You feel your body jerk upwards at the sudden intrusion and you’re lucky that you’re so wet because while he slides in so easily, you can’t help but feel the painful stretch to give way to his size. Your hands try to wiggle out of the bondage, but the rope just digs further into your skin—it’s like he expertly tied you in a way that the more you struggle, the tighter it gets. 

Joel’s hand moves from your chin to cup your breast, thumb brushing against your nipple as he remains still for a moment. “Feel so good,” he whispers, head dipping lower to brush his nose against yours. He can hear you panting heavily, lips parted slightly. “Like you were made f’me.” 

Then, Joel pulls out to his tip only to slam himself back into you. He repeats this movement multiple times and your moans—the ones that you’ve tried so desperately to hold back—finally escape your lips and mix in with the sounds of his skin slapping against yours. 

The bed rocks against the wall—his thrusts are so rough and you’re sure that your entire body is going to ache for the next few days. 

That is if you’re still alive by then.  

One hand moves to your hip as the other moves to wrap around your neck. He applies a bit of pressure to cut off your oxygen and you gasp, eyes wide as you stare up at him. 

Begging. 

Pleading. 

Not for him to stop… 

…but for more. 

Joel grins at that and continues his thrusts, the sensation of your walls sliding along his length only urging him closer and closer to release. He can feel the tightness in the pit of his stomach begin to unravel and he pulls out, not yet wanting to be done with you. 

When Joel does pull out of you, he releases his grip around your throat and hears you take one deep breath. You’re breathing heavily and he looks between your legs—so fucking wet, so swollen and he taps your clit gently with the tip of his manhood only to see you squirm. 

You’re sensitive, he thinks to himself with a grin. 

“Joel,” you whisper. At this rate, you don’t care if you die. Having him bring you on the edge of an orgasm only to stop is worse, you’re sure of it. 

“Gonna keep you here forever,” Joel says with a dark gaze. “You’re mine now. You understand?” 

You clear your throat and nod slowly—anything to get him to make you come. “Y–Yes, yours.” 

“Doesn’t sound too convincing.” 

“Fuck, Joel! Please,” you beg. “I don’t care what you do to me, please just let me come…” 

Joel chuckles—dark, sinister. He leans down and lightly pecks your lips before he climbs off the bed to look at you from top to bottom. “Like I said, you ain’t the one in charge here.” 

Your eyes stare at him and you notice the way his manhood stands fully erect, glistening with your arousal. He follows your gaze and smirks, reaching down to tug on it. “This what you want?” 

You nod. “Please.” 

“So if I untie you, you gonna be a good girl and obey?” Joel contemplates, still stroking the base of his length. His hand doesn’t feel as good as being inside of you and he almost loses his resolve. 

But he doesn’t. 

Joel’s patient. 

“Y–Yes, please,” you plead once more. 

“Love hearin’ you beg, darlin’,” he grins. Joel slowly reaches over and begins to untie the rope around your wrists but he makes sure that his attention is focused on you. He needs to make sure that you’re not going to run again. 

Once the rope is finally undone, you roll your wrists and touch the bruises around it. You flinch and then look up at him—eyes still pleading. 

“One wrong move and I’m tyin’ you up again. You hear me?” Joel growls, seeing you move to sit up. You nod in agreement and he tugs on your ankle, pulling you to the edge of the bed with such force that you let you a quiet yelp. 

Joel flips you onto your abdomen and grabs your hips, lifting you up so that you’re now on all fours on his mattress. He comes up behind you and slides into you with warning—again. 

A loud moan escapes your lips and you fall forwards—cheek resting against his mattress, eyes fully shut tight, and your hands gripping the sheets so tightly that your knuckles turn white. 

“Feel even tighter this way,” Joel points out with a grunt. 

Your toes curl at his rough assault against you. It’s like he’s possessed, so territorial and so animalistic that his thrusts drive you further into the mattress. You wanted this, but you can’t help the pain that shoots through you at his size. Joel’s by far the biggest you’ve ever had and it wasn’t like you had a healthy sex life before this. 

“Fuck!” You scream, now trying to scramble away from him because it’s too much. He’s edged you for too long that you’re sure you can’t even get there—your body is humming and you can feel the familiar sensation in the pit of your stomach. You’re close and Joel knows. 

He laughs and grips your hips, pulling back onto him with such force that you arch your back. Joel grabs your arms and pins them at your lower back as he pulls your body forward and backward against him. He glances down and sees just how wet you are—the hair at his base completely damp from your arousal. 

“You wanted to come… then fuckin’ come,” Joel groans, pulling you up against his chest. He grunts into your ear as he keeps your arms pinned at your lower back. His other hand reaches around and dips lower to begin circling your clit against the pads of his fingertips. 

You moan so loud that it echoes throughout his home. Your head tilts back against his shoulder and he drags his teeth across the side of your neck—both your bodies now covered in a thin sheet of sweat. 

“J–Joel, I–,” a loud sob escapes your lips when you finally reach your orgasm. Your body shakes against his own and his thrusts don’t let up—still hammering into you from behind and using your slickness and tightened walls to bring himself closer to his own release. 

“Fuck,” he groans against you, releasing your arms and pinning you back onto the mattress. His hips sling against your own—Joel is literally fucking you into the mattress and you’re already so fucking sensitive that you try to move away. 

Fuck him. If he wanted to deny you of your orgasm, you can do the same to him. 

But it’s no use. Joel’s so much stronger and his large hands grip your hips so tightly that you feel pain from it. 

“S’cute,” he says in between thrusts. “Thinkin’ you can run away.” Joel grunts lowly, chasing his own orgasm. “Can promise you one thing, baby…” He slams into you once more and releases his warm seed into you—paints your tight and wet walls with his come. He leans forward, pushing further into you as his tip kisses your cervix. “You ain’t ever leavin’ me.” 

He presses soft kisses along your shoulder before he pulls out, watching with a smirk to see his come trickle out of you and down your legs. 

“You’re stranded, darlin’. Ain’t no one comin’ to save you,” Joel grins. “And I ain’t even done with you yet.”

[ruesol]

Mechanic Sukuna purposely lies about your car so he can see you again.

Notes: not proofread, fem!reader

main masterlist

Sweaty, grimy, and greasy. Three adjectives you’d use to describe the local repair shop. It was always filled with muscled men who always seemed to have a permanent scowl on their face, intimidating anyone who wanted help with their vehicle.

Which is why you always sent your (only) male friend there to order any kind of complicated repair work on your behalf. As a woman, you did not want to be subject to all the scrutinizing stares and intentionally inflated prices for services that would otherwise be cheap or free of charge.

Your car was your baby. A haven if you will. It was much better to take naps in there rather than sit and do homework in the library during the long gaps in your class schedule. It was the best to use in the late months of spring, with the AC blowing right in your face as you dreamt about sleeping on an iceberg.

But alas, it also had to break down when the heat was at its highest and your friend had gone on a trip with his partner.

You were now conditioned to go to the place you dreaded most. You got rid of all your pretty accessories stuck and dangling off of different parts of your car. You were not going to be a victim of chauvinism. Especially not by mechanics- it just hurts more with them of all people.

As expected, all eyes were on you (mainly because you were the only girl in the shop and you looked like you had seen a ghost). All the men there looked like they belonged to a gang- brutish, crass words slipping out of their mouths like it was nothing, grease all over their faces, and regular safety uniforms altered to show off their muscle tank tops.

Your eyes just shifted around the place. You weren’t even sure how the system worked. Were you supposed to walk over to them or did they just come to you? Did you have to get an appointment before arriving like it was a doctors office or-

“I recognize that dump.”

You turned to see who in their right mind had to say that about your ass. You hadn’t been hit on a lot in your life, but you knew how to differentiate between flattery and sexual harassment. The other men were quick to go back to their tasks, not wanting to watch your reaction.

“Excuse me?” You squeaked out with as much anger in your voice as possible (you were more like a yipping Pomeranian).

The pink haired man in front of you looked like the definition of bad news. Stark black tattoos against his pale skin, burn and cut scars all over his arms, and his pink hair was pulled back by a black bandana. With the way him and the other men looked, it seemed like all mechanics had to do a course in ‘Intimidation 101: how to look like a convict.’

“Talkin’ ‘bout your car, sweetheart. Some guy is always comin’ in here with that thing.”

Sweetheart. Passive aggressive prick

“Oh, I’m sorry. That guy’s my friend. This is actually my car and the AC is just not working properly. I think it’s broken.”

You watched as he walked over to your car and examined the interior. “Flaps are fine. I think we might have to open it up and take a good look inside. Might even have to replace the thing.”

He noticed your shifty gaze, probably worried about how much you were going to have to pay for the whole thing. Adorable.

“I know a guy who gives discounts for it. You a college student?” His unnaturally handsome face looks concerned for you. You weren’t expecting it but you welcomed it. With caution of course. You nodded meekly while looking at him. Maybe mechanics weren’t scammy towards women after all.

He clapped his hands and grinned, sharp canines visible in all their glory. The man looked like the human version of a tiger. “Then it’s basically free. Don’t worry about the cost. You can leave your car here. Want me to call an uber for ya?”

He noticed the not-so-discreet glances from his coworkers but kept his eyes trained on your wimpish face.

“I’m alright. Um, thank you. Do I have to leave my number or do you guys have that on file?”

“We do have a number but I’m guessing that belongs to your friend cause he’s always the one to come here and pick your car up after service.”

“You’re right. I think I might have to give mine.”

As stupid as it sounds, he wanted to do a cartwheel, it’s like everything was falling into place. Cute girl with car problems, no boyfriend (as far as he knows), and he gets her number.

He was going to get a celebratory beer after work.

His colleagues could see the pep in his step but didn’t bother to say anything knowing that you were still there- even if you looked like your mind wasn’t present.

He returned with a clipboard and bit the inside of his cheek to stop himself from scaring you with his beaming smile.

“I’m Sukuna by the way.” He smirked as he noticed the deep blush on your cheeks. You stammered out your name to him and he swore that he could almost envision it on an elegant white card a few years from now.

“See you soon,” he said before walking away with a new air of confidence around his gait.

After you left, his friend, Toji, abandoned the car he was working on to follow Sukuna to the office. “There’s no way in hell you know someone who can install a new AC for free. I paid hundreds to fix mine.” Sukuna didn’t even look at his friend while he was talking. He just kept staring at you through the window while you were getting into your cab.

“There’s nothing wrong with her AC. She just needed to clean the filters.”

__

New serie- who said that? 👁️👄👁️

[ozzgin]

Yandere! Yakuza x Reader (IV)

Happy Holidays! Remember your plans to visit friends and family back in your home country? Scratch that. The Yakuza men have other ideas for you in this cozy Christmas special. And you finally get to meet their fearsome Boss, who has a request for you.

Content: female reader, fluff

[Part 3] | [Part 5] | [Yakuza Masterlist]

You stare at your phone in disbelief, rereading each line and hoping you've misunderstood the kanji. Daitou and Kazuya are quietly frowning behind you, unsure how to help in such a situation. Their lack of response only confirms it.

The brief paragraph is written in bold, red font: Due to weather conditions, all flights are cancelled until further notice. Passengers have been refunded and will need to repurchase their tickets at first convenience.

One glimpse at the last-minute prices and you're certain of it: you won't be going home for Christmas. You slouch and sigh, somewhat at peace with the idea. What else can you do? You might as well get yourself a KFC bucket and stare at the holiday lights in the city center. You and the couples taking cheesy Christmas selfies, who will later wonder about the gloomy loner behind them philosophically crunching on spicy wings.

"Don't look so defeated, (Y/N). You can just spend that time with us instead. We're not such terrible company, are we?" Kazuya jokes, trying to cheer you up.

"We could even go on a trip around New Year."

Your eyes light up in anticipation, the sadness vanishing almost instantly. 

"Can we go to one of those hot spring inns? I've always wanted to visit an onsen." You put your hands together pleadingly. 

"Whoa! Take me out to dinner first if you're that eager to see me naked." The blonde man winks at you smugly. 

"How would I see you naked? The baths are separated, aren't they?" You inquire. 

"We can't go to the regular ones." Daitou pulls his collar slightly downwards, revealing a fragment of his traditional tattoos. True. A yakuza would never be allowed among the civilians. "We'd have to book a private bath, so there wouldn't be anyone else."

You blush at the prospect of being alone with the two men. Kazuya notices your nervousness and is about to continue his teasing, but Daitou speaks before him, unbothered and oblivious:

"Besides, you've already seen me naked. I can tell you Kazuya doesn't look much different. There's nothing to be shy about."

The blonde man can only gawk, taken aback, and you shove Daitou in a flustered panic, fumbling to find an excuse or a change of subject.

He didn't have to make your business public like that, or he could've at least announced it without you being present. Judging by the blonde's speechless reaction, you're guessing he hasn't been told about your sneaky office smooching that led to the occasional sleepover. If you think about it, there's nothing shameful about being intimate with your boyfriend, but...It's not something you're fully accustomed to yet.

As promised, after the coworker incident you were soon greeted with a job offer in the neighborhood. When you went to your old office to discuss the mandatory year contract, the managers nervously handed you an approval for resignation and refused to discuss any details. You were free to go, no penalty or obligation. They had a fearful demeanor and you hoped Daitou didn't dismember anyone involved. Regardless of his means, you were now at the liberty to pursue other careers.

On the other hand, you were rather anxious about your new workplace. You had flashing visions of drug cartels and gambling parlors, with thugs rattling their drinks at you and demanding proper service. Windows breaking and masked men rolling onto the floor, armed to the brim. Ginza hostesses scurrying behind you and asking for help against an angered client. The night before your first day, you restlessly shuffled in your bed, plagued by second thoughts. What could you possibly do for the yakuza? What ghoulish demands would they prepare for you?

Daitou was the one to accompany you in the morning. He showed you to your desk, and you could discern the blurred frames of people angrily discussing matters in the opposing meeting room, separated by a large window. You gulped.

"They're building a new apartment complex two streets down." Your boyfriend mentioned casually, helping you settle with your belongings. 

"Huh?"

"Oh, sorry, I thought you were curious about their talk."

"I mean, I am, but...Is that it?" You gazed at him incredulously. 

"What else? This is a real estate office. Upstairs is the stock investments."

"Oh...Oh...I thought..." You were a little embarrassed. The imaginary scenarios of bloody battles and crimes that kept you awake felt quite ridiculous now.

Daitou seemed to have picked up on your assumptions, because he chuckled and ruffled your hair, following with an explanation. 

"Boss is very strict with our Ninkyo-Do. If you're caught with drugs or petty theft, you're excommunicated. We used to have a bunch of gambling casinos as main income, but nowadays there's too much pressure from the police, ya know? Half of our members aren't even officially registered with the Yakuza, so they can't be tracked. We mostly do stocks and real estate. That's where the cash is. 

Heh. Kinda boring, ain't it? I'm afraid you showed up way after the golden times. Even I'm too young for it. If ya want, I can ask one of the retired seniors to tell you about it. He has a lot of great stories."

You held your tongue from bringing up his frequent killing sprees and just nodded, amused by the fact that his code of conduct didn't register human casualties as wrong. The Yakuza have strict rules of ethics that set them apart from regular mafia. Depending on the Oyabun, or Head of the Family, this chivalrous way of living is reinforced to all members or conveniently swept under the rug. Daitou's Boss seemed to fit in the former category. 

Therefore your "office job" turned out to be an actual office job without the quotes. Although you were often reminded the people passing by weren't your regular salarymen. Many of them were entirely transparent with you, striking up conversations about their latest arrest, or complaining about the poor quality of their pinky finger prosthetic they'd ordered from the Philippines. 

But this isn't the time to reminisce. The prolonged silence is unbearable and one could fry eggs on your hot, burning cheeks. Kazuya is the one to break the awkwardness. 

"Oh, yeah...You coming to the Christmas thing this evening?"

"We'll be there." Daitou smiles innocently, unaware of the discomfort he just caused.

Kazuya raises his eyebrows in surprise and looks at you.

"Did you...?"

"Yup. It's all fine." The dark haired man nods reassuringly. 

"Then I'll see you at dinner, little (Y/N). Don't catch a fever with all that steam blowing out of you." He laughs at your still baffled expression and places his large hand on your head, departing.

Daitou holds the door open for you and you hurry inside. As you both walk down the hallway of the luxurious restaurant, you can't help the nagging feeling that he's once again omitted some vital information. 

"Can you tell me again who else is coming? Just Kazuya?"

"Oh no, it's a Family meeting. So Boss and the rest of the Seniors, too."

You gasp in horror, but before you can scold him, you find yourself behind the canvas screen divider, facing a table of older men in suits, holding their drinks and eyeing you suspiciously. 

"Oi, who the fuck is this, Daitou?" one of them growls. 

"I already told you before, (Y/N). My girlfriend."

"Huh? Did you seriously just bring a civvy to our meeting? I knew you got a loose screw, boy, but this tops it all."

Daitou frowns and steps in front of you, visibly annoyed. 

"If ya got a problem with my woman being here, I can settle it for you, old man. When was the last time you fought someone?"

"'s that supposed to mean?"

"It means you've gotten too comfortable sitting up there and barking orders. Let me remind you why they leave the killings to me."

The thick tension in the air is quickly dispersed by a loud, relaxed laugh. At the end of the table, a heavily scarred man with grey hair is clapping his hands in delight, seemingly amused by the events unfolding. He glances at you and pats a cushioned seat to his right. 

"There you are! Come join us, miss (Y/N). Ignore those rusty grumps, they ain't seen a woman outside a host club." He throws the instigator a brief glare. "Is that any way to talk to my guest, Oota?"

The man swallows dryly and mutters an apology. He goes back to his drink, preoccupied, and the rest follow suit. 

You hesitantly kneel down to your designated place, sheepishly peeking at the mysterious figure. Could it be? As if reading your mind, Daitou places an encouraging hand on your waist and lowers his head to your ear, swiftly whispering "that's Boss" before going to greet the others at the table. 

"I-it's a pleasure meeting you, Sir." You mumble nervously.

"No no, pleasure is all mine. I'm Eiji Ijichi, 8th Head of our Family." 

His introduction is unexpectedly warm and his easygoing way of speaking reminds you a lot of Daitou. The faintest grin threatens to appear, but you cover your mouth. With enough imagination, this could be the equivalent of meeting your in-laws. This is Daitou's family, after all. A criminally scary one, but nonetheless you've been welcomed with open arms.

"Do you drink?" The older man asks you, raising his porcelain cup.

"Naturally." You exclaim and lift your own cup enthusiastically. 

"Attagirl!"

As the night progresses, the men at the table are loosening up under the influence of expensive alcohol. Kazuya seems to be caught in a terribly involved conversation with Daitou and one of their Captains, gesturing dramatically and occasionally raising his tone. You notice your glass has once again been filled by the waitress and take another sip, satisfied with observing their fun from the sidelines. Boss has a similar approach, gazing nostalgically over the rowdy group of thugs.

He reaches for his pack of smokes and you scramble to pick up the lighter, politely bowing as you light up his cigarette. He smiles at your gesture. 

"I see Daitou's trained you already."

He ponders for a moment, gently blowing a cloud of smoke upwards. 

"You'll make a good wife."

"Excuse me?" You question, startled by his sudden remark. 

"It's hard to tell, but I'm getting pretty old myself." He snickers at his self made compliment. "Soon it'll be time to pick my successor. I have no children, unless you count that rascal I picked from the streets." He says as he tilts his chin towards Daitou. 

"I love him like my own kid, but I'm sure you noticed he's a little off. Everyone is terrified of him. You can't have a leader if everyone runs away from him, ya know? I was starting to get worried I'd work myself through retirement. Kazuya can only do so much!

Then he comes up to me grinning like an idiot. I thought, 'There it is. He finally lost it', but instead he asks me if I want to see a photo of his girlfriend. Girlfriend?! I was ready to witness some crusty body pillow, my hand was on the phone to call our Family doctor. He shows me a cute foreigner standing next to him. Now I'm pretty sure he's not smart enough to fake photos like that, so it must be the real deal. 'How the Devil did ya pull this one?' I asked him. Cause listen, I was rather handsome back in my day and I still wouldn't have been this lucky.

And would ya look at that, it's the miss that moved into our apartments! How's the living conditions, by the way? Everything going fine?"

You nod energetically.

"Good, good."

He crosses his arms and nods himself, satisfied. He turns to gaze at you intently, with a face you can't quite read.

"You gotta excuse a drunk old man for rambling so much. What I'm trying to say...well...

Take care of him when he becomes the 9th, will ya? If he has you, I'm sure he'll manage. But don't tell him I said that! You gotta keep them humble. See, that's a lesson for you too. If there's one person the Head of the Family bows to, that's his wife! But I doubt he'd let the power get to his head."

You both turn to Daitou. He just finished pouring more sake to his superior and notices your stare. He blushes slightly and waves, unsure why he's suddenly being observed. 

"I think so, too." You respond, waving back. 

How would that look on a CV? Ane-san of a Yakuza family. 

[mimiamorewon]

jjk men’s favorite place to have sex 

—★ mdni, reblogs appreciated 

included: gojo, geto, nanami, toji, sukuna, choso, takuma, & higuruma

content: (these are mostly jokes lol), suggestiveness, fluff, crack, explicit language

Satoru Gojo

Favorite place: The balcony of some skyscraper because he just loves being above everyone else. both literally and figuratively.

Gojo’s would no doubt go for maximum drama. He’d make jokes like, “Don’t worry, I’ll catch you if you fall,” whole time he’s the clumsy one who might just end up tripping over his own pants.

Suguru Geto

Favorite place: A quiet hot spring or getaway in the middle of nowhere, with a no-cell-service guarantee.

Geto absolutely loves the peace and beauty of it all, but there’s definitely a part of him that enjoys “embracing his mysterious villain energy,” as stated in his own words.

He’s the type to randomly monologue about the stars or the meaning of life mid-act, leaving you wondering if you’re being seduced or lectured. +Bonus points if he can dramatically pull his hair back as steam swirls around him like he’s in a perfume commercial. “Are we even here for the sex at this point?” you’d ask him.

Kento Nanami

favorite place: A swanky, ultra-modern hotel room, preferably one with a nice view and complimentary breakfast for the morning after.

Nanami is a man of precision and schedules, so the location must be clean, practical, and include its perks.

He insists on the bed being neatly made before and after. he’s not a heathen, after all.

The whole time, he’s probably calculating how many hours of sleep he’s losing and debating if it’s worth it (It always is.)

Toji Fushiguro 

Favorite place: The backseat of a stolen car, possibly still running, most likely in a fast-food parking lot.

Toji thrives on things like chaos and bad decisions, so naturally, he’s picking somewhere dangerous and trashy.

He’s definitely cracking jokes mid-action, like, “Think the cops’ll give us five minutes if they show up?” 

If the car is manual, he’ll probably accidentally hit the clutch at some point. but it’s all part of the “fun” he says.

Ryomen Sukuna

Favorite place: On the throne of his spooky, abandoned temple, surrounded by ominous torches.

Sukuna is extra in every sense of the word. He’ll insist on a spot where he looks like a final boss in a video game. +Bonus points if there’s a sacrificial altar nearby for “the aesthetic.”

He doesn’t have an inch of subtleness within him. He’d definitely say things like, “Bow before your king” while you’re simply just trying to bust a nut.

Choso Kamo 

Favorite place: A private moonlit garden, probably near a koi pond (he read online that it’d be romantic.)

Choso is sweet but awkward, so he’s constantly trying his best to nail the mood. He’ll light a million candles and bring up random facts about flowers- “Did you know they symbolize eternal love?”

He doesn’t even care about the location, it just has to feel meaningful. 

If you reassure him he’s doing great, he might actually shed a tear mid-session.

Bonus!!!!

Takuma Ino

Favorite place: A public library after hours. (breaking small rules is as edgy as he gets).

Ino thinks he’s being super daring, but the whole time he’s whispering, “Shh, baby, don’t get too loud..” like a paranoid hall monitor.

He’s the type to accidentally knock over a stack of books mid-action and panic, saying, “Holy shit— we’re gonna get banned from libraries forever.”

Hiromi Higuruma

Favorite place: A courtroom after hours, with papers dramatically scattered everywhere.

Higuruma is a walking contradiction, so of course, he’s picking the most ironically serious place possible.

He’s 100% the type to sigh mid-moment and say something like, “This feels wrong huh? but that’s what makes it right.” 

He’d definitely joke about “objecting” if you’d try to rush things due to your fear of being caught. 

@nanaslutt for the layout inspo !╰(*´︶`*)╯♡

[superbat-lmao]

Alfred takes his first vacation 9 months after Jason comes to stay at the manor. He’s in England for two weeks visiting friends and traveling through his old homeland.

Jason and Bruce are home alone with each other and Jason has really only started to get comfortable. It’s a long two weeks, but they make it through.

When he comes back, he gives Jason a small souvenir he brought back with him and Jason asks him a million and one questions about how it went and who he saw. Alfred laughs and says that for Jason’s spring break the two of them should take a trip there together. They could go see some plays or the royal ballet or even visit some of the castles. Jason is a little stunned at the idea but is very excited. He asks if Alfred ever took Bruce or Dick.

Alfred says that neither of them had a particular interest in some of the things he did, but that they took other trips together. Jason ask if he’ll get to meet some of Alfred’s friends from the service or if he can see where Alfred went to school or any one of a hundred other questions.

Jason’s nervous when it’s finally time to go to England but Alfred tells him Bruce offered to drop them off in the batplane so they wouldn’t have to take public transit. It’s also so Bruce can say goodbye at the absolute last minute. Because it’s only a week, but Jason’s only been with him about a year and been formally adopted less than half that time.

So Alfred shows him as much as he can. They go to the theater and Alfred takes Jason to his favorite play. They go to the ballet together, visit some castles, it’s peaceful in a way Gotham isn’t. And for how used to the city Jason is, Alfred brings him down to a steadier pace.

They have a lot of fun and Jason only ignores directions once on account of not being able to hear him too well when they’re taking the tube in London, which is easily forgiven.

Jason asks Alfred about other holidays he took in Europe, or the other countries he’s traveled to. It’s when Jason himself really begins to open up about his life on the streets or living with Willis or Catherine. Alfred is sharing so many stories with him that Jason slowly starts to reciprocate.

Alfred introduces Jason to two of his old friends, one who owns a pub and tries to let Jason have a sip of beer and the other whose wife runs a shop that Jason picks out souvenirs for Bruce and Dick from.

When it’s time for Bruce to come pick them up, Jason asks if they’ll come back. Not on all of Alfred’s vacations, but on shorter ones together. Alfred says he would be delighted to do so.

[octuscle]

hi chronivac guys I wonder if it's possible to become the guy in your disclaimer with the cap and the evil grin or is he just a model for your service? I'm a broker and I really need a timeout like spring break for not being serious

Brother, you should know better than anyone that everything on this planet is a question of price. I will gladly organize a premium spring break for you as my stupid, constantly horny twin brother. I'll send the vouchers for the trip by email and the preset for the Chronivac directly to your app. The setting is such that you should activate it as soon as you're on your way to the airport.

The Uber is right on time in front of the apartment building on the Upper Eastside. As you load your Hermès laptop bag and Rimowa suitcase, the doorman asks you why you're not getting into your limousine but into this pathetic car. You don't react at all, sign out for the next week and get into the back of the car. It smells of sweat, cheap deodorant and tobacco. The driver is perhaps in his early 20s and tells you his whole life story without being asked. He studies business administration and earns a little extra money as an Uber driver. The rents in Manhattan are simply murderous. Instead of looking annoyed out of the window, you ask if you can have a cigarette. Only if you give him one too. Sure thing, bro. That's how it is among Uber drivers. You would do the same, otherwise you wouldn't be able to afford your apartment. The driver asks how many hours you drive to afford an apartment in the building. You laugh and say that your parents live there. When you arrive in Newark, you talk like college buddies. You say goodbye with a fist bump and ask if you're from New Jersey too. In the broadest accent imaginable, you reply that he can take his chances.

You take your army duffel bag and sports bag out of the trunk and look for your check-in desk. You look at your boarding pass. Damn, you're flying with Spirit Airlines? With a change in Atlanta? Who booked this shit? There are already dozens of people in the baggage drop-off queue who obviously want to go to Tampa too. Boomboxes are competing for the most annoying music, even if the sun isn't shining, everyone seems to be sticking to the sun's out, guns out rule. And caps are only worn backwards, of course. You turn your cap backwards. And stuff your down vest into your duffel bag. Sun's out, guns out is written on your mesh fabric tank top.

You almost missed your flight in Atlanta. You're already pretty drunk and one of the guys had his travel bong with him. In a two-hour layover, a bit of weed isn't bad. Thank God you're equipped with enough weed. The sale should finance your vacation. After all, your airbnb room right on the beach wasn't cheap.

You can only use the hour and a half flight to Tampa to sleep off your high. But as soon as you leave the airport building, you take part in a beer can drinking contest. Burp! Hehehe, you had plenty of practice last semester, you deserved to win.

By the time you get to your shared room, it's already 11:00 pm. The party is in full swing at the pool. You quickly take a picture of yourself and post it on Instgram. Caption: "Watch out stallions n mares, jersey stud is in town" Let the party begin!

[todorokies]

DEATH AND THE MAIDEN - choso kamo

✩࿐ choso finds meaning in this hellish world within the confines of your bedroom . . .

contents: nsfw, softdom!fem reader, cunnilingus, hair pulling, implications that reader is someone with high status of royalty, choso is reader’s courtier, sub!choso, slapping (just once), power dynamics, choso calls reader ‘m’lady’, nineteenth century gothic victorian era, installment of my spookfest event

a/n: this is a bit more lengthy than my usual work however i hope u all enjoy !! pls support by reblogging

the haunting hours of midnight has struck causing the grandfather clock from above to make its presence known with three loud echoing chimes rumbling the surface below. the silent night was perfect for the noticed to go unnoticed within the dark palace.

choso finds himself hurrying his pace, swiftly avoiding the huge stained glass windows that reflected the moonlight throughout the long corridor. leaning towards the shadows despite the residents having long blown out their candles that rest on their nightstands the fear of getting caught cannot be shaken out of his psyche.

with each thudding step he took it felt as if the corridor was elongating on it’s own preventing him from reaching his one and only, his small taste of spring after an everlasting winter, the only one to pull him out of the ongoing cycle of misery.

soon enough, he finds himself stationed infront or your detailed baroque door. his body thinks faster than his mind raising his chuckles to knock a specific tune to notify you it’s him.

the door opens with faint creaks revealing you clad in a white frilly nightgown that hit just above the knees. the sheer and delicate fabric cascaded your body and heavily outlined the curve of your tits. choso silently cursed himself for already feeling his cock pathetically throb at the mere sight of you,

“would you care to come in?” you break him out of the enchanting spell you unknowingly cast upon him.

he sheepishly clears his throat, “yes of course, m’lady.” he steps in, taking note of the spike in temperature compared to the cold hallway.

“you can drop the formalities when it’s just us, you know?”

“i rather not m’lady, i still want to show you respect despite how improper we act towards each other.” you simply hum in acknowledgment, moving to face him, to soak in his beauty that must only be examined under the divine moonlight.

the hefty dark circles that clings onto his skin leaves you in awe. as you lift a finger to graze his thick birth mark that gracefully paints over his nose, he stills his breath, leaning his forehead against yours with his eyes closed.

“something on your mind, cho?” he falters a bit due to the nickname —the concept of improper name calling is foreign to him— having to catch his own footing before tripping; your voice is dipped in honey. it stirs warmth in the pit of his stomach.

“same old stuff that usually sits on my mind.” he grimaces and you sport a frown knowing he is hinting at the stubborn thoughts that trouble him at night.

he notices a few creases on your forehead and plants a chaste kiss to calm your nerves, “don’t worry, that’s my job remember? i’m here to service and cater to your needs.”

“is that why you’ve ask me to accompany you tonight? you need my services?” he refers to the note you slipped in the palm of his hand earlier in the day regarding a fitting of a dress. when in truth, it was a hoax to lure him in your quarters alone.

if anything in that note was truthful, you wanted him to take off the current sleepwear that covers your body.

dismissing his inquiry, you wrap your arms around his neck with your fingers finding solace at the nape, leaning in to enclose the small distance of air between the two of you.

soft mostizured lips captures his icy cold ones, it’s uncomfortable at first, jagged with errors and teeth clashing until choso’s hands sneak around your waist to pull you closer, finding himself relaxing to your scent that engulfed him.

feeling him melt against your figure, you take the initiative to dip your tongue into his mouth swirling around, exploring new territory. his knees buck wildly, feeling his bulge graze over the feathering fabric of your nightgown; feeling everything he beholds.

you’ve got him right where you want him.

you abruptly break the kiss, a thin string of saliva shimmers in your retreat from his lips as you lead him towards the foot of your bed.

with gentle force you send him onto his knees and a light thud echos from the wooden floors. you then take a seat on the bed positioning yourself directly infront of him.

“i do demand a unique kind of service only you can preform for me.” with furrowed brows, he looks up at you with curiosity. not understanding your vague statement until you hike up your thin nightgown and widen your legs to give him a closer glance at your glistening cunt dripping with arousal.

choso’s breath gets caught in his throat. his mouth suddenly runs dry as his eyes flicker from your face and back to your slicked folds, needy and ready for him.

just for him.

a sharp stinging pain across his check snaps him out of his daze, “it’s rude to stare choso, especially at a lady waiting for her demanded services.” your stern voice combined with the quick slap has him scrabbling to attach his mouth immediately onto your throbbing clit.

he uses his tongue to expertly swirl around it, lewdly lapping at the sensitive nub. slick smears his chin as faint suckling and squelching bounces off the walls. his cold callused hands etch soothing patterns on your outer thighs. your hands grips at the root of his black locks of hair tugging occasionally to serve as encouragement.

soft whines and angelic moans carelessly leaves your lips. his tongue moves in vertical strides from your hole to your puffy clit then finally dipping his wet muscle in your drooling hole. he moans as he can taste you better like this.

so sweet and savoury.

he darts his tongue in and out at a slow antagonizing pace. wanting nothing more than to collect every last drop you’d offer for him —a privilege he refuses to take for granted— however his speed did not please you in the slightest. you forcefully tug at his hair to bring him eye to eye, his already fucked out expression proves he wasn’t thinking clearly.

“you are in no position of power to prolong my pleasure, remember that choso.” you warn him cautiously.

he nods profusely seeking your forgiveness, “my apologies m’lady. you just taste so sweet, can i please continue?” you don’t give him an answer instead you tug his face back at your pussy.

he moves his tongue vigorously with confidence this time, even adding his thumb to rub tight circles on your clit. the room gets even hotter as if the fireplace was roaring it’s scorching flames, breathy groans seep out of choso’s mouth bringing you closer to your release.

for as long as he can remember, choso has always questioned his existence. what sole meaning does he serve on this earth?

but once he sees your face scrunch up in pleasure and thrashing your pretty little head around whilst gently pinching at your perky nipples, everything clicks.

his sole purpose is to serve you. to please you in very aspect of life and in return he gets filled with a warm sense of belonging and love that softly kneads at his usually cold heart.

you cum hard on his tongue with a loud moan that would surely awaken the entire palace.

but at that very moment, choso would only gently lick you clean while being mindful to not overstimulate you, kiss you with devotion to calm you down and help you hydrate yourself.

you are his hopeful source of life that accompanies his woeful death; hand and hand you both complete each other’s soul.

tags: @chososwhoresblog

reblogs and feedback is extremely appreciated !! <3

[rheya28]

DMC - [Chapter 7: Atwood Industries] "How's the meeting with Mr. Clarington?" Jolene asked. Leo rolled up his sleeves and leaned back on his chair. He explained how difficult the old man was being. "He wants to finish the project by the end of the year…but it's not ready. I don't want to risk fcking this project up because of his impatience" Leo sighed as he thought about the company his father had built. Atwood Industries is a highly renowned and respected company in the construction and manufacturing industry, with a reputation for creating exceptional buildings and furniture designs. With a track record of being at the top of its game for several decades, the company has consistently produced high-quality products and services that have earned them the trust and loyalty of their customers… he's not going to let this man fuck them over. " You need a break... how bout we go on a quick trip to Oasis Springs?" Jolene asked flirtatiously. Leo smirked, clearly amused by the idea.

[prev] ❀ [next] [beginning] ❀

[ofallthingsnasty]

Can I get a ticket to the long night of museums with Sanji, please? Thank you!

Sanji, my love... Of course I had to get this done for my birthday today... He's both more and less intense compared to canon, you'll see what I mean 🤭 Modern AU as with Rosi! Thank you so much for playing!

🎂nasty's 2024 birthday event (open until April 6th)🎂

Your order:

1 x ticket to The Long Night of Museums with Sanji! (Adult only, exhibition might contain content such as stalking and heavy dubcon, proceed at your own risk.

Sanji knew exactly what he was doing when he asked to man the window after he started working in that tiny, decade-old restaurant right in the middle of the old quarter. He gets to have it all - he can both pursue his passion and feast his eyes on the hungry swaths of tourists that descend upon the city come the first sunny days of spring. Dressed in their finest, they hem and haw over the beautiful old buildings that look like they somehow fell through time into the 21st century, still as picturesque as ever. Always happy (because hey, they’re on vacation, right?) with pockets meters deep and insatiable after trekking through the whole town. It’s good for his pride to provide them with a hard-earned meal and bad for his heart because every beautiful smile breaks it after leaving, time and time again. Every fleeting fancy has him sighing as they turn around to new adventures while he stays right where he is. It has never really bothered him - such is life, he figures - until he spots you; round-eyed and hungry right at his counter, your accent a dead giveaway that you’re a foreigner.

It’s strange, really - maybe it’s because you eat his food with rarely seen awe or maybe it’s because you’re just the embodiment of the word cute - it doesn’t matter, he feels a little extra smitten with you. But as they all do, you leave, get lost in the crowd until he can't spot you anymore and the next customer waits for him, money in their hands. He takes a deep breath, erases the dozen little daydreams his brain cooked up in the five minutes the two of you interacted with and puts his best costumer service smile on.

And then you’re there again the next day, around the same time and he balks at the sight of you. Just like yesterday, wearing another (equally cute) outfit, with some cash already tucked into your fist. I had to come back, you say, a bashful grin on your face. Can’t enjoy this for long and it’s just so good! Oh, he’s done for, he just knows it. Fate gave him a second chance (or just confirmation?) and he’d be an idiot to ruin this.

It’s so easy to spot the card of your hotel when you fumble with it to get your wallet and even easier to wait in front of your little abode later that night until you stop by to freshen up and go out again. Of course you would, it’s only natural - you’re trying to wring every last experience out of your trip and a night out is what completes it. He follows you quietly, all the way downtown, smoking while you almost skip along the streets. Just what has you in such good spirits, he wonders - and he gets his answer when you finally settle in a little pub and he seats himself somewhere close when you’re not looking.

Turns out, it’s your birthday, at least that's what you tell the employee at the counter, a thousand-watt smile on your face that he can hear even through the cigarette smoke and old hard rock. He’s torn between feeling excited and a little sorry for you - you shouldn't be celebrating your birthday alone, you’re too kind for that. Then again, it provides him with ample opportunities; he gets to be the hero of the day if he saves your birthday, he just needs to be smart about it. So he waits. Smokes cigarette after cigarette and thinks about all the things to say to you, gets lost in his own head while you drink yourself through an array of liquors and beers. Poor thing, you won't remember a thing tomorrow morning, the way you're letting the alcohol flow. He isn't the type to use people when they are at their lowest but he can't deny that some lowered inhibitions are only beneficial to him. And really, he isn't planning anything bad. Just a little extra care for you, on your special day.

He knocks on your table once you've gone from beer to shots. It's cute how hard your brain is working because clearly, you recognize him, but it just doesn't know where to place him. Eventually, you do - and beam up at him with so much joy it's almost overwhelming.

Oh! It’s you! From the window!

Adorable, even when you're shitfaced. You're perfect. He sits down without asking but you don't mind, too entrenched in drinking and babbling about your day. You seem so happy to get all of this attention from him, a semi-familiar face in the middle of the night, and he just listens and smiles. You toast him and he tips his cigarette, enjoying the way your knees knock against his. Just one last drink, he can tell, then you're ready. Then you’ll be going with him, uneasy in the legs but happy in mind, then you'll pull him into your hotel room with a giggle and too much force.

And really, he isn't a bad guy, he knows that - but he can’t help himself when he’s already knuckle-deep in you, cooing while you drunkenly whimper around his fingers. It’s so, so sweet. You’re so, so sweet. Can’t enjoy this for long, he thinks and nips at your ear, as you struggle to cum because you simply had too much alcohol. It's a little birthday present to you, a little treat for him. And maybe he should think about moving, too. Or fuck you so good tomorrow that you'll never want to leave again.

He'll figure something out.

[invisiblequeen]

For @wolkentage 's BC: May I Introduce...Iva Shadeblend?

Age: Young Adult

Pronouns: She/Her

Orientation: Heterosexual

Occupation: Motorcycle Racer

Hometown: Oasis Springs

Aspiration: Leader Of The Pack

Traits: Street Smart, Loner, Active

Likes: Fitness, Handiness, BLACK AND YELLOW, Streetwear Fashion, Rocker Fashion, Nature Enthusiasts, Homebody Sims, Alternative Music, Electronica Music

Dislikes: Snowboarding, Cooking, Green, Orange, Preppy Fashion, Polished Fashion, High Energy Sims, Egotistical Sims, Summer Strut Music, Spooky Music

Self-Appointed Theme Song: "Black And Yellow" by Wiz Khalifa

Skills:

Fitness: 5

Handiness: 3

Jealousy Boundaries: Only jealous if partner engages in woohoo with other sims.

Iva knows that her resting "😒" face is a turn off for people. That and the ultra vandalized motorcycle she rides around town. If you got to know her....you'd probably be disappointed. She doesn't tell a lot of jokes, and the ones she tells are...niche to say the least. She doesn't like comments about her "messy" hair or her "Loud" color choices for her outfits, both things she's heard growing up. The desire to socialize on a grand scale was stomped out of her early in her life, so she also doesn't speak up much in big groups. She has a boombox on the back of her bike, so if you wanna take a ride with her, you'll be listening to what SHE likes. On all accounts, she seems inapproachable.

But look closer. She is the first one to help a stranger who trips or drops something. In the street. She is the first one to snatch away a girl's drink and warn her something is in it, because she is always, ALWAYS watching. She is the first one to take a taser to drunken stragglers trying to harass the other spectators at the race. And she is the first one to pull over and offer up her services if your vehicle breaks down in the rain.

She cares. She loves. And she does it with a blank face.

WHAT DO WE THINK?

[emberfrostlovesloki]

Criminal Minds July  Prompt List - Summer Vacation

All photo credits at the end

Good evening loves! We made it to June and Happy Pride Month! Here are some more Summer Prompts for July. This prompt list is inspired by the always amazing, @imagining-in-the-margins, who always make the best prompt lists. Her current prompt list can be found here (linked). I won’t write for all of my prompts, but I might for a few. I decided to go with a theme for these July Promts and it is Summer Vacation, and there are a few in here that I am very excited about.

The rules for using these prompts are that there are no rules! You could use any Criminal Minds characters, OCs, reader inserts, etc. You could draw, write, make mood boards, or imagine anything else. I have included 31 prompts for each day of the month. I also get inspiration from plain old words, so I’ve included 10 Summer words that might inspire something. Lastly, I’ve included a few dialog and art prompts too. If any of these prompts inspire you to create, I’d love to be tagged to see what you have made. This is all just for fun. I wish everyone a great start to the month. Please know I’m proud of you wherever you are right now - Love Levi ❤️

You can find all the prompts below the cut

General Prompts

Characters A and B plan their first summer vacation together as a couple. 

Character A accidentally picks up Character B’s matching suitcase at the airport. What they find inside is a surprise. 

At a wedding on the beach, a fem presenting member of the BAU catches the bride’s flower bouquet and makes eye contact with Character B. 

At a wedding on the beach, a masc presenting member of the BAU catches the bride's garter and makes eye contact with Character B. 

A swimming suit mishap at the pool leaves Character A in an awkward position until Character B comes to the rescue. 

Spin the bottle with any members of the BAU when they might have had a bit too much to drink. 

After an incident last year with fireworks on the 4th of July, the BAU received an in-service on fireworks safety from the department. 

Character A finds a piece of jewelry they really like at a market but doesn’t want to spend the money on it, so Character B buys it for them as a surprise. 

Explain what Emily’s ‘Sin To Win’ story is. 

Character A finds out that they need to wear glasses and feels insecure about it, but Character B lets them know that they are as beautiful as they have ever been. 

Spring Break with the BAU. 

A member(s) of the BAU must go undercover at a summer frat party. 

While on a road trip, Character A looks over at a sleeping Character B and realizes they are in love with them. 

Character A learns how to surf, Character B is their instructor. 

For Character A’s milestone birthday, the team goes skydiving. 

Character A has a secret hobby/talent that Character B discovers and supports. 

Character A eats a popsicle in a ‘certain way’ in front of Character B to make them flustered. 

Jack catches his teacher with an ‘adult drink’ at dinner and asks Aaron if they can have that?  

Characters A and B decide to spend some money and have a staycation at home. 

When Character A gets misgendered at a water park, Character B is quick to step up and support them. 

Character A learns how to rollerskate during the summer and Character B can’t stop taking pictures and videos of them. 

Character A gets kidnapped by an Unsub on their vacation and the team comes to save them. 

Character A sees Character B without their shirt for the first time because it’s just so hot. 

Character A and B make icecream with a BAU kid. 

BAU water balloon fight. 

Crossover BAU and NCIS case. 

Only one bed troop with Charater A and B. 

Character A loses something special and Character B tries to find them something else. 

Character A and B are having a rocky patch in their relationship, so they take a week apart and realize just how much they need each other. 

Characters A and B announce a pregnancy to the team. 

A BAU kids first dance where Characters A and B get over involved. 

Word Prompts

Heatwave

Drunk

Chapstick 

Cherries 

Sleep 

Files

Snow Cone

Lake 

Alone 

Risque 

Dialog Prompts 

“What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas” 

“Alright, who put on “Last Friday Night’ by Kary Perry?” 

“No, no, no __________, no more adult juice, let’s get you some water instead.” 

“... Thanks for the offer, but I don’t drink. Could you get me a _________ instead?” 

“Hey kiddo, it’s time to get up. Remember we’re going to Disneyland today.” 

“Well, sorry to tell you you’re tires not going to take you any farther. Would you like me to put on your spare for you?” 

Art Prompts

Any BAU character with a silly sunburn. 

Any BAU member in funny sunglasses. 

Any CM character at the beach. 

Any CM kid on their last day of school.

Text Break Banner by @cafekitsune

Taglist: (🩷) @tgskitten @geminitapestry @silk-spun @alicewonderao3

Want to be added to my tag list? Please check out this post (linked) 

Want to send in a request? Please check out this post, CM Request Post (linked)

Photo credits

Top: Left (@whoisspence) Center (@honeyrosepetals) Right (@flowersforfrancis)

Middle: Left (@cocaineheartz) Center (@littlecarmine) Right (@earlydawnings-blog)

Bottom: Left (@earlydawnings-blog) Center (@autumncottageattic) Right (@emilyinsuits)

[fentyjjk]

pairing namjoon x fem reader x jungkook

synopsis in an attempt to finally ask your fuck buddy to be your boyfriend, you take him camping, your plans are soiled when he brings along his friend, jungkook.

warnings y/n is the bigggggggest simp for namjoon, accidental blow jobs, outdoor sex, plot twist (no spoilers!), pwp if you squint, drinking, black oc headcanon, somnophilia, overuse of italicization, JOONS MF ARMS, jungkook with rings <3, prior context so we not confused joon did what y/n is doing now before (ofc in a different setting) so this is an unspoken boundary that they have explored prior (it’ll make sense when you read it !)

read me outdoor sex, that’s it.

In theory this was a good idea, sacrificing your comfort for the devastatingly beautiful Kim Namjoon who showed a hint of interest in you was worth it.

With one minor hiccup.

Namjoon had invited others, his friends, to what was supposed to be your third date. Namjoon liked nature, he was one of those people that loved the beauty of the outdoors and its grounding qualities, so you had the perfect plan: camping! You were raised in the fast paced city of Seoul, never stepping foot in the countryside, but for him, Namjoon, you planned an entire weekend trip to a camping resort you’d heard about from a friend of a friend. It would have been the perfect place to ask him to be your boyfriend…if he hadn’t invited his friends.

You try your best to keep your facial expression in check despite the utter disappointment you feel that they’ll be joining you, it’s hard, but you manage a smile. Namjoon introduces you to only two other people; Jungkook who's a year younger than you guys and only recently transferred to SU and Stacey. In any other circumstance you’d be happy to meet the people closest to Namjoon, Jungkook seems nice enough and Stacey is a foreigner, she's not black like you, but you could probably relate to each other in terms of experiences in Korea.

And yet you can’t see the joy in them being here.

You take the opportunity to softly break the news to Namjoon and question as to why they’re there when they begin to lug their equipment to your reserved camping lot. You stand beside Namjoon who is busy unpacking the trunk, looking back to make sure they’re out of ear range before you bring it up.

“So… you brought your friends?” Namjoon hums, carefully placing both of your tent wraps on the leaf filled ground. The weather is perfect for camping. Winter had winded down a little over a month ago and the warm temperature and beauty of spring was great for camping.

…And out door fucking if Namjoon was down for that.

You twist your lips to the side, “I wish you would’ve told me, I would’ve brought my friends as well.” You lie, it’s better to lie than be embarrassed that he didn’t know this was a date… right?

“You still can! Just call them, the park's last minute reservations close in an hour,” Namjoon informs you, swinging both your backpacks onto his ridiculously buff arms courtesy of his military service. “I didn’t know you wanted to bring your friends that bad,” Namjoon gives you a look of uncertainty, “I thought this was a double date.” No you didn’t want to bring your friends, that was a lie what does he think y—wait.

Come again?

Namjoon chuckles when you pause in your tracks, your lips parting in surprise, “Well.. don’t look so shocked,” he teases that dimple you love oh so much making an appearance on his cheek. “I'm not that clueless, Y/n.” You shake yourself out of your initial shock swallowing.

“I just—oh my god, Joon, I was so upset!” You exasperate, lightly hitting his arm.

“I know I could tell, you’re so easy to read.” He chuckles again continuing your walk after nudging your arm, “I’m sorry for not asking beforehand, Kook just met Stacey and wanted to take her out somewhere inexpensive. You know college is expensive as hell and all that stuff,” Oh you understand, “plus this place is notorious for wildlife sightings. It's better to have a group to push down and make a run for it than just us you know?” You gawk at him and he laughs lightly nudging your arm again, “kidding! I’m kidding.”

By the time you two reach the patch of land designated for your camping—or glamping as you like to call it despite Namjoon correcting you—Jungkook is halfway done setting up his tent, the little plot of land next to him is cleared out the words ‘TENT PLACEMENT #2’ written out in the dirt with white spray paint on the left. Ah, so direct.

Stacey takes it upon herself to get to know you a little better informing you that she’s not just white, but half Asian and she’s been living in Korea for quite some time, you nod along to what she says barely giving any responses as your eyes focus on Namjoon’s hands and arms while he sets up your tent with ease, he didn’t even ask for help…

So ridiculously hot.

Jungkook prepares the small dining area behind you guys, setting up small lanterns around the makeshift kitchen he’s made, he briefly explains to all of you to turn them on when its dark as they’ll kill any bugs that venture into your lot.

And Namjoon had the audacity to say it wasn’t glamping.

Night came fairly quickly, the mountains in the far distance shrouded in darkness standing tall and intimidating from your spot by the fire. Despite it being Spring the nights lingered with Seoul’s winter breeze and of course you needed to fit the camping experience and set up a fire—well Jungkook and Namjoon did all the heavy lifting collecting the wooded pieces and assorting them to perfection.

And if you thought Namjoon was hot before nothing compared to watching him easily handle five logs onto his shoulders and set them down without as much as a groan.

His arms will be the death of you.

Jungkook, Namjoon’s friend, noticed you shivering and offered you a blanket while Namjoon added the finishing touches to the fire you took the heavy material with a smile missing the distasteful look Stacey sent you.

“How long have you and Joon been together?” She asks as you wrap yourself in the thick wool blanket.

You look back at Namjoon to make sure he’s engrossed in helping Jungkook cook the food before you lean towards her whispering, “We’re not together yet! I’m going to ask him to be my boyfriend later on, probably tomorrow to be honest.” She licks her lips humming.

“You must really like him, huh?” Your brows furrow at the tone she takes on, but nod nonetheless because of your course you like Joon you wouldn’t be caught dead sleeping in the woods if you didn’t. “Just be careful alright? I’ve heard some things about him in relationships, just watch out.” You would ask her what she’s heard but you hear a very clear and loud: ‘Dinner!’ Ending your conversation.

By the campfire you enjoyed surprisingly good sandwiches and half watered down beers Stacey’s prior warning fading into the back of your mind the more beers you downed. Jungkook took it upon himself to indulge you in all the hilarious mishaps of their childhood together while Namjoon blushed furiously (cutely) Stacey seemed to only get more touchy and flirtatious as she drank more beers leading Jungkook to take her to the tent so she can sleep off whatever lingering horniness she was feeling.

When he returns Namjoon offers him another beer but he refuses, “I need to be able to drive into town in the morning, I forgot my sunscreen.” You perk up reaching into your bag.

“Here you can use some of mine…it is scented though if you have a problem with that—“

He’s quick to cut you off shaking his head, “No, no, thank you.” You hand him the small bottle catching sight of the rings lining his fingers.

“Those are sick,” You compliment him, he looks down at his hand smiling proudly, he wiggles his fingers.

He shows you his other hand which is also covered in slightly less rings than the other, “Thanks, I got them from a friend's shop, she has some on sale right now, you want the info?” He asks followed by a small yawn.

“Sure in the morning though, you look ready to pass out.” Jungkook stifles a chuckle.

“Stacey is not easy to put to sleep while she’s drunk.” Namjoon laughs at that.

“Oh yeah we know.” Your face grows hot as you recall her very loud ’no I don’t want to go to sleep, why won’t you fuck me?’ ‘Kooooookie, I’m horny.’ oh and who could forget: ’just the tip? Please pleaseee?’ If that’s what she’s like drunk you can’t imagine what she was like sober and horny. You don’t blame her though you were a few beers deep and desperate to get back to your tent, but first to spare you and Namjoon the embarrassment of having his childhood friend hear you two go at it, you want him to get well into a deep sleep before that happens.

“Alright I’ll catch you guys in the morning.” You say your goodbyes to Jungkook watching him disappear into his tent enclosure.

Huh, they look kinda similar in the dark, you think looking between your tents.

“You ready to turn it in?” Namjoon questions, as the fire begins to die down.

“In a minute I’ll be in, wait up for me?” He hums kissing your cheek before he leaves your little fire set up for your shared tent. Once the zipper comes down you take a minute to take it all in, you actually find yourself enjoying the outdoors; it differs from Seoul, quiet, but loud in its own naturistic way. You also used the time to adjust yourself making sure your bra looks good under your shirt and spray a tiny bit more perfume on yourself.

You ventured out to the small bathroom station that was a short walk from your campsite filling a bottle with water to completely put out the fire. The door creaked open giving you half a heart attack before you fully got a good look at the figure looming in the doorway, Stacey.

“Jesus Christ you scared the shit out of me.” You sighed, rubbing your chest to calm your rapid heart beat.

“Sorry gotta take a piss, and maybe vomit.” She choked holding her mouth, you capped your bottle of water leaving Stacey alone in the bathroom. On your way back to your campsite you wondered if you should have helped her back to the tents, but reckon that if she could get there while shitfaced she can make it back.

After putting out the fire you pushed your boobs up over your shirt exposing an unnecessary amount of cleavage, checking your appearance on your phone to make sure your attempt at seduction wasn’t too obvious. You close out of your camera app smiling at the drying wood, you were more than ready to enjoy a semi private hook up with Joon and then a good night's rest with lots and lots of cuddling.

With a small dilemma.

Earlier when you thought the two tents looked similar you weren’t kidding and right now they look almost identical. If you were slightly more buzzed you would have gone for the left tent, but that’s Jungkook and Stacey’s and yours is on the right. You slowly unzip the tent hearing Namjoon’s light breaths, you always thought he'd be a snorer because of his large build, but no, only light comforting breaths.

Crawling, you hit your head on the lamp hanging from the tent ceiling, but you don’t turn it on wanting it to be dark. You don’t want to wake up Namjoon.

What guy doesn’t like being woken up with a blowjob? Plus you owe him for waking you up in a similar fashion a few weeks back.

You briefly turn around to zip up the tent, the darkness fully encompassing your surroundings, you barely see Namjoon’s face and squinting doesn’t help, but nevermind that you need to get to work. Slowly, you lift the cover, the same one from earlier that Jungkook gave you. He must’ve offered it to Namjoon, you make a mental note to thank him in the morning since it is quite cold.

Once fully settled underneath the blanket you feel up his legs, he switched his shorts for sweats and unfortunately for you when you reach upwards your fingers brush over a tied knot, “Son of a bitch,” you mumble, why’d he tie them? Gently you sit back on his calves, still under the cover of the blanket you delicately unravel it pausing when you feel him shift, but he doesn’t move much, your ass is on his leg’s keeping him in place. When you deem him unaware (when you get impatient) you get back into position leaning forward your ass high in the air, you only lower his sweats enough to free his cock, huh no boxers. Namjoon’s never gone commando before to your knowledge. After every hookup he at least fell asleep in boxers, but maybe he was too tipsy to remember to put some on, you brush it off for now licking your hand, it’ll make things easier.

He’s soft when you take him into your slick hand twitching when you grip him properly, still asleep though. Your stomach coils with heat and want when you hear a low confused groan and then another when you open wide stretching your mouth around his length. You go slow at first, you have to, maybe it’s because you're buzzed but he feels thicker.

“Wha…” You bob your head faster as he begins to fully wake up, “fuck,” he rasps egging you on, leaning down you take more of him into your mouth and partially down your throat, his groans grow louder in volume breaking off into lower throaty moans, his hand reaches under the blanket fisting your curls, something hard akin to metal scrapes your head, but the pain meshed with the heat growing in your stomach makes you moan, which makes him moan. “God, fuck, fuck,” He guides your head up and down the grip on your hair tightening when you trail your tongue over a vein running under his cock. You shift on your knees rubbing your thighs together to alleviate some of the pressure between them because this is turning you on way more than it should.

“Fuck, Stace, I’m gonna come.” Everything freezes, or maybe you just freeze up because he—Jungkook is breathlessly asking, “Shit, baby why’d you stop?” You remove your hand first, your mind blank, but it’s not it’s loud, so fucking loud because this can not be happening. You sit up slowly, the taste of him weighing heavy on your tongue, the blanket falls with your movement, the darkness giving you a momentary shield, but it doesn't last.

“I-I didn’t know,” You choke out your eyes teary, in the darkness you can make out Jungkook sitting up and reaching forward clicking on that God-awful light. He squints when the light floods his eyesight, but when it registers, what just happened and who you are his eyes double in size looking you over once, twice just to confirm that you, Namjoon’s…girlfriend? Gave him head just now. His panicked expression only makes you ramble more, your tears actually spilling over as you try to explain, defend yourself. “I-it’s so d-dark I couldn’t tell, I-I thought this was our tent! I-I just — I’m drunk, I-I couldn’t t-tell, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” You sob through your explanation as Jungkook pulls the blanket over his crotch to cover his still hard cock. It might have gotten harder because of you crying, but you don’t need to know that information. “I was-wasn’t trying to assault you or anything-oh m-my God I’m an awful p-person—“

Jungkook reaches over to comfort you, but you flinch so instead of touching you his hand hangs awkwardly in the space between you, he puts his hand down sighing, “It’s okay, okay? Breathe.” You take some much need deep breaths, surprised by Jungkook’s calm demeanor especially because of your current situation. He does actually touch you this time rubbing your forearm. “I’m not upset, okay?” You nod wiping your tears, “Joon can never know.” Your eyes meet his, your brows furrowed, you open your mouth to speak, but he beats you to it, “He won’t understand like I do, he’d never be able to see you the same.” The admission puts you back on the brink of hyperventilation, but Jungkook’s gesturing you out of the tent. “Go, I don’t know when Stacey is coming back, I don’t want to fuck things up with her.” God, how could you have forget about her?

“Okay, I-I really am sorry, Jungkook.” Jungkook lets out a heavy breath, nodding.

“I know.” He asserts, glancing back you catch a small reassuring smile on his lips, “Goodnight.” You don’t say it back, quickly leaving the tent.

Jungkook lays back onto the blankets, lightly biting into his forearm as ropes of cum spurts from his twitching cock, smearing his abdomen and the blanket.

Jesus fucking Christ.

read me i feeeeel like i could add more to this but idk what… yk? so for now it’s a one shot ❕ also my cover image wouldn’t come out right so for now there’s no cover

[scrapyardboyfriends]

That spoiler pic of Aaron and Fauxbert in the woods did make me laugh, fauxbert and Aaron are meant to be having an I love you moment but fauxbert is still just 😐. Also the show seems obsessed with recreating Poundland versions of Robron moments, this time the I love you's in the woods! I would have expected by now some sort of joint interview with Oliver and Danny or an interview with at least one of them discussing their relationship but the show are putting zero effort in to selling it.

Wow...they could have at least stuck them on opposite sides or something. Haha.

I just don't understand what they expect us to make of this relationship that barely even exists.

I mean yes, they have shown Aaron unwilling to open up about Robert for that five second Seb plot. But have they really shown us John unwilling to open up about things with Aaron? I mean he told Vic they don't really talk about that kind of stuff or whatever that was supposed to mean. But Vic was the one that found the dog tags, Vic was the one that wanted to know about John's army story. Has Aaron ever even questioned any of that? Does he care?

I'm still baffled as to why they didn't use the army trauma to connect them initially because that just seemed like low hanging fruit. But they didn't. And now it feels weird for him to be bringing it up. Because just like John never asking about Robert until Seb came up and suddenly realizing that hey maybe two married people meant something to each other, Aaron has never once asked about John's military service or even considered any trauma from it. Like if that's his WHOLE sad backstory, then you'd think they'd want there to be some kind of build up to Aaron caring or wanting to know. Instead John's just going to spring it on him in the middle of the woods because....

Also...dear god what bigger gesture? Is he about to propose in the wood where Robert couldn't cause he forgot the ring in the car?

If they're already living together and they're already declaring their deep deep nonexistent love for each other...what the hell else is there? I'm so confused.

Also like...what angst have they really gone through? They've gone through nothing because none of it has meant anything. They had a fake enemies to lovers driven almost entirely by the fact that John arbitrarily drove off with his stuff after they first hooked up. That and Aaron's Robert feelings they never want to deal with. They hid their relationship from family and friends for about half a second and it had absolutely no consequences when people did realize they were still sleeping with each other. Vic didn't care. Mack didn't care. Chas didn't care. Aaron stole some watches for no reason and they didn't really even have conflict about that. They had the random boxing plot so John could save his life and become the big hero everyone approves of and to make Aaron feel bad about pushing him away over Robert and Seb. But that all lasted like two episodes so it doesn't really feel like anything either. They also still haven't done anything with the fact that John tipped off the police. And will they? Who knows.

It also feels like they've gone through lots of trouble to shoot this camping trip nonsense in the woods, with Danny filming longer days or whatever. I assume this is what that was. Is it really all just for a lackluster love confession.

Is the greater gesture, "let me let you in on my secret murder spree, here's Nate, who I've had locked up out here for months, I'll let you kill him"? Haha.

So let's see we have....Marriage proposal, join my serial killer club, let's fight for custody for Seb, let's break Robert out of prison, let's adopt our own kid...what else?

Maybe he'll suggest they get a dog together and then somehow that dog will be Piper and then Aaron will still end up with no dog. Haha

Sigh...this is just going to be so tragic.

[likecastle]

Prompt “oh shit” “ I told you not to touch it!”

Thank you, anon! I forgot my own advice from the first one of these and wrote something (kinda) angsty. No serious warnings for this one--just misunderstandings, and some classic Nancy Wheeler passive aggression.

“Oh, shit!” Robin looks on in horror as the precarious stack of books Nancy had so carefully piled on her study carrel comes toppling down. The noise it makes, Robin is fairly certain, can be heard all across the Boston metropolitan area. Possibly she’s just triggered a sonic boom. Heads whip in their direction, and a great round of sanctimonious shushing rises up like a tidal wave.

“Robin!” Nancy hisses. “I told you not to touch that!”

“Well, they do say a little knowledge is a dangerous thing,” she jokes, trying to cover her chagrin. The look of exasperation on Nancy’s face makes Robin snap her mouth shut and start picking up the fallen books in silence.

Nancy is gathering up heaps of notecards that took the chance to spring free of the plastic box Nancy was storing them in, scattering all the way into the stacks. “Everything’s always a joke with you,” she mutters under her breath.

Robin feels herself flush—kind of impressive, given that she’s already humiliated herself so thoroughly—and dips her head to focus on the books she’s stacking. She’s starting to think coming here was a mistake—not just accompanying Nancy to the library, but coming to visit at all. It’s midterms, after all, and she could have just waited to see Nancy at home over spring break, but her semester ended a few days earlier than Nancy’s, and she’d thought it would be fun to drive back to Hawkins together. Nancy had sounded enthusiastic when Robin pitched the idea of a road trip—at least, Robin had thought she did. But now that Robin’s actually here, it feels like her presence is more of a nuisance than a welcome distraction.

Robin’s been trying to tell herself it’s just exam stress, but it’s getting harder and harder to convince herself that's true. After last night, Robin’s seriously considering just shelling out for a bus ticket back to Hawkins. And now, of course, she’s gone and made things worse.

Once she’s stacked the fallen books back on the desk again—probably not in the right order, but at least they’re not sprawled on the floor—she takes a careful step back and says, “I’m gonna go get a cup of tea from that place we went yesterday. D’you want anything?”

“I’m fine,” Nancy huffs. Then, thinking better of it, “Coffee—”

“—black,” Robin finishes, “I know. Promise you won’t leave before I get back?”

Nancy rolls her eyes, which Robin figures is as much reassurance as she’s going to get.

It doesn’t take her long to make her way out of the library and get in line at the little café around the corner. It’s sort of a relief, actually, to be out in the fresh air, away from the anxious silence of the library and Nancy’s own inexplicable bad mood. If only Robin knew what she’d done wrong—before she caused a massive book avalanche, that is. Nancy’s mood has been sour ever since they left the party last night, and Robin can’t for the life of her figure out why.

She’s trying to decide whether she wants Mystic Mint or Calming Chamomile when someone taps her on the shoulder. She turns to find a fresh-faced girl standing behind her. Robin knows they were introduced at the party last night, but she can’t quite recall the girl's name. Rebecca or Regina or Ramona, something like that.

“Robin, right?” the girl says.

“At your service,” Robin says, and then, for some totally unknown reason, she gives a little dramatic twirl of her hand like a Victorian gentleman doffing his cap. No wonder Nancy's so sick of her.

The girl quirks a bemused, almost pitying smile. “How’s Nancy doing this morning?”

“Annoyed at me, mostly,” Robin says, trying to be sanguine about it. “What can I tell you? I’m just really good at getting on Nancy Wheeler’s nerves. It’s a talent, honestly. I should put it on my resume.”

The girl—Renata? Romilda?—laughs incredulously. “I mean, I’d be pissed, too, if my date spent the whole night talking to someone else.”

Everything around Robin goes silent. All she can hear is the ringing in her ears. “Uh—what?” she croaks.

Roberta-or-Roxanna says is saying something, but Robin isn’t listening. It feels like that single word has replaced the sound of her pulse in her ears—date date date. Is that what last night was? Is that why Nancy was so weird about asking if she wanted to go to the party, assuring Robin over and over that they didn’t have to go if she didn’t want to? Is that why she’d worn her dressy shoes, the black ones that pinch her toes?

Now that she thinks of it, the place they had dinner before-hand was a little nicer than she’d expected it to be. And their table had been kind of secluded in the back, with those fancy candles. Maybe that would explain why Nancy had been so irritated when Robin started toasting her breadstick over the open flame.

She thinks back to how Nancy had introduced her to her friends at the party. She hadn’t said, “This is Robin, my friend from home,” or, “Robin and I went to high school together.” She’d just said, “This is Robin,” and Robin remembers thinking how strange it was that all of Nancy’s friends had glanced at each other like they knew exactly what that meant. She’d thought at the time they must have heard some embarrassing stories about her from their time in Hawkins. Only maybe that hadn’t been it at all.

She realizes, absently, that she’s holding up the line. The barista is staring at her, waiting for her to order, and the other people behind her in line are starting to get impatient, and Roseanna-or-Rowena is looking at her like maybe she’s left the planet.

“I’ve gotta go,” Robin says, to nobody in particular, before peeling out of the line and running out of the café without a second look back.

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

give me 6 emojis for every single fic on ur list for $1200 cal

ILYSM NOVA!!!!!!!!!!!!

Okay here we go. Brand spanking new sentences for ya.

18 for 🌊:

---

“Like reincarnation?” Buck asks. “Didn’t take you for a believer in that sort of thing.”

Eddie chuckles. “I’m not. And, no, not like that. Maybe more like… An alternate reality?”

Buck tenses a little. “An alternate reality?”

“Yep,” Eddie confirms. “You said we, in another life, we live in Los Angeles. We’re best friends. We see each other every day.”

We’re best friends, but I’m secretly in love with you.

And you think I don’t feel the same?

I hope to god that you do.

I think I do.

Buck sits up suddenly and shifts his body to look at Eddie.

---

18 for ⚡:

---

“Eddie,” Margaret says, cool and pleasant, like a plastic plant. They’ve walked up behind him as he’s bent over the cooler, grabbing a beer for himself and one for Buck. “Are you enjoying the evening?”

Eddie closes the cooler lid and straightens up to face her and her husband. His stomach twists with apprehension. It’s actually much easier to be around them when he’s simply fulfilling the role of Buck’s not-so-secret service. 

“I am.” Eddie answers flatly. “Maddie and Chim have done a great job.”

“They have,” Phillip agrees. He’s fiddling with the band of his watch. He’s nervous, Eddie thinks. Approaching Eddie is either not his idea, or deeply off putting. Maybe both. Well, hey. Eddie is glad they find him off putting. 

“We were hoping to catch up with you,” Margaret says.

Catch up. As if they’re old friends.

---

18 for 🌌:

@steadfastsaturnsrings

---

It’s been quite the year for Eddie. He’s done a lot of work. Lots of therapy. Lots of conversations with lots of different people, some good, some bad. A lot of anxiety and self-doubt. And among it, so many soft, quiet moments of reassurance. From Buck, from Chris, from the 118 and everyone else in his life. By the time they planned the trip, Eddie had the staggering sense that he actually deserved it. 

It struck him that he hasn’t, historically, felt that way about much of anything. 

Maybe there’s a lot to be said about allowing yourself to deviate from a destructive path. 

The song playing from Buck’s music library comes to an end, and a few seconds later, Eddie recognizes the beginning few seconds of Steal My Sunshine with an irritated chill.

“No,” Eddie shakes his head. “Absolutely fucking not.”

“Eddie,” Buck complains. “I love this song.”

“It’s ridiculous!”

“That’s never once stopped me from loving you.”

Eddie groans. 

---

18 for 🚨:

---

“Uh, hi,” Eddie replies awkwardly. “My name is Edmundo Diaz. My ex was a client of Jim Egerton’s. I was in contact with your firm a bit after she died last spring. Regarding custody of my son.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry to hear that she passed,” Nadine says, tone sincere. “Which client was this?”

“Shannon Dempsey,” Eddie answers. “And, uh… Thanks. I-I’m calling, though, because Mr. Fletcher did a great job handling Shannon’s will and everything. I was hoping he might be taking on new clients.”

“For your will and estate?” Nadine asks.

“Yeah, exactly. Actually, I almost died last night. And I know this is super last minute, but if you have any time soon, it would mean a lot if I could update what happens to my son in case I’m not so lucky next time.”

“Next time?” 

“I’m a firefighter,” Eddie explains.

---

18 for 🩸:

---

He thinks he’d be safe to go to Hen. He can’t imagine a world where Hen assumes the worst of him without asking questions first. Chim might be scared, but he could come around. And Bobby… Well, Bobby is a practicing Catholic. Eddie knows what his own thoughts, trained by a Catholic upbringing, have whispered in his mind about himself. He’s terrified to risk seeing Bobby and facing judgment. That would break him.

That’s all assuming that it’s Bobby there. Eddie killed Gerrard. So he’s not the captain. But that doesn’t mean they gave it back to Bobby. Fuck. For Buck’s sake - and everyone else’s - he really hopes they did. He can’t imagine how lonely Buck would be with Bobby at a distance from him, too. 

Eddie doesn’t waltz into the station. He’s not that dumb. The station is another home that isn’t quite safe. 

---

18 for 📚:

---

He was friendly with everyone. Well-liked, outside his brother and the cousins his brother was close to. He had people at school to hang out with, and got invited to do things. Parties hosted by other members of the swim team that he always avoided or left early. 

Essentially, since Ravi was social and friendly and did well in school, it flew under the radar. The difficulties. The queasy feeling in his stomach every single day before he left for school, and how tired he was every night when he got home. How the smallest social activity seemed to drain him more than anyone. How he could wipe a mask over his face and adopt a personality more amenable to the people he was interacting with. One that didn’t exactly feel like him. 

If there was any strangeness, people chalked it up to years in the hospital leaving him improperly socialized. If he struggled to read people, it’s just that he was more used to healthcare workers than his own friends. If he was analytical and plain spoken, it’s just that cancer had made him wise beyond his years. 

No one thought anything about it. 

Not until he was halfway through his undergrad in business and getting fantastic grades, but so entirely miserable that, if he didn’t have anything he needed to do, he couldn’t get out of bed. He thought it was just depression or anxiety. He thought he was just weak again. 

“Autism,” a psychiatrist told him instead. 

---

18 for 🦮:

---

“Evan?” Maddie prompts. “Any questions for Sam?”

Well, yes. Lots, if he’s being honest. Mostly, what does it mean for him if he does this? What does his life look like? Does he really deserve this? Are they sure there’s no one who needs her more? 

“I…” Buck trails off. “Sorry, I-I don’t know what to say.”

“It’s okay.” Sam says. “I know it’s overwhelming.”

He takes a heavy breath. His chest feels a bit tight, stomach a bit nauseous. The room is starting to feel unbearably hot.

---

18 for 🔮:

Gonna include a line break sorry to be awkward...

---

He knocks on the door and waits, heart beating loudly enough to feel it in his skull. This shouldn’t be so uncomfortable. This should be safe, like coming home. But sometimes, home is the place you leave so it doesn’t leave you first. 

Bobby opens the door moments later. 

“Hi, Buck,” he smiles. “Thanks for coming.”

“Thanks for inviting me.”

“Well,” Bobby exhales. “Come on in.”

🔮🔮🔮

“So how are things really?” Bobby asks when they sit down to dinner. It’s just the two of them. Athena is working this evening. 

Bobby remembers another tense dinner. Not long after the tsunami, when Bobby was quietly blocking Buck from returning. They’ve both grown so much since then, Bobby thinks.

[fapper]

week 2: rome + perugia weekend trip

okay so heres my review of my last weekend trip (i was running on 2 hrs of sleep the entire trip that i kept dozing off uncontrollably on the last day. also this trip tired me sooo bad that i will literally not be traveling this week HELPFKHFA)

thus - land in rome late evening

fri - all day in rome

sat - all day in perugia

sun - back to rome late evening

ROME - 10/10 you were soooo good to meeee brooo none of that racist stupid shit like in budapest happened to me here. the people did not bother me at all which is the bare minimum to be respectful but hey. i really appreciated it!

the night i arrived i had pizza and went clubbing alone :'") i was a little scared at first bc id be alone but im so glad i went. it literally introduced me to new artists that i cannot go a day without listening to now. i had a gin lemon which was pretty bad and i wasnt really up for getting drunk so i lowkey wasted money on that but we ball! walked back home at 3AM and nothing happened to me. i felt pretty safe.

i went to a pretty famous restaurant (mimi e coco trast) and the service was so good. they gave me a lollipop after :"))) i loved it. i had pasta and pizza the entire time and my stomach started hurting sooo bad (i never eat pasta)

there was sooo much walking involved the soles of my feet were in pain. but i loved it all. so many hot men too nglll those #priests could get it... FHJSKHJK JOKINGG... yeah

PERUGIA - 5/10 literally only went just to see yuki ishikawa and it was lowkey HIGHKEY NOT WORTH IT! yuki ishikawa doesnt even look that much into the crowd, its like hes hyperfocused on the game and only that. thats why hes pushing 30 and still single fr he genuinely does NOT gaf about the crowd 😭 itwas lowkey embarrassing 4 me to wait after the game to try to take a pic w him but i couldnt. there were too many asian girls all glammed up to see him too... 💀 #embarrassing like he clearly dgaf

ALSO i was the only asian person there so i was uncomfortable asf but we ball. never going back tho

IN GENERALLLL i loved this trip even tho i was SOOOO DEATHLY TIRED and there were moments where i would just be walking on the streets alone at 1am - 3am and somebody couldve easily killed me but that didnt happen so. Amazing we loved it i will be returning to italy for spring break tho YALL BE READYYYYY