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uluvjay · 4 months ago

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So long, London- L. Norris

Lando Norris x fem! Reader

In which you have to say goodbye

Warnings?; angst, toxic relationship, lying, cursing, lando being a bit of an asshole, crying, one sided love, feeling unwanted and lonely, this is kinda old and hardly proof read so i apologize for any errors!

Pulled him in tighter each time he was drifting away

You could tell when things when first got rocky, the way he went from being connected to your hip at all times to being as far away from you as possible.

The way his once lingering touch would now drop the second there were no longer cameras or people to keep an act up for.

How he couldn’t be bothered to give you more then a pathetic forehead kiss and small side hug when he would once kiss you breathless and hold you so tight you almost couldn’t breathe.

But you always did your best to pull him back in, sitting down and having talk after talk about how you were feeling and telling him that if he wanted to leave then he needed to instead of stringing you along.

The conversations always ended the same, him with soft tears in his eyes while you were sobbing, him telling you he’d change and do better and that you were were all he wanted.

And he’d make the changes he promised to, dates as often as possible, nights once against spent together, his eyes never straying from you.

But that only lasted so long before he was back to his old ways.

My spine split from carrying us up the hill

Eventually overtime the constant chasing and fighting had began to take its toll on you, and everyone had began to notice.

“Y/n Darling are you doing okay? You look exhausted.” Adam spoke from his spot next to you.

You smiled politely at your boyfriend’s dad, “yeah just haven’t been sleeping the best.” You shrugged the lie spilling effortlessly from your mouth.

You could tell that the older man didn’t believe you but instead of prying he just nodded and pulled you into a tight hug.

You hadn’t realized just how bad you needed that hug until you were silently crying in the man’s arms, body shaking as all of your built up emotions came spilling out.

Adam turned you two, his back facing the entrance of the garage incase any cameras decided to pan inside, not wanting them to catch you in this state.

“You know you can speak to me about anything right? Even if it’s my son, you’re apart of this family too.”

You wanted to laugh at the man’s words, in what world would you be able to open up to the man about the fact that you were almost certain his son didn’t love you anymore but both of you were refusing to let go.

“I know, thank you.” You spoke softly.

I didn’t opt in to be your odd man out

You only realized how bad things had gotten when you got a text from Max asking why you weren’t at dinner.

What dinner? I didn’t even know you were in town

When the Brit left you on read you understood that even he had began to connect the dots and that his best friend had been lying to the both of you.

He had told you he was going to a business dinner while he sat across from his best friend and told him that you couldn’t make it to dinner because you already had plans made prior.

Max was pissed to say the least but he wasn’t one to cause a scene and decided it would be best to bring it up with lando tomorrow when they went to play paddle.

“How was dinner with Max and P?” You questioned as he stepped in the living room.

“What’re you talking about? It was a bus-“

“Don’t even try it Lando, max texted asking where I was.” You scoffed before standing on your feet and heading down the hall towards your room.

“Fuck.” He groaned quickly following after you.

“Baby please, I’m sorry I lied-“ he tried but was quickly shut up by the bedroom door slamming in his face and the lock clicking.

“Sleep in the guest room, we’ll talk tomorrow.” You spoke and he could hear the sadness in your tone.

My friends said it isn’t right to be scared

“I just don’t know what more I can do, I try so hard and things just aren’t changing. I feel unwanted and uncomfortable in my own house, I’m anxious to even go home sometimes because I don’t know what the night will hold.” You ranted to Kika and Pierre as you laid on the lush carpet of their living room floor.

“Darling it isn’t right to be scared, you shouldn’t have to have these worries, this isn’t love.” The model cooed as she took a seat next to you and held your hand tightly.

“I know, but I look at him and for some reason I still picture a future and see the man I want to start a family with..I just don’t think he sees that with me anymore.” You shrugged sadly.

“Oh honey.” Kika whispered before laying beside you and throwing and arm over you, holding you tightly.

“I don’t know what to do.” You whispered to no one in particular but Pierre caught it.

“It’s not what you want to hear but as one of your closest friends I’m going to tell you the truth, it’s time to leave Y/n.” The boy began, also moving to sit on the carpet on your other side.

“You’re doing nothing but hurting yourself and we can all see how hard this has been on you, you’re not yourself.” He continued.

“Where am i supposed to go? I gave up everything back home to move with him, he’s been in my life since we were little kids, he’s all I’ve ever known.” You croaked, a small tearing escaping.

The couple shared a look, hating how their once bubbly and out going friend had became someone they didn’t recognize, a girl so broken and hurt.

“You can stay here until you figure something out, we have the room and with Pierre being gone for races and me working there’s hardly anyone ever here.” Kika spoke up.

“No-I couldn’t do that, I don’t want to intrude.” You shook your head.

“You’re not intruding, we’re asking you to stay, we don’t want you living like this anymore.” Pierre spoke up.

You took a moment to think about it, were you really going to pull the plug and leave? After spending all of your youth with Lando and giving him all you ever had?

“Okay.” You nodded.

Just how low did you think I’d go ‘fore I self-implode? ‘Fore I’d have to go be free?

A few weeks later while the boys were gone for a double header you and Kika packed everything you owned, boxes and boxes stacked into the back of the large car you’d rented.

You cried in the girls arms as you looked around the place you had called home for the past few years, hearing aching in your chest as it processed that this was it, it was over now.

You’d written a note, placed it on the kitchen counter next to the necklace you wore with his name on it and your key to the apartment along with the keys to the car he’d gotten you for your birthday.

You two hadn’t spoken in days so having to keep him from getting suspicious wasn’t hard, he’d have no clue that he’d return from a different country to find you and your belongings gone.

And that’s exactly what happened, the boy sighed as he slid his key in the lock, his body aching and exhausted from the back to back races and constant time changes.

“Baby?” He called stepping into the dark apartment, it wasn’t like you to be out at nine pm but he shrugged it off and pushed up the light switch that was next to the door.

However his stomach dropped as the apartment lit up, all of your shoes that had been on the shoe rack were gone, your favorite blanket that had always been on the back of the couch gone as well.

He dropped his bookbag before darting towards the shared bedroom, his heart racing as he found your vanity that once sat in the corner of the room gone, your side of the bed perfectly made as if someone had slept there in days.

Reality crashed down on him when he walked into the closet to find all of your things gone, your key to the safe sitting on top of one of the shelves and the boy couldn’t help but to open it up only to find that all of the expensive pieces he bought you were sat contently inside, your custom Richard Mille still right next to all of his.

Getting back on his feet he raced back into the entryway for his phone, however the sight of something on the kitchen counter caught his attention.

He felt tears prick his eyes at the sight of your necklace laying beside a folded up paper, the necklace he got you at seventeen, the necklace that you hadn’t taken off since the day he put it on you.

“She’s gone.” He whispered to himself, picking up the note and reading what you had to say, full on sobs escaping the boy by the time he had made it to the end.

And I’m just getting color back into my face

It was almost a year before he saw you again, he watched as you walked into Pierre’s birthday Party on Kika’s arm.

Your skin was glowing and the laugh flowing from your mouth was genuine as well as the smile that tugged on your lips.

He felt his stomach twist as he realized how good you were doing, how good and happy you looked, without him.

You wouldn’t admit it but your eyes had found him as soon as you walked into the venue, however you didn’t let him see the way that your heart hurt by just the simple sight of him.

However your best friend caught it and was quickly spewing out apologies, “I’m sorry, I told Pierre it was a bad idea bu-“

“Kika it’s okay, I know their friends as well, I’m not mad.” You laughed at the girl’s rambling.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m positive.” You smiled, “now let’s go get drinks and hit the dance floor.” You smirked dragging her towards the loaded bar.

You two ended up spending a good bit of time on the dance floor, dancing until your feet were aching and you decided it was time for a short break and some fresh air.

“I’m gonna get some air, I’ll be right back.” You spoke into your friends ear.

“Okay.” She smiled before spinning from your body into her boyfriend’s opened arms.

You smiled at the pair before making your way off the dance floor and to the small balcony on the floor above, allowing yourself to be cooled off by the soft breeze of the evening air.

You were so caught up in your relaxation that you missed the sound of the door opening and shutting or the presence of the British driver behind you until he spoke up.

“You left me.”

You jumped at the sound of his voice, the voice you hadn’t heard in nine months.

“It was for the best.”

“What just leaving? Not giving me any explanation or warning? You pretty much abandoned ship and left me hanging.” He scoffed.

“I abandoned the ship?” You scoffed, “Lando I fought day in and day out for us, I couldn’t take it anymore.”

“But I loved you!, no actually I still do, you’re all I’ve ever wanted.”

“If you loved me so much then where was the proof? Huh? Because I sat around hoping and praying to the gods above for you to change and for things to get better but they never did.” You cried.

“I was trying okay?! I was doing my best to make things better-I just needed time.” He exclaimed, his hands tugging on his messy curls.

You laughed at his words, turning back to face the skyline of the small city, the wind making the tears on your cheeks feel like ice.

“I explained everything in the note.” You mumbled after a few moments of silence.

“I know I read it..I-i just don’t know why you wouldn’t let me fix things.” He spoke.

“I tried Lando, so many fucking times. I waited and waited for you change and for you to realize how much I love you but you never did so I gave up, I couldn’t keep doing that to myself.”

You kept your eyes trained on the view of the city even as he came to stand beside you, your heart aching for you to lean into him and give it what it so desperately wanted, but you couldn’t.

“Is there ever going to be a chance for us again?” He spoke up.

Your body shook at his words, tears streaming down your face at this point, “I don’t think so Lan, I love you I really do I just don’t think we’re meant to be together anymore.” You whispered turning towards him.

“You’ll find someone one day, and I hope that you never put her through what I went through in the end. You gave me some of the best years of my life but, this is the end for us.” You cried, unconsciously reaching up to wipe the tears off of his tanned cheeks.

Your heart clenched at the way he leaned into your touch, his body yearning for you just as much as yours was for him.

“I’ll always love you.” He cried.

“I’ll always love you too.” You sobbed stroking his cheek one last time before placing a chaste kiss to the corner of his lips before stepping back and heading inside.

Leaving your past behind you and continuing to heal yourself.

So long, London..

#lando norris imagine #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x reader #lando norris #formula one fic #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 x you

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starrywilliams · 6 months ago

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guilty as sin? | abby anderson

“these fatal fantasies giving way to labored breath, taking all of me, we’ve already done it in my head”

warnings: masturbation, slight masochism, ruined orgasm, angst, perv!abby (a little), internalized homophobia (discussed in more detail below)

notes: no surprise my favourite ttpd song is the gayest one on the album, but guilty as sin? screams lesbian guilt i fear!!!! i’ve been writing this for over a month so i hope u guys like it 😭

cw: discussion of lesbian guilt & comphet - these are somewhat based on my own experiences with my sexuality and i absolutely!!! do not think a man can ‘cure’ a lesbian or anything similar to that. nor do i believe anyone should ever feel guilty for being gay. realising i’m a lesbian has been extremely freeing & dykes r the best x

wc: 1.8k

likes, comments + reblogs are greatly appreciated :)

the door slammed harshly behind abby as she stormed into her room. she pulled her jacket off desperately; her skin hot under its tight vice. she’d been in the gym, trying to work out her endless frustration of late, when you’d walked in.

you’d only said “hi" and smiled politely at her before setting your things down. but she felt her stomach churn, a black hole opening inside her. abby stood up, pulling the weights off the barbell and onto their rack. she grunted softly, glancing at you from the corner of her eye.

you’d started stretching, currently bent over as you touched your toes. her eyes drifted for an infinitesimal moment, locking onto the swell of your-. she looked away - wrongwrongwrong.

but then she looked back, her stare feasting on your body. she wondered whether you were doing this on purpose, trying to tempt her from across the room. she wondered if you knew her dirty little secret, abby picturing a smirk on your face as you mocked her for such indecent thoughts.

she didn’t want to feel this way. she didn’t want to feel the poison ivy swarming around her chest, getting tighter, tighter. the rash spread inside her; this invisible whip of lust lashing against her skin whenever your face appeared in her mind. well, had it been just your face maybe she wouldn’t feel like some depraved sinner.

now it wasn’t like abby believed in god, in a world where death and destruction infect every crevice you’d have to be mad to believe that any ‘god’ wanted its followers to suffer so greatly. but something inside her screamed every time she had these thoughts. these impure, twisted thoughts about you.

she didn’t know what made her feel like this. what made her resent you for simply existing; and what made her resent herself.

she recalled her teenage years, when manny had subtly suggested that owen liked her - so she was supposed to like him back, right? and she tried! she loved him even - but there was always that something, that feeling in her gut that told her that something was wrong, something about him that just would never sit right with her.

but all the other girls wanted a boyfriend too, and the jealousy was nice at first - she’d thought. after all, mel was the star student, a doctor in the making, her dad’s favourite; and nora was this freshly trained medical officer, and abby was- abby was just abby.

her dad began noticing her more too - previously too preoccupied with his firefly duties and his favourite student. now his little girl was slipping away from him, he finally began paying her the amount of attention she’d craved for so long.

before, their conversations had often drifted into talk of mel and her new achievements, or his hopes of a vaccine, or some animal he was tracking. never anything about his daughter’s life.

having a boyfriend made her interesting, it gave the other girls something to envy. which was a nice reversal, for a while. then her dad died, and she had become this object of pity. owen helped a bit, she supposed. he tried to distract her and keep her focused on their new role as soldiers, but she barely cared about him anymore. all she wanted was revenge, and with revenge, came you.

you were one of the gyms trainers, passionate about helping the members of the wlf stay fit and healthy! you’d helped her start lifting weights, squealed as she reached every milestone, and had remarked jokingly about just how much you loved her new physique.

it was innocent at first, the most being her brain going a little fuzzy when you’d bit your lip while spotting her; a slight blush when you’d hugged her a little too tight. then, once she and owen were finally broken up, these new pictures began hanging themselves on the walls of her mind. still, innocent, just slightly tainted with desire - the true nature of them still an avoidable matter for her back then.

when she could ignore the truth in her recent behaviour, abby loved spending time with you. after all, you were just really good friends! anyway, she’d had a boyfriend before so everyone knew she was normal, and absolutely not different, and she would never ever have to feel like an outsider.

yet it took a mere three months before she gave up on this foolish lie. she liked you, and as long as nobody ever found out, it wouldn’t matter.

but as her mind grew dark and twisted - joel a constant topic in her head as she obsessed over finally getting to enact revenge - her thoughts got worse in turn. she wanted you - filthily and desperately.

every gym session ended with another cold shower, a desperate plea for her body to stop and let her focus on the task at hand; a hopeless attempt to bury this ache into the ground; an endless endeavour to escape these urges for just one second.

but then she came back changed, every hair on her body endlessly erected with guilt. the way she’d killed him so mercilessly, the way it had done nothing to ease the pain, and the way you had tormented her mind ceaselessly throughout the entire trip.

maybe, had she never met you, she could’ve just killed him and been satisfied. maybe had you never offered to train her personally, she could’ve just stayed comfortable in that stuffy closet. maybe if she found the right man she’d stop feeling this way.

abby deemed such ideas unfathomable now.

owen made her feel nothing. being with him was like an eternal thursday, an endless wait for the week’s end and its pleasure to turn up at her door. every day she’d wait for some spark to arrive, the routine only becoming more and more tedious by the minute. but he helped her get people’s attention, which was enough when she was just abby.

but then she was abby anderson, top scar killer and isaac’s favourite. she got attention on her own, she was praised for her own accomplishments: people worshipped the fucking ground she walked on. but they didn’t know who she really was.

they didn’t know she liked girls the way she was supposed to like boys. she’d seen it in enough of those wlf movie nights - cruel jokes about anyone who even thought about being different. she’d heard the way people gossiped, “did you hear that they’re moving lesbians into the family unit? what a joke.”

they said it like it was something dirty, something egregious, something that she had to hate about herself. so she did.

but as long as she kept it secret, kept it locked away in her mind, maybe she’d be okay. after all, only your actions talk: it was the age old question really, if a tree falls in a forest and no one else hears it, does it make a sound?

abby fell back against her bed sheets, calloused hands pushing her cargos down to her ankles as she replayed the sight of you in her mind. bent over - she felt like you were trying to tempt her on purpose.

she felt like a heathen; staring, fantasizing, worshipping. her mind was bursting with the idea of every possible position she could put you in; head a chorus of every little noise she wanted to hear you make; eyes screwed shut as depravity filled her every sense.

she shoved her bralette up her chest roughly, fingertips dragging over her nipples with little mercy. she pinched them, the peach skin stinging underneath her touch.

she wanted it to hurt; wanted it to feel like some sort of punishment for her thoughts. but as her hips bucked into the air, a long whine dragging from her clenched jaw, she realised it needed to hurt more.

she imagined you, finding her like this. disgust burnt into your features - what the fuck was she doing? repeating your name like some subverted prayer, fingers harshly scratching along her stomach as she tried to make the pleasure feel more like pain, trying to induce some connection between the two.

if it hurt enough, would she stop? force herself to forget? could she torture this part of herself until it surrendered?

her hand slipped over the top of her boxers, a finger running tentatively over her clit through the now darkened fabric. she bit down on her lip, groaning against it as she pushed down harder and harder, attempting to break through the skin.

another finger pressed down, beginning to draw circles down on the throbbing bud. she jolted against her own touch, your head between her legs burning into her mind. your hands, trailing along her flesh - groping at her with little tenderness; tongue, swiping at her pussy with no intent of fulfillment: she wanted you to make her weep, smoke out her lungs with shame, deny her from gratification until all she could feel was regret.

she pulled away, only to cover her fingertips with her spit - diving under her boxers to continue with her corruption. abby let out a strangled sigh, hips grinding against her fingers as they toyed with her clit.

she moved a hand to her hair, knuckles stretching against her scalp as she began to pull her braid. she grunted, yanking even harder. she whispered your name: pained, hopeless.

she sped up her assault against her pussy, feeling that pit in the bottom of her stomach begin to grow. “pleasepleaseplease” her voice cracked as she begged, unsure what she was pleading for.

she wanted to stop, but she needed to try and make this feeling go away. she knew it would come back, it always did - but even five minutes free from your torment on her mind might save her.

her fingers kept going, drawing desperate circles against her weeping pussy relentlessly. the void was growing, almost consuming her entirely at this point. she thought of you laughing at her current state: a crying mess, pussy wet with perversion.

it was sick, really - how the idea of you hating her for this made her need even worse. you’d probably think it appalling: someone who was supposed to be your friend, now sat here burning at the thought of you.

a part of her wished that you shared this sickness. that you too let yourself be overwhelmed by the thought of sin. maybe you didn’t let the guilt swallow you whole - she hoped so.

but there was no point lingering in the what-ifs, they were far too fleeting.

her deft fingers quickened their pace, the ache all consuming. the climb began - a desperate jump towards oblivion. closer, closer. the flames scorched her bedsheets as her breathing hastened.

fuck, she hissed before reaching the apex with a scream of your name. a scream? a whisper? a thought? it didn’t make her actions any less deplorable.

her conscience grabbed pleasure by the throat as she ripped her fingers away, putting out the blaze on her hips like a cigarette crushed on the ground.

the desire imploded within the walls of her torso; scratching against her insides in the vengeance of her denial.

it was wrong; she had to stop it. yet still, the guilt poured into her lungs with no chance of resolve. she was a fool for thinking it would fix her. maybe next time it would work. maybe next time the exorcism would finally purify her.

until next time.

#abby anderson #tlou #the last of us #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson smut #ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #the last of us 2 #ellie tlou #ellie williams smut #abby anderson angst #abby anderson is a lesbian #abby anderson x fem reader #abby anderson fics #abby anderson fic

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websterss · 2 years ago

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COMING BACK (1) — ETHAN LANDRY

REQUEST: I have a really good fic idea! would u mind taking mine? If you have watched the Netflix series “you” then this request might seem familiar. Basically Ethan is about to stab Y/n but she quickly says she is pregnant then you can do whatever you want to.

WARNING(S): angst, mentions of dying, mentions of pregnancy,

WORD COUNT: 1,655

PAIRING: Ethan Landry x fem!Reader

A/N: Hope you enjoy it love! Feedback is always welcomed!

MASTERLIST

PART 2: HAPPY ENDING / SAD ENDING

Fear struck every part of your body as you ran for your life. The old shrine of Ghostface trinkets and souvenirs like knives and wardrobes mocked you as you ran by the mannequins and display cases. You wouldn’t have imagined you’d be right where you were on this unlucky day. What should have been a fresh start after being almost butchered by Amber and Sam’s boyfriend Richie, well you didn’t expect to fight for your life once again, especially while at college.

You wanted a new year, a chance to leave all that was, behind you and move forward with your head held high. You wanted to fall in love…which you had. Now even that was ruined as you ran from the one person you let in. Someone you let love and cherish you in any way possible. Let him put you back together only to break you in pieces all over again. It just didn’t seem fair.

You yell out, panicking as you felt him grab you. You squirmed and wiggled in his grasp, kicking your feet out in the air as he lifted you up slightly then slammed you harshly on the ground. You gasp for air as you grow winded from the impact your back endured. You shake your head as the man you once knew became a stranger to you in mere seconds. You were scared as he stares down at you with a crazed look.

“No!” You scream as you push against his chest. “Ethan no, please!” You rasp out. Tears blind sight you, causing your vision to be blurry.

He smirks lifting a knife above you. “Remember this?” He asks. “My dad got a hold of your file you know. I knew the second I read about you that I wanted to get to know you.” He reached down and brushed some stray hairs away from your hot and sweaty forehead. Your chest rises and falls rapidly. “You were stabbed right here…” He lifts the hem of your shirt, tapping against the scar you received. “With a blade, three times might I add. God the picture they took looked nasty, but boy am I a sucker for recreations.” He chuckles darkly. “What’s three more times huh?” He goes to move the knife closer to your side.

You start to panic again as he moves his right arm to the side, getting ready to drive it past your first layer of skin. You cry holding your hands out, hoping that would be enough to stop him from hurting you physically. You were emotionally damaged by this point. “Ethan stop! Stop, stop! Stop!”

“This is for Richie, for your bitch of friend Sam for killing him! For ruining our lives!” He exclaims harshly at you. You wince, then immediately blurt out the one thing you have been excited to tell him, yet scared to do. Now it just made this whole situation worse.

“Ethan-“ You cry out.

“I should have killed you-“

“I’m pregnant!” You yell out. Your head thumping back against the hard floor. Your hands gravitate towards your stomach holding it protectively. Your face was scrunched with how hard you cried. It hurt, everything just hurt. Ethan's hands freeze in midair. Dumbfounded by your confession. “Stop, stop, stop. I-I’m pregnant!”

“You’re fucking lying!” He accuses you.

“I-I’m not…I’m not I promise!” You shake your head. “Please! Please I’m pregnant!” One hand remains on your stomach while your left hand tiredly falls limp to your side. You relax back onto the floor, waiting for the inevitable to come. Waiting to meet your end at the hands of the man you grew to love with your whole heart.

“Look at me,” Ethan instructs you to do. Your eyes open up slowly. The life drained from them as you stare up at him. The fight in you was gone. You didn’t wanna keep doing this anymore. “No, I–“ He shakes his head. He can’t wrap his head around it. His brows burrow in confusion. “Y-You’re lying!” He tears up.

“I promise you…” Another tear slips down your cheek. “I promise. I wanted to tell you…but everything turned to shit. I didn’t think you’d be one of them…” You sniffle. “It was a little over two weeks before we attended the Halloween party. You took us to your dorm.” You watch his face relax as he remembers. “I-I didn’t get my period at the time of the party when I should have��so I took a test. Three actually. All positive….” You begin to whimper as you look at the knife he’s lost his grip on. “You can go ahead and kill me if that’s what you want, I won’t be mad at you.” You offer a sad smile. “But I would’ve really liked the idea of us raising a kid together. I wanted a future you with you. I still do surprisingly.” You nod sure of yourself. “I-I won’t be mad. I’m at peace with my thoughts of you Ethan.” Ethan watched as your right hand slid down to your side this time. “M-My life rests in your hands now…”

The faint scream of the rest of the party echoed throughout the theater. He lifts his head looks around then drags you up into a sitting position with him.

“I’m gonna hide you.” He says more to himself than you as he helps you to your feet. It doesn’t take him long until he’s dragging you past the display cases. Pushing past the large screen protector sheet. You stumble over your feet trying to keep up with his pace.

“Ethan, what are you doing?” You ask him. Your head falls past your shoulder to glance behind you. You look forward again and collide into his back, you huff then feel yourself being dragged into a dark supply closet.

“Hiding you!” Ethan shuts the door behind you. The two of you are enveloped by darkness. The only light coming from the bottom of the door. Your breath hitches as a shadow moves past the door. You remain still as Ethan slowly reaches out for you. You still have your fingers looking around his own as you shift closer to each other.

You swallow your salvia down nervously as his hands shift up your arms to hold the sides of your face. Your breath shudders feeling him caress your skin slowly with his thumbs. You close your eyes as you lean into his touch. You open them back up, seeing a very faint outline of his face but the room was too dark, and turning on the light would be too risky. You had to rely on your sense of touch for now.

“Stay…” You quietly plead. “Just stay. Don’t go back out there.” You slide your hands up his arms now.

“I can’t…My dad, Quinn, they’ll know somethings up.” Ethan shakes his head even though you can’t see him do so. He leans forward and presses his head against yours. “I need you to stay in here okay? Don’t come out no matter what.”

“No–“ You begin to reject the idea.

“You need to stay.”

“No, you need to stay. Just stay.” You do your best to muffle your cries. “I have this feeling. I just feel it, okay! Once you step out the door, you won’t come back. I need you! Don’t leave me!” You breathe out harshly. “Please…” You whimper as he presses his lips to yours. You instantly move yours against his. Wanting to savor the touch of him, the feel of his skin against your fingertips, the way his hands held you with such care. You wanted it all to last, but when did anything good in your life ever truly last? The harsh reality was that it didn’t. Everything was always too good to be true. “Ethan no…” You pull away, crying out quietly. You wrap your hands around his neck, bringing his head down to touch yours.

“I’ll be back.”

“No, you won’t.” You try to control your heavy breathing.

“I will. You wanna know how I know I will.” You nod an answer. “Cause you given me something to want to stay alive for.” You feel his hands slide over your stomach. “I’m gonna be right back.” He whispers sweetly to you.

“They’re gonna kill you.” You voice your thoughts.

“Not unless I help Sam kill my dad.”

“She’ll still kill you. You stabbed Chad.” You remind him.

“Not anywhere serious. I didn’t hit any arteries or veins. He’s gonna be fine.” He brushed the thought off.

“You– You knew where to stab him?” Your voice goes quiet but sounds incredulous.

“I knew how to make you unconscious at the apartment…S’not important.” He winces, regretting opening his mouth.

“What the fuck Ethan!” You slap him over his shoulder. Your heart weighed down heavily. “God Anika…She didn’t deserve-“ You choke up, cutting yourself off. “What the fuck Ethan.”

“Nothing will fix what I’ve done okay? But I can make things right by saving them. It’s the least I can do now.” He sighs. “Just stay here. Do not come out!” He says firmly.

“If you don’t come back I’m gonna kill you…” Your empty threat makes him chuckle solemnly.

“See you in a bit okay.”

“Ethan.” Your voice trembles.

“I’ll be back. Promise.” He leans in after feeling for your cheek again with his hands and leaves a kiss on your skin sweetly. He slowly opens the door. The faint light entered through, casting a yellow highlight on his face. You catch his warm eyes for a second. He drinks in all the little details and characteristics that make you who you are. That makes him love you wholeheartedly. “I love you.” He offers a sad smile then slips past the open gap. The soft click of the door closing behind him felt like a gunshot to the chest. You just knew. You knew…he wouldn’t be coming back.

#ethan landry #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry imagine #ethan landry imagines #ethan landry oneshot #ethan landry x fem!reader #scream x reader #scream vi #my gif #writings by juls

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macfrog · 1 year ago

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checkmate cowboy like me chapter nine

hi sorry it’s late please don’t hate me 🥲 would just like to note- reader's pasta is gluten free, alright? i have had too many gluten-induced traumas to write about it anymore. she is a gluten free queen. thanks parts 1-8 on my masterlist here, n my ao3 here. love u all the most!!!

pairing: dbf!joel x fem!reader

summary: joel steals you away during a family meal to give you a telling off...in the form of a quickie

warnings: 18+ (minors dni!!!) pining reader, bratty reader, brat tamer joel, spanking, oral (m receiving), face fucking, dom!joel, orgasm denial, theft of underwear, loose mention of someone cheating, alcohol, age gap (reader is 23, joel is 48), cursing, marty robbins

word count: 8.1k

series masterlist | main masterlist | playlist

“Know you can take it, baby, you’ve done it before. That’s my girl.” You whimper in response, mouth full of his cock. “Keep makin’ those pretty noises, whole hotel’s gonna be wonderin’ what’s goin’ on up here.” He allows you a second to pull off of him, gasping for air when your mouth’s free again. “Want ‘em to hear,” you choke out, lips slipping back down his cock.

The water dances to-and-fro, kissing the lip of the pool and splashing onto the concrete at your feet. It’s windier than normal today, trees whispering overhead, breeze taking your hair and lightly tossing it around.

You’re sat out back on a lounger, waiting for Joel to come pick you up. Joel and Sarah, that is. Picking you and your dad up. Be nice if it were just Joel, wouldn’t it? You and him, alone together again. Out on a date, or even just following him around, side by side in his truck as he goes about his day. His hand on your thigh, pretending to roll his eyes at your music choice.

As if that would ever happen. As if that could ever happen.

He and your dad have organized some dinner to celebrate yours and Sarah’s return home; some hotel resort with a restaurant looking out over the river. Your dad couldn’t remember the name of it. Said it was all Joel doing the booking.

You can still fucking hear him. Your dad. His voice lulls through the open kitchen window, the wind carrying it to your ears almost comically. You wish you could bat it away. He’s had the same Marty Robbins song stuck in his head all morning. You’d finally reached breaking point when he’d graduated from just humming it to full-volume singing, even doing his own impression of the guitar.

And now it seems that sneaking out to the backyard hadn’t rid you of the damn song either, no matter how loud the trees may be rustling.

Joel said he’d be here by now – he’s late. You slink off to the back gate to slip out front and wait for him there. And maybe also to escape your dad’s voice. No offense to the guy.

A couple minutes to six, his truck pulls up by the curb you’re perched on. Sarah climbs over the front seat to the back, and you join her.

She scoffs when you slam the door shut. “You’re eager.”

You shake your head in response, warning her with a roll of your eyes not to ask. She gives you an understanding nod and your eyes turn to Joel.

“You’re late.”

He looks back at you in the rearview mirror. “Not my fault. Traffic. We left twenty minutes ago, didn’t we?”

Sarah’s lip curls. She shrugs a little. You know he’s telling the truth.

When you turn back, Joel’s eyes are still on you, expression a little softer. A greeting. Making up for the fact he can’t wrap his arms around you, pinch your nose affectionately, kiss you to say hello. You smile back at him.

“That watch a’ yours runnin’ slow, Miller?”

Your dad’s voice is like a fucking foghorn. Sarah covers her mouth to stop a laugh from escaping her lips. He sweeps down the driveway toward the truck and you lean back in your seat. Quiet moment ruined.

Joel lightly chuckles and then gives you one last hazardous glance in the mirror before pulling off, ignoring your dad’s teasing. Probably for your benefit.

The relief of a quiet journey doesn’t last long, though. Barely five minutes in, your dad picks up the humming again.

“Dude,” you groan, “will you quit that? For the love of God.”

“It’s stuck in my damn head,” he chuckles, arms crossing defensively.

You roll your eyes again. “So your plan is to plague us all with it, too?”

“Pretty much.”

“What’s he singin’?” Sarah asks, leaning forward.

“Marty Robbins. Old song.” The lack of tone in Joel’s voice and the quick shake of his head as he says it tells you he ain’t the biggest Marty Robbins fan either. A voice inside you thanks God, like it even matters what music he’s into.

“Never heard of ‘im.”

“Lucky you,” you breathe, and your dad holds up a finger over his shoulder.

“Heard that,” he says.

“’s why I said it.”

Joel’s shoulders jerk with a laugh. “You’re in a real mood today, aren’t you?”

Your head falls against the window, bumping along with the road as Joel drives.

“Hold up a second,” your dad rounds on him, “you ain’t showin’ your kid real music, are you? She doesn’t even know Marty Robbins.”

“I ain’t puttin’ her through the pain of knowin’ him.”

A smile forms across your lips. Just another thing you two agree on. Another little string connecting you both, separating you from the rest.

You almost snort at yourself. Counting strings.

Sarah interrupts your train of thought when she requests the radio be put on. Joel turns the dial up and she sits back, victorious. You stifle a laugh. But even Taylor Swift doesn’t fully drown out your dad’s voice – she sure doesn’t stop the way he bobs his head as he sings to himself. It’s helpful, all the same.

You and Joel have been quite literally counting down the hours until you’re alone together. Alone for a whole weekend. Each morning, you’ll text him to announce it’s one less day. And he’ll reply some witty comment, some crude joke, or else a thumbs up emoji which usually meant he was working, or had company and couldn’t text. Company meaning eagle-eyed Sarah.

It’s been almost a whole week since the last time you had uninterrupted, unsupervised time with him. When you could link your arms around him, feel his head lean down on top of yours, say things without threat of anyone else hearing.

Seeing him there in the front seat, inches away from you, and not being able to touch him or even talk much to him, feels like a form of torture. Makes you curse your dad ‘n his tone-deaf singing all the more.

You’re supposed to be meeting Sam and Anna and a couple others from work at Frank’s, Saturday night, 8PM sharp. Rodeo night. Your dad’s leaving for Fort Worth in the late afternoon, he said. You’d kinda sulked when he told you, realizing that left a tiny window of time you could see Joel that day.

And then he told you he’d text Joel to ask if he’d be around to pick you up from Frank’s if you needed him, and you chirped up.

“Yeah. Yeah, that’d be really good. Can you ask him to?”

“He said just to text you if you need ‘im, hon.”

“Cool, I will. I mean, I will if I need him. Thanks, Dad.”

If you need him. If. Just on the off-chance, right?

The thought draws a smile across your face. You reckon his presence will be very, very needed this weekend.

Soon enough, the truck pulls in to some ornamented, fountain-guarded resort, bursting with greenery and flowers, paved in pristine sandstone. A red canopy over the entrance, golden letters spelling out Hillcrest.

“Damn…” Sarah leans over into your space to get a glimpse of the building from your window. “This is so fancy.”

“You treatin’ us or somethin’, son?” your dad asks Joel.

He doesn’t reply. But his eyes flit up to meet yours, then back to the road ahead. In a one-second look, you understand.

Sarah’s still staring outside, mouth wide open, blinking eyes taking everything in. “Dad, what the f…”

“Language,” Joel clips.

You smirk. It’s funny, hearing the man who’s whispered far worse things – filthy things – to you in earshot of company, chastise his nineteen-year-old for cursing.

The four of you roll by the water feature – three robed women made of stone pouring water from vases into a pool at their feet – and park up. As you hop out, a woman in a silk dress struts by, floppy sunhat bouncing with each step she takes.

Joel meets you at the back of the truck, letting Sarah and your dad stroll off ahead. They’re busy pointing at different features of the lavish hotel – the purple-uniformed bellboys running in and out of the lobby, the glimmering revolving door, the guests eating on balconies overhead.

“You outta that mood yet?” he asks, and you snap out of your daze.

“Not in a mood,” you reply bluntly, eyes still ahead.

“Huh.” He nods, unconvinced. “Marty Robbins gettin’ to ya that much, is he?”

“Marty Robbins ain’t the problem.”

“No? What is it, then?”

His hand finds the small of your back. It straightens you up like a shot of fire through your spine.

“Not a what. A who.”

You lead him inside.

A man in a pressed white shirt greets you all at the entrance to the restaurant.

“Reservation for Miller,” Joel says, and the man nods curtly and darts off into the sea of tables.

Sarah skips off with your dad on her arm, the two of them fucking ecstatic to be somewhere so fancy and fun. You and Joel amble through, past wine coolers, dodging fleeing waiters, slipping between white-cloth tables and silver spoon diners. His hand never leaves the skin between your shoulder blades, red hot on your goosebumped skin.

You’re seated at a table by the window, overlooking the river. Joel sits opposite you, your dad by his side. Sarah nudges your elbow and holds her phone up, snapping a selfie of you both with the glimmering water in the background. She tags the location and adds text below: fine dining. Her thumbs search for emojis, picking two champagne glasses, some sparkles, and a pink heart. Then she swaps the heart for a smiley face, and tilts the phone to you, wordlessly asking for your approval.

“Cute,” you tell her, and she beams, hittingpost.

The server returns, hands out menus, leaves a jug of ice water and some fancy bottle of wine you’ve never heard of by the table, and then nods his head once again before he rushes off. Your dad salutes him as he goes. You cringe.

“Boy’s gonna take a damn heart attack,” Joel mutters, watching your dad lift the wine from its bucket.

Sarah’s watching, too. She looks from the bottle of wine over to Joel, eyebrows raised. He flatly tells her, “No.”

“Come on,” she protests, “it’s not like anybody here knows what age I am.”

“We know.”

“Dad, I–”

“Water, or nothin’.”

Her eyes dagger into his. “You ain’t exactly a stickler for the rules yourself,” she breathes, sliding the jug across the table, and you scoff.

You’ve seen her do worse on her Instagram stories, and the way she glares at you warns you not to open your mouth. If Joel’s this pressed about some wine with a meal, it’s a damn good thing he doesn’t have a social media account.

“Let’s toast,” your dad announces as he pours wine into three of the glasses, “to…to you girls bein’ back home…” He raises his wine and Sarah lifts her little water, lemon slice floating on top. “…and to a fun summer ahead. Hm?”

You and Joel both hesitate a little before lifting your drinks, clinking them softly against each other with a glint in your eyes.

A fun summer. Sure. You’re certainly having fun. Yeah.

You watch Joel as you take a sip, frowning at the bitter taste. His mouth twists just like yours, neck winces as he swallows. Then he promptly slides his glass along the table back to your dad, clearing his throat and wiping his lips with the back of his hand.

“No?” you ask, amused.

“Not my thing.”

You tilt your head. “Maybe they have Bud at the bar.”

“You’re hilarious, you know that?”

You flash a proud grin at him. The denim of his jeans brushes against your ankles. Your dad takes Sarah up in conversation. No one would see if you just…

Under the long white tablecloth, you nudge open his calves and slot your feet between them. Joel’s boots close at the back of your legs, holding you to him. Holding you against him.

It feels…nice. It’s almost normal. Like something a real couple would do. Not a pair of hopeful idiots wrapped up too tight in some clandestine affair. You almost feel like you could reach for his hand, and you’re willing to bet that if it weren’t for your company, he’d let you take it. Let you part his fingers with yours. Let you run a light touch over his knuckles.

When you finally look up at Joel, he’s looking right back. Watching you. Reading your mind.

You avert your gaze, reaching to pour a glass of water.

A few quiet minutes pass while the table studies the menu. You’re still looking around, taking in your surroundings. The more you look, the more you notice. Velvet drapes framing tall Palladian windows. A man nervously checking his blazer pocket while his girlfriend’s at the bathroom. Joel’s legs give yours a wiggle and you’re drawn away from the pocket square and slicked-back hair.

He smiles affectionately. Asks in his eyes if you’re okay. Your shoulders meet your jaw with the inhale you take, and then you nod. Imperceptible. Some dumb smile across your lips that mirrors his. Like you really are on your own or something. It’s stupid.

“Reckon I’ll have the steak,” your dad says.

Joel hums in agreement, nodding.

Sarah orders a Caesar salad and you decide on the fettuccine Alfredo. The nodding waiter snaps his little black book shut and collects your menus, before disappearing again. Conversation flows across the table naturally: your dad’s big client, Joel’s working week, Sarah’s sophomore year. Of course, the Rangers are mentioned once or twice.

Your wrist is shaking your glass, watching as the water swirls around inside. The thought turns over much the same in your head. A question for Joel. When your food arrives and the chatter lulls, you brave up enough to ask it.

“You think I’m…brighter…here?”

He smiles, a little confused. “Brighter?”

“Aw, kiddo.” Your dad shakes his head, knife tearing into his steak. “I knew you’d take that to heart.”

Joel’s still looking at you. Concerned.

Sarah elbows you. “What’s that mean?”

Your dad sighs. “Bill told ‘er on Sunday she used to be miserable whenever she came home. Said that this time ‘round she looks…”

“…brighter.” You lift your hands to form air quotes around the word, pasta wrapped around the fork between your fingers.

Joel’s expression relaxes, his smile grows. “’cause of anything in particular, or…?”

You instantly regret bringing it up. He’s a dick. Has to ruin every sweet moment with a smug smirk and testosterone-induced impulses, doesn’t he?

You mock smile back and shake your head.

“Y’know what I think it is?” your dad says, and Joel finally turns to him. He nods at you and Sarah. “The pair of ‘em. Back home like old times. How long has it been since the four of us were out doin’ stuff together?”

You and Sarah exchange a sideways glance.

“I’m serious!” he says, waving his hands. Cutlery almost flying out of his grip. “It’s nice. Joel, back me up.”

Joel’s sat back in his chair, midway through cutting his steak, watching this show unfold. He clears his throat and offers, “Yeah. Real nice.”

Your dad looks defeated. He retires from the conversation, focusing on the meal in front of him.

“What are you guys gonna do all weekend without us?” Sarah asks, shoving a forkful of salad in her mouth.

“I, uh…keep forgetting y’all are goin’ away,” you lie, staring down at your pasta.

Joel clears his throat again. “This guy at work was showin’ me these videos of folks playin’ chess – did you know there are these…leagues, for chess? Professional leagues ‘n competitions. They win money, good money, for playin’ chess.”

Sarah, like everybody at the table, is quiet for a few seconds. “Is…is this your way of sayin’ y’all are gonna…play chess?”

You’re staring at Joel, amused and yet a tad embarrassed. The dude you’re sleeping with just went on a ramble about chess.

You twirl your fork in your hand before taking another bite. “I’ve never played chess. Maybe you’ll have to play it alone.”

Joel narrows his eyes. “Don’t think you can,” he says, gritting his teeth, “it’s a two-player game.”

“Nah,” Sarah chimes in. “A guy in my Physiology class plays against himself to practice. He’s pretty good, I think.”

Your head nods toward her, eyebrows raised at Joel. He’s grimacing back.

“He always goes on about speed, says it’s all about playin’ fast so your opponent ain’t got time to think. Quick hands, he says.”

Your brows arch, lips petted. Poor Joel. “Aw. Looks like you’ll be playin’ with yourself.”

His brows angle and you notice a twisted smile on his lips. Pissed – sort of aroused, but pissed. You lift your legs from between his. He holds onto your ankles with his own for a second, forcing you to stare at him, before he frees you. You tuck your legs under your chair.

Just then, Sarah’s phone vibrates on the wooden table.

“Oh, shoot, two seconds. Hello?” She screws her face up. “Are you kidding me? No way. No, I don’t– You– Kels, can I call you back in, like, an hour or something? I’ll call you back, I’m just at dinner with my dad and my…No, I’ll literally be, like– Alright. Lemme call you back. Okay.”

She hangs up and swivels in her seat to you.

“You know Kels? Kelly Ramirez?”

You draw a blank. Push your bottom lip out. “Should I know a Kelly Ramirez?”

“She played soccer with me in high school? Remember, that game you came to,” Sarah leans in, knocking your arm with the back of her hand as if giving your memory a swift kick, “she played in goal to fill in for Stephanie, and broke her ankle tryna save Amber Murphy’s shot? Passed out from the pain?”

Nothing. You shake your head.

She huffs. “Coach Lee had to drive her to the emergency room and it’s all she went on about for weeks.”

“Oh!” The penny drops. “That was her? Didn’t she carve his initials into the girls’ room stalls?”

Your dad and Joel exchange a bewildered and, quite frankly, weary glance. Sarah shuts her eyes and nods, ashamed.

“That’s her.”

“Wow. I wonder if he knew how bad her crush was…” you muse, choking back a laugh when Sarah gives you a dead-eyed stare.

“He would have,” Joel says flatly, and you both shoot him a look. “Girls ain’t good at hidin’ that sorta stuff.”

“Oh, like you’ve ever had anyone have a crush on you.” Sarah bats her hand at him and then her fingers lock around your wrist. “Anyway…”

You can see Joel’s grin from your peripheral. He gives your sneaker a tap with his boot under the table, and you feel your cheeks start to heat. You move your leg.

“…she’s just caught her boyfriend cheatin’.”

“Who has?”

Sarah huffs. “Kelly Ramirez! For cryin’ out loud, are– are you even listenin’ to me?”

“I was caught up in the Coach Lee stuff. Right. No, I’m with you now. Is she okay?”

“She suspected it for weeks. He kept cancelling plans last minute, kept coming up with dumb excuses. We were all tryna tell her, just ask ‘im. Ask him or find out for yourself. So, she did. Checked his phone and found all these messages between him ‘n some girl from college.”

“How’d she hack into his phone?” your dad asks.

Joel, head now resting against his fingers, draws him a look: Really?

“She didn’t,” Sarah tells him. “She knows his passcode. Used it to get in, I guess.”

Your dad nods, taking note, eyes narrowing. He looks over to Joel, then you. These kids and their technology, you imagine him thinking. But he’s staring a fraction too long. You shift in your seat. Give him a comical shrug – Don’t ask me – and he eventually looks away.

The rest of dinner passes smoothly – Sarah picking up her phone, rattling a message into it with her thumbs, and then dropping it back down onto the table. Your dad, battling his steak, asking Joel what he thinks of the Rangers’ chances against the Astros tonight, and Joel…well, Joel not taking his attention off of you for one second.

He’s answering your dad, saying all the right things at the right times, but anytime his eyes lift off of his plate, they land on you. Your arm, draped on the tablecloth. Your hand, moving pasta around your dish with your fork. Your eyes, flitting between the view outside to that inside.

You can see him the entire time. Watching you. You’re not fucking blind. If Sarah didn’t have Kelly Ramirez spamming her phone with cheating boyfriend updates, she’d probably be commenting on it. Did she grow a second head, or somethin’? she’d quip.

But you never look back. Not once. Just let him observe you, let him wait for a glance or a kick of the foot that never comes.

You’re leant back in your chair, arms crossed over your chest, when the waiter clears your table. Watching some couple wander off down the riverside path. She’s wearing a white sundress that dances around her calves with each slow step she takes. He’s in a plain black tee, tan arm around her back. Looking around at the view, taking it all in.

Then she turns on her heel to him. He lifts a hand to move her long, dark braids from her face, drops it to cup her jaw. Pulls her in to him, presses his lips to hers. Her hands are linked at his spine. Like they’re the only two people in the world.

There’s a feeling in the depths of your chest. A throb. Uncomfortable. Maybe even painful. You shift in your seat to move it, but it doesn’t budge. Your gaze falls, travelling along the window frame, onto the white cloth and to Joel’s elbow. Up his arm, across his shoulder.

You reach his jaw and look away. He’s watching everything.

“Alright,” your dad’s hands slap down on his thighs, “we good to go?”

“You go on,” Joel tells him. “I’ll get the bill.”

“Absolutely not, bud,” your dad protests. You and Sarah both lean back in your chairs at the same time. May as well get comfortable, we could be here a while.

“I got it,” Joel says, almost annoyed, getting up to stand. Your dad follows suit. Joel holds a hand out. “I’m sure you’ll repay me somehow. Hey, I got that job in a couple weeks I said I might need you for. Help me out and we’re even.”

Your dad’s hands are on his hips. “I ain’t happy about this, Joel.”

“Stick,” Joel mutters. “I’m sure I’ve done worse that you’ve forgiven me for.”

His eyes finally find yours and your cheeks flush. He covers it by gesturing to you to stand up with a snap of his head.

Why was that hot? Is it…weird…? That that was hot? All he did was nod his head.

You stand – Sarah copies you, sliding her chair under the table. Joel pushes yours in for you. His hand’s on your back again, fingers drawing circles. The four of you are walking toward the exit. Your dad’s still murmuring about owing money.

“Hey,” Sarah calls, pointing, “this place has an outdoor bar. Let’s go check it out.”

Your head’s beginning to dizzy. Why is your head dizzying?

Stick.

The way he pointed, flicked his head toward the door. Knowing you’d just fucking obey him. And you did.

Yep. That was hot. Hot enough that it restarts something in you; something deep down begins to wind. An idea sweeps across your mind.

Sunlight bursts through the French doors up ahead, golden rays flooding in through the glass panes. Joel stoops his head as he wanders through, dodging ivy draped around the doorway. On the other side, drowned in daylight, a paved courtyard.

There are tables and chairs dotted around. Benches in front of flowerbeds. More random statues – a cherub, a rearing horse. Wooden planters with vines growing toward the sky. Another slightly smaller fountain in the middle.

This…is fucking insane. Last night for dinner you ate leftover Chinese food ‘cause your dad was working late. Tonight, you’re strolling through a five-star hotel garden after the best fettucine of your life.

Ahead of you and Joel, your dad nudges Sarah and comically offers her his arm, elbow outstretched. She nods graciously and links her arm in his, and they saunter off, chins up, dumb grins across their faces.

Joel scoffs. Your lips tug a little, chest still tight. Body still tense. And he senses it.

“What?”

You shake your head. “Nothin’. Just…taking in the view.”

“’s nice, ain’t it?”

“Mhm,” you admit. “Word on the street is it was all your idea.”

“Wanted somewhere nice for you. For both of you. Didn’t know it would be this nice, but…it’s what you deserve.”

Your eyelashes flutter, blinking rapidly to conceal the look in your eye. The look that says…something dangerous. You betray the thoughts circling around your head and press your lips together in a tight smile. “Thanks,” is all you can muster the strength to say.

Joel looks forward; your dad and Sarah are strides ahead, still gawking at the garden, chatting, snapping photos.

“It improve your mood any?”

“I already told you, I ain’t in a mood.”

“That why you couldn’t look at me at dinner?”

It stops you in your tracks. You glare at him. Almost about to punch him out of frustration, right before you catch yourself and your expression softens.

“Did you want me to look at you?” you coo, leaning in a little. Your hands rest on his forearms.

Joel tenses. Opens his mouth to say something, then thinks better of it. But you want him to fucking say it. So, you push further.

“What we were doin’ under the table wasn’t enough? Poor baby. Guess you just wanted more of my attention, huh?”

His expression doesn’t change. Lips barely move when he utters, “Thin ice, kid.”

You shrug. “I’m not the one begging you to look at me.”

He swallows. His eyes are staring you down, huge, glowing warm in the evening sunlight. There’s so much energy thrumming around your body that you feel almost faint, like your knees could give. Just swoon, fall into his arms.

“I’m bored,” you back up, turning back to the hotel, “going to the bathroom.”

You’re gone before he can react. Taking off for the doors, stumbling out of the sun and into the cool restaurant, catching your breath when you’re safely in the shade.

You approach the bar – a deep, shiny mahogany, wine glasses hanging from above, glistening footrail at the bottom. Intricately carved, varnished and smooth. Bottles of spirits and ales and wines decorate the back wall, lined up on shelves against a glimmering mirror.

Two girls in black polo shirts stand, elbows leaning against the back shelf.

“I served a duck the other night,” one of them says to the other. She has short brown hair, freckles painted across her nose. A tattoo down her right arm. She twirls a pen between her fingers as she speaks.

“A duck?” The second girl screws her face up.

“Yep. When I gave him the check, he told me to put it on his bill.”

The second girl snorts. “Shut the fuck up.”

“Hey, excuse me?” you call over, and the girl with the tattoo steps forward, still laughing. “Where are the restrooms?”

“Upstairs,” she nods to the doors by your side, “they’re on the right.”

You nod in thanks and she twirls the pen again, resuming position.

The bathroom is freezing cold when you burst into it, almost panting, and stumble across to the sink. Your palms plant firmly on the marble countertop, head falling limp between your shoulders. When you look up to catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, a laugh passes your lips.

You look…flustered. Bothered. You’re not sure if Joel noticed it. You were too busy trying to conceal it to gauge whether he’d caught on.

What the fuck is he doing to you? More importantly, how is he doing it to you? Can you seriously not go a couple days without him? Need, want, desire. Everything he causes, only he can fix.

But then, he never can fucking fix it. There’s always something or someone in the way. And you swear Joel gets off on it – watching you need him, miss him, pine for him, and knowing he won’t be able to relieve it.

Staring at yourself, you start to feel that energy charging up again. Heat pooling between your legs, blood drumming through your veins. What the fuck is he doing to me? Nothing, he’s not doin’ nothing.

Nothing I can’t do right back to him.

You push yourself off of the sink and shoot one last glance in the mirror, giving your reflection an affirming nod before striding over to the door. It swings shut behind you as you pace down the hall, feeling a lot more steel and a lot less sweet.

As you round the corner to head downstairs, a familiar shadow stalks up the last two steps and bursts into the hallway. Without a word, his arm hooks around yours and he drags you back the way you came.

“Joel– What the fuck are you doin’–?”

He passes by the restrooms and onto a plush red carpet. In a blur, he flings open the first door in sight and throws you inside, ignoring your gasps.

He slams the door shut, whipping you around to shove you against it. From over his shoulder, you notice your surroundings. A bed over by the window, pristine white sheets tucked perfectly under the mattress. Nightstands spotless, desk against the wall topped with a tray holding a bottle of wine and a tiny card that reads Welcome to the Hillcrest.

You’re in one of the hotel’s rooms. One of the hotel’s empty rooms.

Of course it’s empty. It’s like he fucking planned it.

“Alright. A hotel room. Did you book it, at least?”

“Naw,” his eyes scan you up and down, “I didn’t fuckin’ book it.”

“So…what are we doing in here?”

Joel’s pressing against you, forcing you up against the wooden door. Caging you against it with the weight of his body. Clearly, in the time you spent giving yourself a pep talk in the bathroom mirror, Joel was doing the exact same downstairs. The fucker.

“Said you were bored. ‘n that’s a real shame, given I just took you to dinner. Ain’t no pleasin’ you, is there?”

Your head rolls back against the door with a laugh. “That really got to you? So, what, now you’re gonna fuck me? Wine, dine, ‘n…yeah?”

Joel’s lips are tight, eyes staring you down. He’s seething. He’s turned on, and he’s seething. Exactly where you want him.

“You get sluttier every fuckin’ day, you know that?”

You nod, teeth taking your bottom lip. “You like it, though, huh?”

Joel doesn’t reply. You lean in closer to him.

“You like me bein’ a little slut,” you whisper, running a hand softly over his hard jeans, “just for you, don’t you?”

His voice lowers in response. “Not when I can’t do nothin’ about it.”

You pull back, cocking an eyebrow. Angle your head. “You’re the one who pulled me in here. It’s an empty hotel room, man. Do whatever the fuck you want.”

He glowers at you. His face rigid, one hand still locked around yours, almost assisting you in palming himself; the other above your head, flat against the door.

His head dips. Jaw lines with yours, breath against your ear.

“Whatever the fuck I want?”

“Mhm.” You nod, maybe a little too eagerly. Not that either of you care. Then you pause. “Oh! Wait.”

Joel lifts his head, narrowing his eyes. Looks like you just cut in front of some spiel he had planned.

Your cheeks swell. “Do you have a bottle?”

“A bottle?”

“Beer bottle. You need me to go grab one? What if they don’t have beer? It’s kind of a fancy place. Would wine work? Or is it only beer that gets you goin’–”

“Alright. Enough. Fuckin’ – brat.”

You cock your head, tongue in your cheek, pushing around the shape of your mouth. Keep going.

You spurt out a laugh. “I’m a brat?”

“Yep. Never do as you’re fuckin’ told.”

You lean in close, lips brushing off of his, so close you can taste him. Feel how tense his jaw is. Your voice is low, barely above a whisper.

“Then…make me.”

Joel’s still staring you down, watching you like a predator watches its prey. His eyes are so dark you can’t read the thoughts behind them, but the way his grip tightens on your wrist, so rough it feels like he’s fucking bruising you, the way he yanks you off of the door, tells you exactly what he’s thinking.

“I ain’t got time for this,” he hisses, pulling you over to the bed.

You stagger behind him, still snickering. Joel sinks down into the mattress, thighs apart, pulling you to stand between them. You look him up and down once, smirking, his hands still roughly gripping yours. Then –

In one fluid movement, you’re over his knee. Thighs digging into your stomach, face hovering over the soft carpet. Your hands grip his calf to hold onto something – anything – as he pulls the hem of your dress up so roughly, you’re sure he’s ripped it.

“You want to act like a brat?” he asks, and you smile, feeling his hand run from the back of your knee up your thigh, coming to rest on your ass. “Get treated like one.”

The first time his huge palm slaps against your skin, your mind blanks. The sharp sting, Joel’s grunt as his hand comes down on you. The way your body jerks, and the whine you let slip as it does. The throb when he lifts his hand, the cold air hissing against your heated skin.

He’s fucking – he’s…He has you in an empty hotel room, door unlocked, entire lobby of people downstairs. Over his knee, skirt hiked to your waist, spanking you. Hard.

And then you realize. You fucking like this.

“Joel…” you moan, catching your breath when it comes back.

Another sharp sting.

“Yeah, baby? You want me to stop? You gonna stop bein’ a little brat?”

Your eyes roll to the back of your head, filthy grin on your lips.

“F-fuck no.”

He slaps you again. You whimper, wrapping your arms around his leg.

“Didn’t fuckin’ think so. Can feel how wet you are for me.”

He curls a finger around the hem of your panties and drags them down your thighs, letting them drop off of your legs and to the floor while his fingers return between your legs, running up and down your slit. You whine.

“Such a pretty little mouth, huh? You were runnin’ it just a second ago. Where’d all your big talk go?”

You open your mouth to reply, barely even make a sound, and his palm smacks against your ass again. He’s not done.

“Always got somethin’ to say, don’t you?” he grunts, hand coming down on you again. “You remember that day I ran you home?”

You whimper in response – yeah, I remember.

“You ‘n me alone, you being a little fucking tease. Wanted to fuck you so badly, baby. Those tight little shorts you were in…fuck…”

“Why…didn’t…you…?” you whine, muffled into the denim of his jeans. “Would’ve…fuck…let you.”

“Yeah? You wanted me to, darlin’?”

“Wanted…you,” slap, “in the kitchen.”

You gasp when Joel’s grip becomes tighter around your waist, holding you still as his hand sears against your ass. Rougher. Harder. It turns you on more.

“Wanted you in my mouth.”

You swear his breath catches. Swear you can feel his hand hovering over you, almost ready to spank you again, but he pauses.

“That right, baby? In your mouth?”

You nod, unsure if he can even see you. And then you feel him bend, feel his fist in your hair, lifting your head until his lips are curled around the shell of your ear.

“You wanna show me what you woulda done?” he whispers, breath hot.

Your body’s still shaking, throbbing; you’re a sobbing mess, but still, you utter: “Yeah.”

Joel pulls you all the way off his lap then, widening his legs for you to sit between them.

“Gotta be quick, babygirl,” he tells you, pushing you by the shoulders down onto the carpet.

Your knees part to lower yourself closer to his crotch, fingers shakily fumbling with his zipper. Joel helps you, shifting his jeans until his cock springs free. He’s as hard as if you’d been playing with him this entire time, so hard you almost begin to drool at the sight of him.

He sighs shakily, hand leaning behind on the mattress to steady himself. “You’re gonna sit there like a good girl and make me cum, alright?”

You nod, eyes blown black with lust.

He grips the back of your head with one hand and guides his cock to your mouth with the other. You take his thick length in both hands, allowing a trail of spit to fall from your lips and cover his swollen tip, running down his shaft only to be collected and dragged back up by your fingers.

“Good girl,” Joel whispers, watching you. “Doin’ what I tell you, huh?”

A few strokes and his cock’s soaked. When his head lines up with your bottom lip and you open up wide, he pushes into your mouth, filling you up without stopping to let you catch your breath. You gag when he hits the back of your throat, and Joel groans.

“Know you can take it, baby, you’ve done it before. That’s my girl.”

You whimper in response, mouth full of his cock.

“Keep makin’ those pretty noises, whole hotel’s gonna be wonderin’ what’s goin’ on up here.”

He allows you a second to pull off of him, gasping for air when your mouth’s free again.

“Want ‘em to hear,” you choke out, lips slipping back down his cock.

“Yeah?” he bucks his hips up into your mouth. “You want ‘em to know? Why don’t I just take you downstairs right now, fuck you in front of everybody, huh? You like that?”

You whine, gasp something that sounds like a yes around his warm skin.

“Thought you would, fuckin’ dirty girl. Want everyone to see just how good you take me, hm? How fuckin’ wet you get for me?”

Your fingers reach for his balls, kneading them softly in your hands. Joel’s head tips back and he lets out a guttural groan.

“Look at you,” he purrs, “soakin’ wet all over the floor, lettin’ me fuck that pretty little mouth. Needed it bad, didn’t you?”

You follow the words he’s saying with your eyes, never taking your doe-eyed gaze off of him. He’s all you can see; the surrounding world blurred by lust and sex and by Joel.

“Been thinkin’ about this all fuckin’ day,” he mutters.

You pull yourself off of him, disobeying his tight grip at the back of your head.

“Yeah?” you breathe, giving in to him. “Been thinkin’ about you, too.”

Joel almost looks surprised, like he wasn’t expecting that to come out of your mouth. He’s never expecting any of what you say to come out of your mouth, is he?

Hell, you don’t expect half of what comes out of your fucking mouth these days.

You sink back down on him, eyes screwing shut with the feeling of him filling you up to the very bottom of your throat.

“So slutty, baby. You like that? Yeah?”

He’s speaking so soft but being so fucking rough, pushing you down onto his dick and then hauling you back off with a fistful of hair. His hips snap against your mouth and your hands leave his body to balance yourself on his thighs, stabilizing yourself with fingers through his loose belt loops.

You’re gagging on him, choking every time his salty head brushes against your throat, but Joel doesn’t stop. Each whimper, each muffled cry from you only pushes him closer, sends his head back in a wave of euphoria at the sight of you taking his cock in your mouth so good, the sounds of you choking on the size of him.

Your chin is soaked, dripping with spit and precum. Your cheeks dappled with tears. He doesn’t let up. You don’t fucking want him to. Your knees are slipping further apart, your cunt wetter than ever, dripping all over the plush carpet of the classiest hotel you’ve ever been in.

It’s fucking filthy, and you love every second of it.

Your lids grow heavy and you stare up at him, doused in rays from the window behind, blissed out on his body, him blissed out on yours, and you know he’s about to cum. His brows arch, his jaw falls slack. He’s focusing only on the feeling of your swollen lips around him, your throat contracting with each thrust of his hips.

He jerks, grunts out a, “Throat?”

“Uhuh,” you choke back, hands clamping around his thighs when he leans back.

One more jolt and he releases rope after rope of warm cum down you, painting the back of your throat and filling up your mouth. That all-too-familiar taste of Joel trickles all over your tongue.

He’s whispering, “Fuck, fuck, darlin’, fuck…” over and over, chanting your name, breathing curses and praises between.

When he stills and you feel him relax, your hands fall limp on your lap. You don’t move, not until Joel’s eyes flutter open and he slides his soft cock out of your mouth.

Your head rolls onto his thigh, eyes wide and soft as you gaze up at him. Equal parts enamored and painfully aroused.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he tells you. “Brats don’t get to fucking cum.”

There are words coming to your mind that you wouldn’t dare call him when he’s in this mood. Words you wouldn’t call him any other time, either, if it weren’t for the agonizing ache between your legs. This – fucking – guy.

You want to sob. Want to wrap yourself around his legs as he stands and beg him to throw you down on the bed, part your legs, use whatever the fuck he wants just to let you cum. Just to give you some release.

It’s pathetic. You’re pathetic. Dumb for this man.

He sits forward and tucks his limp cock back into his boxers, redoes his jeans. Then he leans down, scoops up your soaked panties and scrunches them in his fist. He slips them into his jeans pocket and, with a heaving sigh, pushes himself up from the bed.

You’re still squatted, knees apart, on the carpet. Arousal probably streaming out of you. Joel only lowers his hand and you take it, letting him pull you up to height. You still don’t believe he’s gonna let you walk out of here undealt with.

Until he wanders off toward the door, and there’s nothing left for you to do but follow.

Each step hurts, your thighs grazing against each other. Your naked cunt throbbing with every tiny movement.

Joel pauses at the door, turns the handle slowly, quietly, opening it just enough to poke his head and shoulders out, before beckoning you forward with a wave of his hand.

He blindly takes your wrist and leads you out of the room in a daze, letting the door close over as you both head back the way you came toward the staircase.

Under spotless chandeliers, past romantic paintings. Along the same plush carpet he’d shoved you along less than twenty minutes ago. Down the stairs, emerging at the bar, pair of you scanning the restaurant for your dad and Sarah. No sign of them.

“C’mon,” he nudges you, “still gotta get that bill.”

You stand by Joel’s side at the bar, catching a glimpse of the pair of you in the mirror opposite. Elbows touching, palms inches apart on the polished surface. Your heart swells to the point of almost hurting at the sight. The cover is back up, you’re back on planet earth; you’re nothing but a pair of acquaintances, friends at best.

Just a guy and his best bud’s daughter.

Joel’s tapping his credit card against the wood.

“What’s up?” you ask him.

“Hm?” he replies, eyes finding you, head still facing forward. Almost bracing for your dad’s appearance at any given moment.

“You’re being weird.”

“Ain’t being weird.”

“Still not gonna let me cum?”

He’s almost startled. You asked it quiet enough that nobody would’ve heard, if there were even anybody around you, but still. It feels like dangerous territory talking about it this out in the open.

“Nope,” he replies, chewing on the inside of his cheek.

“You know I’m gonna do it myself the second I get home, right?”

He shrugs. “You gonna call me?”

“Facetime you, if you want.”

His body goes rock solid. You knock into it, smirking. Before he can muster up a reply, the girl with the tattoo shows back up, smiling at Joel. He tells her the table number and she slides him the bill.

“How much is it?” you ask him.

He turns to look at you. “You won’t be findin’ out.”

You mock offense. A small part of you isn’t kidding. “’n why’s that?”

Joel ignores you. You twist over his arm to get a look and he bats you away, holding you at bay with his elbow while he places his card over the total amount and slides it back across the bar.

You admit defeat, though it kills you a little inside.

Joel does his little head nod again and you follow him to the exit. You walk out of the restaurant together, your chin as high as your shame will allow it, Joel’s parallel to his chest. Your dad’s stood against the truck deep in conversation with Sarah. Or, rather, Sarah’s deep in conversation at your dad.

“…so, she thought he was just textin’ his boys, but here she goes onto his Instagram messages, and it’s all these hearts, all these messages sayin’…”

“Where did you two get to?”

Joel opens the door for you silently, and you breathe a slightly awkward Thanks before climbing in.

Once he’s back in the front seat alongside your dad, he replies. “Charged me twice. Problem with the card reader.”

“I hope they apologized,” your dad says with a concerned tone. “Hope they ain’t tryin’ anythin’.”

“Nah,” Joel bats it away – unconvincingly. Or is that just because you know he just…you know.

Sarah’s still yapping – Kelly’s heartbroken, doesn’t know how she’s gonna go on. She – Sarah – is furious with Kelly’s boyfriend – ex-boyfriend? – his name is…Mike? Mick? Something beginning with M…Your ears are screaming.

“Happened to me once at a gas station. Charged twice for one tank a’ gas. I went back the next day ‘n asked the girl, she said she didn’t remember me. I showed her the bank statement, said, Why the hell would I need two tanks of gas for one vehicle? She had to call her manager. It was…insanity, Joel. You be careful.”

Joel’s pretending to listen, murmuring Right and Uhuh when appropriate, but he aims every second glance at you from the rearview mirror. You tug your skirt as far down your thighs as it’ll go, feeling exposed and guilty and ashamed and yet so fucking good all in one.

You can still taste him on your tongue. Your throat feels raw, your jaw sore. He knows it, from the looks he’s giving you in the mirror. It’s satisfaction, mixed with longing, mixed with guilt. Your underwear is in his front pocket. Your thighs clamp shut, feeling yourself seeping all over his backseat. One big, chaotic mess.

The car falls into silence, Sarah’s thumbs typing rapidly, Joel’s elbow propped against the window, cheek leaning on his knuckles. You lean your own head against the window, the engine drumming into your skull, the cold of the glass relieving your scorching skin. Your dad starts quietly singing again, and you wish you had the energy to put on a convincing voice to tell him to shut up.

“Maybe tomorrow a bullet may find me, tonight, nothing’s worse than this pain in my heart.”

----------

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(lmk if i’ve missed you out & check my taglist info for how to be added!)

#joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #the last of us #tlou #tlou fic #dbf!joel miller #dbf!joel #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel miller fluff #fic: cowboy like me

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ryder-writes · 4 months ago

Text

Your Daughter is Getting Bullied- Dad!Kiribaku x Reader

CW: Bulling, your kid has a bruise, implication of Kirishima dealing with SH in the past

A/n: I randomly got motivation to write angry dad Kirishima so here we are lmao. It is not said whether you had your daughter biologically or if she were adopted. If u read my Dad!Bakugo fic and recognize your daughters name no you don’t. Also u can tell when I lost motivation💀

WC: 1.1k

Eijiro Kirishima was blinded by rage. He couldn’t see anything but red.

"What do you mean my daughter is being bullied?!" He yelled, demanding an answer.

"Mr. Kirishima, please calm do-"

"Don’t you dare tell me to calm down!" He slammed his hands on the principal's desk. "When I come to pick up my daughter I should not see a bruise on her arm!"

"Mr. Kiri-"

"No. I'm going home to talk to my daughter and partners about what to do about your unprofessional and incompetent school staff." He spat. He turned around and grabbed his daughter's backpack from the office chair before walking toward the door. He stopped in the door way and turned his head back toward the principal. "Expect a letter from my office." He snarled. He made his way to his daughter's classroom, controlling his breathing as he walked. Once he was calm enough, he walked into the classroom.

"Dada!" Enya yelled, running to hug her dad.

"Hey, Sunshine." Eijiro smiled. He turned to her teacher. "Thank you so much for looking after her."

"Oh of course, Mr. Kirishima. I apologize for not noticing sooner." She apologized. He raised his hand;

"No, no. This isn't your fault." He sighed. "I want to say thank you for being such an amazing teacher. Enya really enjoys your class." He chuckles under his breath, "She talks about it all the time at home." The teacher smiled.

"I'm thankful that I could teach your daughter."

"Well, we should get home." Eijiro said as he picked up Enya. "Say goodbye, Sunshine." Enya turned around and waved:

"Bye-bye! See you tomorrow!" Eijiro bit his lip.

Eijiro turned the key and unlocked the front door to your house. Enya immediately ran inside to go greet you and Katsuki. He sighed and closed the door behind him. He dropped his duffel bag (filled with his hero gear) and Enya's backpack on the organizer by the door. He walked into the dining room to see Katsuki at the dinner table. Enya was on his lap, talking to him about her day. Eijiro assumed he was reading, as there was a book folded on the table, as well as his reading glasses perched on the top of his head. You were across the way in the kitchen, cooking dinner. He walked over to you, letting his head fall on your shoulder and his hands grab your waist.

"Hello, Ei." You chuckled as you turned your head and kissed his head. He grumbled in response. "What's wrong, love?" You asked. You knew that it wasn’t good to hide your emotions; Eijiro taught you that. He buried his head deeper into your shoulder and mumbled something. "Hmm?" You asked for clarification. Your moment, however, was interrupted by a loud voice.

"WHO THE HELL DID THIS TO YOU!?"

"Katsuki! Language!" You yelled, leaving Eijiro's grasp and making your way towards Katsuki. "Now, what…happened..." You were in shock. Right there, on your daughter's arm, was a bright purple and yellow bruise. You immediately ran over and crouched down next to your daughter (who was still on Katsuki's lap). "Are you okay, sweetheart?"

"Yeah, it doesn’t hurt anymore." She answered. In your peripheral, you saw Katsuki's eye twitch.

"Okay, that’s good. Go change out of your uniform then we'll have dinner, okay?" She nodded and walked away to her room. As soon as she was out of earshot, Katsuki dragged his hands across his face.

"Fucckk." He groaned. "Why would anyone do that to her?!" He stood up from his chair and started pacing. You grabbed his glasses off of his head, just incase he accidentally broke them from his rage again.

"I don’t know, Kats." You sighed. Your heart sunk. "Do you think it's because of us?"

"What? No, of course not baby." Eijiro comforted you by grabbing your hand.

"I don’t know." Katsuki interjected.

"Kat!"

"What? I mean it's possible. I know for a fact that no one else in her class has three parents." He reasoned. You shifted your weight, uncomfortable with the fact that Katsuki was probably right.

"Okay, but that doesn’t have to be the case." Eijiro tried to reason. "There could very well be another reason."

"Like what, Red?" Katsuki took a step toward Eijiro. "Fuckin' tell me what else." Eijiro remained silent. "Can't, can you?"

"Guys." You sighed. They both immediately stopped and looked at you in unison. "Let's just ask Enya." You suggested.

Eijiro chuckled dryly: "Yeah, that might be better."

"So, Squirt, do y'know why you got hurt?" Katsuki asked. You four were now in her room, putting her to bed.

"Well, Abby pushed me into my desk today." She answered.

"Did she say why?" You inquired.

"Uh- she said it was cause I didn’t have 'good normal parents'." She made air quotes with her hands. Your eyes all widened . Eijiro immediately stood up and left, clenching his fists. You noticed Enya watching him leave.

"Don’t worry sweetheart, Dada just needs some time." You kiss her forehead tell her goodnight before heading out to where Eijiro had gone. You found him pacing around the living room, hands mindlessly scratching at his arms. You immediately walked over in front of him and grabbed his hands, ceasing his movement. You interlaced you fingers with his, bringing his attention to the semicolon bracelet he wore.

He exhaled. "Thank you." You hummed in response. "I just don’t know what to do. I want what's best for her but… she loves that school."

"That doesn’t matter if she's getting hurt." Katsuki remarked from the hallway. "I don’t care what she thinks. I'm not willingly let her go to a school where she's getting bullied."

"Her opinion is still important, Kats." You reasoned.

"Yeah, yeah. Sure."

"Okay, but I think Katsuki is right, Hun." Eijiro Let go of one of your hands to grab onto one of Katsuki's. "I don’t feel safe sending her there anymore."

You sighed: "Yeah, you're right. I just feel bad for her."

"Dada, why didn’t you wake me up?"

"Oh, sorry Sunshine. You're not going to school today."

"Oh." Enya paused. "Why?"

"Uhm, we just want to make sure that you're getting a good education." Eijiro rubbed the back of his neck. You and Katsuki both knew that meant he was lying. Luckily, Enya hadn't realized that yet. You walked into the living room, seeing him sitting on the couch on his laptop, talking to Enya who had just woken up. He was looking at new schools, since his patrol wasn’t until later. You called Enya into the kitchen, telling her it was time for breakfast. Eijiro got up and joined her as well (Katsuki had left already).

"Honey, can we talk real quick?" You asked.

"Of course." He answered, following you into the hallway.

"I was thinking, what if she gets bullied at her new school?" You whispered, voice laced with concern. Ei gave you a sympathetic smile.

"I don’t think she will. And, even if she does," He rested his forehead against yours "we'll be there for her."

A/n Pt.2: Okay, okay. I know the ending sucks, I had plans to write more I swear but motivation's a bitch. Anyways, if you enjoyed Dad!Bakugo and Dad!Kirishima, feel free to check out my masterlist, with more dad content.

#kiribaku x reader #dad kiribaku #mha x reader #dad bakugou #dad kirishima #kirishima x reader #bakugo x reader

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princessmaybank · 7 months ago

Note

hi princess, I hope your break is going well <33 this is like super specific but could you do a jj x Routledge!reader with super blonde frizzy hair nd jj doesn’t know she dyes it brown until he walks in on her with a lions mane getting dye ready

No pressure at all for u to get to this, i love ur work so so much and I hope you’re going okay princess <333 thank you

thank you for the request! wasn't sure if you wanted smut in there but that's how all of my Fics end up so I'm assuming you do! I'm sorry this turned so dark if you wanted it fluffier. I have recently started Haunting Adeline 😂🤭🩷

Hair Dye

Pairings: JJ x Routledge!Reader

Warnings: Surprise Kiss, Fingering, Rough!Dark!JJ, Spanking, Panty Ripping, Hair Pulling, Choking, P in V, Creampie, Caught, etc.

Summary: Read the ask^

Author's Note: Wrote this so fast, I hope you like it, sorry it's so late!

"I just don't see the point, dad and I have brown hair, you got blonde hair, you should feel special!" John B says as I walk down the aisle searching for the color I want. "That's exactly the point JB. I feel left out. It's odd, plus people have asked us way too many times if we're dating, even though we have the same face." JB rolled his eyes in defeat as I found the shade of brown I was searching so hard for. I was so excited that I could barely wait until we got home.

"Hey JJ is coming over soon!" I hear JB yell from the kitchen as he puts away some groceries. "I expect nothing less. Your boyfriend basically lives here!" I laugh as I go into the bathroom and read the instructions. Once I think I finally have it down and the parts mixed together, my brother calls me into the kitchen. "I'm gonna start cooking dinner. Is there any way I am going to talk you out of this? Blonde hair takes a long time to come back." He says and almost on cue JJ stumbles in the front door. "And yet yours keeps coming back." I say throwing my thumb over my shoulder. He chuckled at my stupid joke and ruffled my hair, causing it to frizz up even more than it already had.

"Hey there, hot stuff." JJ said with a wink. I roll my eyes before walking to the bathroom. "He was talking to you!" I shout teasing JB about his best friend. "I definitely wasn't but okay. What's with her?" I hear him ask my brother. I put the gloves on and get a towel ready under my neck. "She's going to dye her hair. I kept trying to talk her out of it. Fuck, I forgot something at the store. I'll be back, try not to kill each other." I heard the screen door slam as John B ran out.

I heard loud footsteps coming from the hallway until they reached me. "You're not gonna try to talk me out of it too are you?" I say setting down the bottle of dye. "Not gonna try shit" I breathe out a sigh of relief. "You're not doing it." He demanded. "Who do you think you are?" I ask with a full attitude. "Y/N. You don't need to dye your hair." I shook my head. "I want to!" I whined. JJ went to grab the bottle of hair dye and so did I. Eventually he tore it from me and held it above his head. I wasn't able to reach it and he laughed because he thought he had won. I looked him in the eyes and took his face in my hands, planting a big kiss on him. when his lips moved back and forth with mine, I knew he'd drop his arm any second. And he did. I took the chance and stole my bottle back running to the guest bedroom and trying to make it to that bathroom. I wasn't aware JJ was right behind me until I was pinned against the bathroom door.

"Why must you be a little brat all the time?" He asked. JJ's eyes are dark now. This wasn't a game anymore. He removed the bottle from my hand, I let him take it because I was so stunned by this sudden change. "You're. Not. Dying. It." He said with a low menacing voice. "Jay-" I tried to plead, I don't know why, but he was scaring me. He was also kind of arousing me. I never had these feelings for my brother's best friend, maybe it was just how dark he felt in this moment.

He stared into my eyes before placing his lips to mine once again. It felt different this time, I felt a zing, coursing through my veins. His fingertips were now bruising my hips as he lightly humped me through our clothes. This felt unreal. I peak my eyes open for a moment. Yep. it was still JJ. He was still grabbing me with an intense force and grinding his rock hard cock into me.

My eyes shut again and I just went with it. His right hand moved to unbutton my shorts. When he found his way in, he didn't tease, he only plummeted two fingers into my soaked core. "He won't be gone long, if there's something you want from me..tell me now." He demanded again. My eyes stared into his begging to be fucked but I knew it wouldn't be that easy. "F-fuck me.." I whispered through my breath, unable to think as his fingers moved back and forth. "Speak up." His harsh tone scared me slightly but I said my phrase again, louder so he could hear.

His fingers escaped my opening, causing a whine to spill from my lips. He rolled his eyes before pulling my shorts down. I kicked them to the side before I was roughly turned around and slammed up against the door. A gasp flew out of me unexpectedly followed by another when I felt him slap my ass. I let out loud moans as he continued, taking turns with my cheeks. When they were blood red, he squeezed them in his hands. I hissed from the sensitivity he caused.

He toyed with my panties for a few seconds before he spoke. "You don't need these." He chuckled lightly before I heard a ripping sound. Shock was written all over my face as he tore the rest of the thin fabric off of my body. His fingers found my slick folds and teased them for a moment. I was about to chime in before hearing the sound of a zipper and shorts dropping to the ground. I didn't have enough time to process the noise before I felt his cock slide inside me. He let out a dark groan and quickened his pace, not letting me adjust to his size. He was going so fast and so hard. I was a moaning mess. My head started to fall but he didn't let it get too far. His hand pulled me back by my hair while his other wrapped around my throat. His fingertips squeezed tighter, not giving me much room to work air in or out. "You like that? Like my hand wrapped around your throat while you take my cock?" He asked and all I could do was give a small nod before he pulled my hair again, so now my ear was against his lips. "What would John B say if he walked in on us right now? Think he'd be pissed to see his sister with my cock jammed in her tight pussy?" He teased.

Those words were enough to cause an eruption in me. My orgasm hit me like a freight train and slid down his cock and onto his thighs. His hand left my throat and fell to my hips as I pulled in as much air as possible. He fucked me hard a few more times before his cum leaked inside of me.

The sound of the screen door opening and closing apparently wasn't enough to get JJ's dick out of me. My throat was tired, I couldn't mutter a word and JJ knew that. He rode out his high which made my eyes roll back. It was enough for me to squeeze my thighs together and cum again.

"JJ when I said anything, this is not what I meant!" JB shouted. We never even heard him walk in, but we heard the bedroom door slam. We cooled down and I went into the bathroom to inspect my neck. There were bruises where JJ had a hold of me. "What did he mean by that?" I asked. JJ was a lot brighter now. "Oh he messaged me before you two got home and told me to make you not dye your hair. He said to do anything I have to." He chuckled. "Wasn't planning this.." He said pointing to my neck. "But I'm glad it happened." He shrugged and kissed my forehead. A smile spread onto my face before I laid my head on his chest. He held me in his arms and I promised to never dye my hair.

"Good, I like pullin' on this blonde lion's mane." He giggled before I swatted at his chest.

#outer banks #jj maybank #rudy pankow smut #rudy pankow x reader #obx fic #obx x reader #outer banks smut #jj maybank smut #jj maybank imagine #smut prompts

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lanadelnegan · 1 year ago

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Ooh girl! Loving your work! I had an idea of a smutty fic with JDM himself. Maybe something with him being scared of showing his jealous side because the reader is his younger girlfriend but can’t help it when a man flirts with her

THANK U THANK U. A jealous JDM? I can do that hehe.

Jealousy, Jealousy

Jeffrey Dean Morgan x Reader

Warnings: smut, 18+, NSFW, semi-public sex, car sex (riding), a jealous, possessive jdm, age-gap relationship

A/n: I didn’t even mean for this to turn into such daddy-kink, but it did towards the end. So I hope you’re into that. 🥵

"Can I buy you a drink?" A younger, blonde man smirks next to me.

"Oh, no. I'm good. Thanks though."

"Come on. I insist." Before I can reject him, he plants himself in the stool next to me before motioning to the bartender.

"Um, I -"

"Excuse me, you mind grabbing this pretty lady here another.. On me." He asks the bartender before smiling at me again.

"Names Drew." He tilts his head back swallowing his drink.

"Drew, I'm.. here with someone."

"Nice to meet you, here with someone." He says jokingly as if that's my name but I ignore his lame attempt.

"Look baby, if you are here with someone, where is he?" His head tilts to the side at me and I raise my eyebrows, clearing my throat as I look past him at the much taller man standing behind him.

The bartender places the drink in front of me as soon as Drew turns and notices Jeffrey standing behind him.

"Wow, thanks for the drink man." Jeffrey's large hand grabs Drew's shoulder roughly and I watch his fingers squeeze until the veins on his hands become even more visible.

Drew visibly cringes in pain at the touch and watches Jeffrey finish the drink he ordered me in two gulps.

"I'm more of a whiskey guy, though." Jeffrey smiles at him arrogantly, wiping the corner of his mouth before slamming the glass down on the bar. Drew tries his best to put on the tough guy act but I can see the fear behind his eyes.

"Sorry man, she didn't say she was here with her dad." He glares at Jeffrey.

I make a "yikes" face, showing my teeth and shaking my head. Poor Drew, this isn't gonna end well for him.

Jeffrey chuckles in his face, keeping eye contact with him, and my legs clench a little watching his "Negan" side come out.

We've only been dating for a couple months now, and while I'm sure our age-gap is strange to other people, Jeffrey and I couldn't be happier. I've always dated men my age, but men in their young 20's don't know how to treat a woman. Jeffrey is so good to me.. in every way imaginable.

I've never seen this protective, jealous side of him.. but I think I like it.

"Daddy.." I interrupt. "why won't this weirdo leave us alone?" I talk in a baby voice to Jeffrey, mocking Drew for calling him my dad.

"Wait.. I.. I know you. You play that asshole in the walking dead... Can't fucking stand him." Drew huffs at him.

"Y/n, baby, go wait for me in the car." Jeffrey demands.

Before I go to leave, I stand on my tippy toes and kiss Jeffrey's cheek slowly, glancing at Drew who looks like smoke could come out of his ears any second. Freak.

"That's fucking gross, you know that right?" Drew calls after me as I walk away. "He could be your grandpa! Bet he can't even get it up."

Before I can open the door to leave, I hear a loud bang from behind me. I turn to see Jeffrey's hand bring Drew's blonde head up from the bar top he just slammed it against. "Dude you just broke my fucking nose! Drew wipes the blood from his face.

"Babe, stop!" I call out.

Jeffrey glances at me, still firmly gripping the back of Drew's hair.

"You're lucky my girls watching, or I'd break more than that." He grits out next to his ear.

I've never seen him make that face.. and it does something to me. He looks so hot and.. unhinged.

"Car. NOW." Jeffrey says in my direction as he tosses the blonde man on the ground. He grabs his leather jacket and follows me to the car. We both get in, staying silent for a moment as I try to register what happened.

He sighs, dropping his head and gripping his knuckles around the steering wheel. "Baby, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have act-"

Before he can finish, I'm climbing on top of him like a dog in heat, slamming my lips against his while lifting my black dress until it's bunched around my waist., revealing my red thong. The seat is pushed far enough back to allow me room to comfortably sit in his lip. His mouth parts open and my tongue swipes across his. Fuck, his mouth tastes so good.

I bite his bottom lip when I pull away, letting my fingers tangle through his salt and pepper hair. His hands firmly grab my ass as I grind myself desperately against him. I'm so wet I'm pretty sure he'll have a spot on his jeans. I take his semi-hard cock out of his black jeans and stroke it twice before he's solid in my hand.

The best thing about being with an older man? The size of his cock and the way he knows how to use it. It's big enough to where the tip reaches just above his belly button as it stands against him and my mouth waters at the sight. I lift myself up, wasting no time due to my throbbing pussy needing him so badly, and gently slide down his length. His head drops back slightly as he watches me through lust-filled eyes.

"Fuck, baby. That's it." He talks me through it as I struggle to sit completely with him in me.

I bounce on him while he guides me up and down, squeezing my ass. He looks up at me as I start to slow down, grinding against his cock repeatedly as it hits the right spot.

“You look so fucking good riding me, baby.”

His window is cracked open a few inches and we’re parked right outside the front of the bar. The thought of getting caught makes me hotter as I moan and bite at his ear.

Just as I’m about to come, I hear the bells of the bar doors ring and look to the side, seeing Drew walk out. His nose is bandaged, so someone must have helped him out.

“We’ve got company, doll. You wanna tell him who you belong to?” Jeffrey slams me down onto his cock so hard that my vision clouds and I feel my orgasm rush through me. My mouth falls open just as I look to the side and see Drew walking past the car.

“Daddyyy!” I moan loudly, getting Drew’s attention. He looks at me disgustedly and shakes his head. I watch him angrily get in his car and drive away and smile to myself.

“Fuck. Daddy.. I’m gonna cum.” I cry out.

“Soak my fucking cock baby. Give it to me.”

I cry out louder as my walls contract around him. He kisses me hard and looks into my eyes.

“Fuck, doll. I love you.”

I stare at him wide eyed and can’t believe he just said it. I’ve known I love him since the first week we met, but I wanted him to say it first.

“I love you too, Jeffrey... I.. I want you to cum in me.” I kiss him lips softly this time and I slowly slide myself up and down on him.

He smiles up at me. “Yea? You want daddy’s cum in you, baby?”

I nod and bounce on him faster.

“Cum in my pussy, daddy. Please!”

“Baby, fuck. Fuck. Ahhh.” He moans and his dick pulses, shooting strings of hot cum deep inside me.

I stay on top of him, kissing him as he comes down from his high. His seed leaks out while his cock is still in me and I feel it run down my legs.

“I need strange men to hit on me more often.” I breathe heavily, teasing him.

“Funny, doll.” A loud smack lands on my ass. “I promise they won’t fuck like you like daddy does.”

#jeffrey dean morgan #negan #jdmorgan #jdm x reader #jdmfanfiction #negan fanfiction #twd negan #jdm fanfiction #jeffrey dean morgan smut #jdm x you #jdm oneshot #negan oneshot #jeffrey dean morgan x you #jeffrey dean morgan fanfiction #jeffrey dean morgan x reader #jdm imagine #fanfic request

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nmakii · 7 months ago

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Hii! Hear me out on this, right, Alastor (in your current yandere husband au) has one-on-one bonding with our lovely Noah. (I have a cat named Noah...lowkey imagining him here.) Idk what dads do with kids but for the sake of plot I'm going to call it hunting. Reader is sitting quietly as Noah tells her all about his day in the forest and how he got to see his food before it was his food! She starts thinking that no amount of nurture can overpower someone's nature. Reader doesn't hate her son...but she's just worried and is trying her best, because in her mind, she's still a single mom and always will be. (Rightfully so) Alastor is egging this on and almost trying to get reader to lose it in front of Noah, to prove something. Other things ! Alastor is def not happy with one kid lmao. Seven years is a long age gap...better hurry up! He wants his Emilia....not because his mother is asking for it or anything like it! Speaking of his mother...god rest her soul man...i lowkey would just marry him for her to be my legal mother (in-law). Rip mom...fly high girl... (Ps, can i please hug you platonically, i literally love you and your writing so much. Please remember that you've made so many cool things and will continue to make cool things no matter which path you go. Love you girly (gn), a little more than Alastor's mom) - Charry Anon

WE’RE GONNA FLY AWAY FROM HERE

[before you read this, read the rest of the story!]

— the more and more alastor influences your son, the more he becomes just like his father. but, why stop at just one child?

— i love u i will make MORE yandere alastor bc hes now my fave

you hated this house. no matter how much alastor tried to hide it, the subtle scent of blood reeked from all over this house.

you oh, so desperately wanted to run away— hop on a train all the way to long island. but, it isn’t so simple anymore. you had a son to think of, a son who’s growing scarily closer to his father.

the thought of hurting noah might have never crossed alastor’s mind, but he wasn’t above threatening it to bring you back home. and above all that, you couldn’t leave him alone with this wolf.

and so, you stayed.

“and then, papa told me to stay quiet… and he shot the turkey! papa took me to his butcher room and showed how get the yummy turkey meat! y’know mama, papa has lots of meat in his butcher room.” your son rambled on, kneeling on a stool by the kitchen counter as you prepare for dinner. “lots of meat, you say?” you raised an eyebrow. “…that sounds really fun, baby.” you sighed.

it’s only been a month since he forced you back. and, noah’s already calling alastor ‘papa’. he tainted your sweet boy’s mind— ‘mama lied to you, she wanted to keep you all to herself. she’s really selfish, but then again, i can’t blame her!’

and, you couldn’t protest. if you did, if you broke the rose-tinted filter alastor created— he would hurt you. not physically, alastor is still a ‘gentleman’. he’d hurt you mentally, break your little mind until you can’t do anything but nod your head.

alastor would never strike his hand on noah. after all, deep down, there’s some part of him that’s still in love with you, albeit in his own twisted way. and, noah is apart of you, alastor couldn’t bear to hurt him, not unless he’s misbehaving…

“mama, can we have the turkey we hunted for dinner?!” noah asked excitedly, slamming his hands against the counter over and over again. “sure, baby… but, remember before..? you got in trouble with mr. yee because you released all his chickens…” you asked, quite desperate. this little boy, the one who finds hunting fun. he is nothing like the one who wanted to become vegan after he found out where chicken comes from, despite failing because of his love for chicken burgers.

“yeah, but papa showed me how fun hunting is!” he squealed. at the mention of papa, alastor laughed, carrying noah from behind, tickling his belly as he kissed your little boy’s head. “talking to mama about our little trip, huh?” alastor grinned.

“ah, alastor… dinner will be ready in a half hour.” you glared at him. “no worries, my love. it just means that i have a half hour to play with our beautiful son!” he smugly said. he saw the hatred in your eyes the moment he said ‘our’.

he was trying to make you lose your shit. make you seem like a hysterical woman. that way, if you even tried to divorce him, noah would be left in his care. now that you were older and wiser, you wouldn’t play into his little trap.

“alright, you two have fun.” you begrudgingly smiled. alastor’s eyes widened, showing his shock for just one split second. alastor nudged noah, “go on for a second. papa wants to talk with mama.”

oh god, what now?

once noah left, alastor went behind you, straddling your waist. “what is it, alastor?” you groaned. “i want another child, darling” he whispered against your ear. “i visited my mother with noah last week, she adored him, my love. she said she’d adore a granddaughter this time. she even picked out a name, emilia.” he rambled on. “as much as i love your mother, i don’t want another child, alastor.” you hissed out.

“oh, but it’s not just my mother, dear. little noah also wants a little brother or sister of his own.” at the thought of a little sister for noah, it would keep him busy, away from alastor, wouldn’t it? he’d gain those brotherly instincts that are so reminiscent of the soft hearted boy you raised.

“…alright…” you frowned. alastor’s grip on your hips tightened as he pressed kisses onto your neck. “good girl.” your head leaned back as you melted into his touch. as much as you didn’t want to, the warm sensation of his soft lips on your skin was to die for. “after dinner, darling.” he grinned, finally leaving you alone.

what had you done to be forsaken with this monster?

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #alastor #alastor x reader #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #hasbin alastor #alastor hazbin x reader #alastor hc #alastor headcanons #human alastor #alastor the radio demon #yandere alastor #yandere hazbin hotel #yandere

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sturniolos-blog · 8 months ago

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can u do REALLY angsty dad!matt (with a happy ending)

basically the reader (shes pregnant) gets into an argument with matt cause hes always gone (on tours and stuff) so they go to bed mad at eachother and when she wakes up, hes gone (like on the flight/tour bus)

and basically while hes gone she gives birth and matt finds out anddd u can take it on from there

You’re never with me - Matt Sturniolo x Y/n oneshot

warnings - angst, arguing, swearing, fluff at the end, mentions of a fall, slight blood, mentions of urine

disclaimer: 1st person pov. i also changed it up where Y/n doesn’t have the baby because that’d like suck if matt missed the birth of his newborn, this one will be Y/n being pregnant with Mailo since i already did the birth of Ella and how that went down.

—————————

9:36pm

I peak into my 2 year olds room, smiling as i see her laying in bed with her eyes wide open.

“You’re supposed to be asleep, Ella..” I laugh, she cant talk really well but i think she understands what i say.

“Dada!” She says as she plays with her hair, sitting up now.

I sigh and give her a sad smile, “I know, baby.” I say softly. Ella slowly gets up and comes over to my leg, wanting to be picked up. I can barely see her through my 8 month old pregnant belly. “I can’t pick you up anymore, my love.” I let out a breathy laugh.

She starts whining as she pulls my shirt.

I look to the comfy chair that sat in her room before walking over to it and sitting in it, letting out a ‘hmph’ as i sat down. I pat my lap, “Come here, lovey. Come sit with mama.” I say as a smile appears on her face, running towards me and slapping my leg softly as she tries to climb on my lap.

I slowly pull her up and put her more towards the side of me since my belly was in the way. She rests her head on my shoulder as she sucks her thumb.

I bounce my knee slightly, rocking her softly as her breathing slows down.

—————————

10:13pm

After Ella falls asleep in my lap, i struggle to get up, trying to hold my daughter without letting go.

I scooch myself up to the edge of the seat, grabbing onto the dresser next to the chair and letting out a groan as i stand up, trying to keep my daughter asleep.

I then put her to sleep, covering her with the blanket before walking out of the room and shutting the door softly.

I rub my forehead before walking into the bathroom, getting ready to wash my face.

I grab my face wash from the cabinet and put it on the sink, pumping two pumps before rubbing it all over my face, scrubbing harshly.

I then turn on the faucet, cupping water in my hands before washing off the face wash.

I go to open my eyes but when i feel burning i let out a small sound, reaching around the kitchen sink to find the bathroom towel.

As i try to find the towel i knock over the bottle of face wash onto the floor, i let out a small yelp before i find the towel and immediately dabbing my eyes with the towel, regaining my sight and putting the towel down.

I look to the floor, seeing the face wash, contemplating if i should pick it up or just wait until Matt gets home.

I don’t need no man, i’m an independent woman.

I think to myself, letting out a sigh before starting to lean down to pick up the bottle.

As i almost reach it, one hand holding onto the counter to keep me from falling and the other trying to reach the bottle, i see a spider.

I let out a scream, falling on one knee before i bang my head on the edge of the counter, before finally my back hits the tub.

I let out a pained moan, my hand reaching up to touch my head that was now bleeding. Also, seeing my knee that had a scrap on it.

I let out a frustrated groan, slamming my hand on the tiled floor before i put my hand on my belly.

God, i really have to pee.

—————————

11:34pm

It’s been like an hour and i still cant get up, and trust me i’ve tried. But, i physically can’t. My belly blocking me from even trying, my head spinning too from the hit.

I also was now sitting in a puddle of urine, crying on the floor.

I sniffed as i tried to move but i can’t.

“Baby, i’m home.” I hear a soft voice say, Matt.

“Matt, please, come in here!” I call out.

Matt had a smile on his face before it dropped seeing me on the floor.

“W-what happened?” He said, kneeling down as his eyes widen even bigger when he sees the puddle of piss i was sitting in.

“A fucking spider.” I spit out before letting out another sob. “It was a spider!” I cried, my head going against the glass of the shower above the bath, tears streaming down my face.

“O-okay, it’s okay, don’t cry.” Matt says, grabbing a washcloth and wetting it before putting it to my forehead, myself letting out a hiss as he does so

“Sorry..” He mutters, dabbing my cut a couple more times. “Did you fall?” He asks.

I nod and sniffle.

“Okay, come on, baby.” He coos, pulling me to my feet.

I look down at my pants that were covered in pee, continuing to cry.

Matt holds onto me while leaning over the puddle on the floor and turning on the shower, putting it on a good tempature.

“Arms up, n/n.” He says softly, i do as he says, lifting my arms over my head before he pulls my shirt off my head and placing it on the counter.

His hands go to my grey sweatpants and pull them down to my ankles. “Step.” He waits as i put my hands on his shoulder, carefully stepping out of my pants.

He grabs my underwear and pulls it down too, muttering another step as i do so.

I was now completely naked.

Matt then grabbed a towel from the closet, placing it on the floor where my urine was and guiding me to get in the shower, stepping on the towel and over the bath.

“All right..” Matt says, “Wash your body and i’ll come back with fresh clothes and i’ll do your hair for you. Sound good?” He asks me, watching as i grab my favorite soap.

I nod, sniffling again.

“Need anything else, sweetheart?” Matt asks, a worried look on his face.

I then shake my head before turning my back towards him and starting to wash my body.

“Okay, I love you..” He mutters before closing the shower door.

———

As he promised he came back in to wash my hair, scrubbing softly before helping me out, and helping me into my clothes, giving me a pair of his boxers because he knows i like them better.

I rub my forehead before climbing into bed, more like plopping on the bed with my belly. Laying on my back and letting out a breath.

Matt then turns off the bathroom light before coming in our bedroom.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” Matt asked me. I felt him get into bed too.

“No.” I sighed out, moving slightly to find a comfortable position.

“Okay…” Matt sighs. “Are you sure-”

I struggle to sit up, letting out a huff before Matt helps me.

“What are you doing?” He asks as I throw my legs over the side of the bed, starting to stand up.

“I just need a second, Matt.” I say as i let out a breath.

Matt looks at me confused, “A second for what, do you need-”

“A second to breathe, Matt! A second to fucking breathe!” I snap as my breathing picks up, tears welling in my eyes.

“Okay, Okay. I’m sorry.” He whispers.

I sniffle as i wipe my eyes. “Y-you’re never here, Matt.” I finally let out a sob.

Matt scoffs, “What? Baby, i know i’ve been gone a lot, but i come home every day-”

“I know, i know. A-and your work has always been a struggle for us but now it’s just not that anymore, it’s you, Matt.” I say, letting out another sob. He gives me a confused look so i continue, “It’s like when you’re here, you’re not. You come home late, either have a beer or watch tv, or both. A-and then come to bed later while i’m already asleep. Then leave again in the morning. It’s the same cycle over and over. Y-you’re here but you’re never with me.” I sniffle.

Matt looks down before shaking his head, “That’s not true.” He says quietly.

I scoff in disbelief, “It’s not? Okay, fine. Then, when’s the last time we shared a meaningful kiss, Matt? When’s the last time we cuddled in bed? When’s the last time you hung out with your daughter!?” I yell.

Matt stays silent, shaking his head.

I nod, “Exactly.” I croak out.

“I love you, Y/n.” Matt says, putting his hand on my back.

“Then act like it.” I spit.

Matt nods, “I’ll make it up to you, Okay? I’ll be here for you, a-and Ella and then for our son when he’s born. I’m sorry- a-and if i was here you wouldn’t have gotten hurt and im sorry i let that happen, Okay? I love you.” He says before wrapping his arms around me.

I nod and sink into his touch.

It felt nice to have my husband back.

—————————

the end was lazy but i’m doneee so hope yall like it

taglist: @sturniolosmind @novasturniolo03 @hearts4chriss @vinniehackerslefttoe @christhopersturniolo @stars4matt @streamermattsgf @sturnolio-luvs @sturnioloslurps @marlenafortuna @lovergirl4387 @sturniololovesss

#matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #christopher sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #spotify #sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x you #matthew sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo smut #matthew sturniolo

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cozage · 1 year ago

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OMG HIII I LOVE YOUR WRITINGGG this is gonna be my first request ever (literally having a nervous breakdown) but I wanted to request a fem reader who is the bio daughter of whitebeard and comes back after 2 years of shinobi training to meet the new crew member Fire fist ace! and can you pls make it a short fic (I cannot fathom the words of how obsessed I am with this man IFDFJDKDGJK) (also can she have a DF that's associated with lava? pls and thank you *literally bowing*)

A/N: God this was so adorable to write. I'm so obsessed with this fun little story. Literally once I started writing I couldn't stop. thank u

Characters: female reader, Ace, Marco, Whitebeard & Crew

Cw: alcohol, drunk reader

Total word count: 2.3k

Part 2 | Table of Contents | Read on A03

The Daughter’s Return Chapter 1: The Promised Position

The vivre card in your hand continued to move forward, but you could see the familiar outline of the Moby Dick ahead of you, and you grinned at the sight of being so close to your family again. You had been training for two years, and you couldn’t wait to catch up with your friends and your father after being apart for so long.

Your small boat looked even tinier as the giant ship loomed closer to you, but you weren’t concerned. Blue flames shot into the sky from the blue ship, and you sent out a stream of lava into the air in return. It was your code to the first division commander and friend, proof that you were who they were expecting.

You saw a creature with blue flamed wings shoot into the sky, and you gathered up your things. You only had a small backpack and a few bags of food, so there wasn’t much to pack up. You said goodbye to your small raft, thanking it for its usefulness during your journey.

Marco landed on your boat, and you squealed in delight seeing your brother again. He wrapped you up in a hug and spun you around, laughing gleefully at your return.

“Pops is going to be thrilled to see you,” he said, sitting you down. He ruffled your hair affectionately, smiling at you. “Missed you, kid.”

“Missed you too, Marco,” you said, grinning at him. You picked up a bag, handing it off to him to carry back to the ship.

“You’ve grown!” he commented. “I can’t look down at you anymore.”

You gave him a cheeky grin. “I’m stronger too.”

“You better be!” He laughed. “Pops didn’t smuggle you into Wano for you to come back the same!”

“Maybe he’ll finally make me commander now.” You stared up at the ship, thinking of the goal you’d been working towards since the beginning of your training.

“About that…” Marco trailed off, and you shot him a suspicious look.

“What?”

He sighed, deciding to prepare you. “Pop’s filled the second division commander seat, actually.”

“What?” you hissed. “You’re joking.”

“I’m not.”

“With who?” you demanded. You refused to believe him. “I thought nobody wanted it.”

“It’s a new guy.”

“A new guy?” you scoffed. “You’re pulling my leg, Marco. It’s not funny.”

Marco looked nervous talking about it. “Let’s go see Pops, alright? He’ll explain.”

You scowled, and your stomach clenched in anticipation. “Yeah, let’s go. I have some words to say to him.”

Marco wrapped his arms around your torso and extended his phoenix wings. “I’m glad to see you’re still a hothead.” You could hear the teasing in your voice, but you weren’t in the mood for jokes anymore.

“Shinobi training can’t fix everything,” you grumbled. You could feel your skin getting warm, a sign you were letting your emotions get to you.

You heard a lot of low whispers and mumbling, but you paid the new recruits no mind as you stormed across Moby Dick. Your father wasn’t on the deck, so you continued on to the command room.

“DAD!” you screamed, and you could see some of the newer members slink away from you in fear. A part of you felt some pride to have such an impact, but you were too pissed to revel in it.

You slammed the command room door open to find your father speaking with another man you didn’t recognize, but you paid the guest no mind. You were too focused on settling the score of the second division commander seat.

Whitebeard smiled at you. “Y/N! You’re-”

“You bastard!” you shrieked. You pulled out a kunai, pointing it at your old man. “You promised!”

The unknown man threw a knife and knocked the kunai out of your hand, and you turned to glare at him. He was shirtless and was wearing an obnoxious orange hat, and he was returning your gaze with a look of equal irritation.

“Stay out of this, newbie,” you hissed at the man.

You reached into your pouch to grab another kunai, but he lunged at you, grabbing your wrist to stop you.

“I don’t know who you are,” the man said in a low, dangerous voice. “But you have no right attacking Pops the moment you get on our ship.”

“Stay out of my affairs,” you snarled.

You turned your wrist to lava rocks to burn his hand, but at first the man didn’t react. You frowned, turning up the heat to liquidize your arm into magma, and finally the man pulled away in pain. He looked down at his hand in shock, as if he wasn’t expecting to be burned. You couldn’t blame him. It’s not everyday someone’s skin turns into boiling liquid.

Whitebeard laughed loud and hearty, breaking the tension between you and the man, and you refocused your anger back to your father.

“Never a dull moment with you around, kid! It’s great to have you back,” he laughed, and your face flushed with anger.

“You promised me a commander position when I got back,” you yelled at him. “Who the hell did you give it to instead?”

Whitebeard laughed even harder. “That would be Ace.”

“Who the hell is Ace?” you hissed.

The shirtless man raised his hand. “Uh-”

“I said stay out of my affairs!” You could feel steam coming off your head. Sometimes that happened when you got too angry.

The man pointed at himself. “Me. I’m Ace.”

You could feel your insides turning hot, lava coursing through your veins.

“You’re joking,” you said. You glanced at your father, who was still smirking at the two of you. “He’s joking, right?”

You father raised his eyebrows, his gaze darting between the two of you, but he said nothing.

“Portgas D. Ace,” the man said, holding out a hand to you. You rolled your eyes and turned away from him, facing your father.

“This guy?'' Your voice was full of skepticism.

“Hey!” Ace yelled from behind you. “Don’t underestimate me!”

“I could squash you like a bug,” you shot back, still refusing to look at him. “Dad-”

“The decision was made with good reason, my girl,” Whitebeard said. “You’ll be working alongside him closely in the second division.”

“No, I won’t,” you laughed, rolling your eyes at his suggestion.

“Yes, you will.” You could hear the seriousness in your father’s voice, the warning of consequences thick in his tone.

You decided it was best to not outright defy him, and you switched your tactic from stubborness to logic.

“I’ve always been under Marco,” you reasoned.

“You’ll be better suited in the second division now.” You could feel Ace smirking behind you, and you resisted the urge to turn around and punch his teeth out.

“Let me get this straight,” you said, trying to keep a level voice. “You give my commander position away and then tell me I have to work under the guy who took it from me?”

Ace laughed. “The second division position has been open for-”

You flicked a volcanic rock back at him, and he yelped in pain.

“Marco is a fire user like me,” you worked to plead your case further. “And I know him. I would work better under him.”

“The first division is a medical division now,” your father explained. You could see you were testing his patience, but you didn’t care. “Your talents are better served on the offensive front, which Ace leads.”

“But-”

“Plus,” your father added, cutting you off. “Ace is a fire user as well.”

You felt warmth spring up behind you, but you refused to give Ace the satisfaction of being acknowledged.

“Dad-”

“I’m not wavering on this decision,” he said with finality.

You felt your father’s conqueror’s haki spread out over the ship, and you knew that you had lost the argument. You could hear Ace stumble slightly behind you, and you resisted the urge to argue even further over the man’s weakness. At this point it would only make your father angry, even if you were right.

“Fine, fine,” you sighed, giving up. There’d be plenty of time to talk with him about the position and prove your worth. “Can we at least have a party?”

Whitebeard’s overwhelming presence disappeared and his jolly laugh returned in an instant, already forgetting your alls squabble. He stood up, wrapping you in a comforting embrace, leading you past Ace and out onto the deck.

“My daughter has returned home!” he shouted, and the crew cheered. “Prepare a feast!”

At least the party life on the Moby Dick hadn’t changed at all. You could still beat just about anyone in a drinking contest, and by halfway through the night, your mind was cloudy from the alcohol.

You took a step away from the party and the fun to get a moment alone with the stars. You took a drink of the ale in your tankard, staring up at the million lights in the sky and thinking about how different the constellations looked during your time in Wano. You were so close to that country and those people, yet so far.

“I think we got off on the wrong foot,” a male voice said behind you, startling you from your thoughts.

You glanced back to find Portgas D. Ace walking towards you, looking up at the night sky. He was attempting to be casual about the whole thing, as if he had randomly found you here, but you could tell that he had most likely searched you out on purpose.

You rolled your eyes and turned away from him. He wasn’t even worth giving the time of day. He hadn’t done anything to prove he was anything special yet.

But Ace obviously wasn’t willing to give up that easily, because he came and stood directly next to you. His eyes were still on the sky, just like yours were.

“I just feel like since we’re going to be working together, we should probably get to know each other a little better,” he said.

You thought of plenty of snarky responses, but said none of them. You knew the silent treatment would be the best way to shut him down. Portgas D. Ace was not your friend. You wanted nothing to do with him.

“Are you happy to be back on the ship?”

Still nothing came out of your mouth. You didn’t even look his way, you simply took another long drink. But you could see him starting to pout. It was only a matter of time before he gave up and returned to the party. You just had to keep your mouth shut.

“All the guys said you had a pretty smoking ability. But I dunno, I think my fire ability is pretty hot.”

You scoff at that. “I’m hotter,” you shot back.

Damn him. He could rile you up, and he knew exactly how to. You could see him smirk in the corner of your eye, and you cursed yourself for being so easy to manipulate.

“That’s what they all said too,” he said quietly, a smile still lingering on his face.

You turned to look at him, your face full of frustration. “What do you want?”

He seemed surprised by your question. “What do you mean?”

“Why are you speaking to me?” you demanded. “What do you want?”

“Wh-No-I just-” Ace stammered, trying to find his words.

You stared at him, your scowl deepening every time he started his sentence over.

“You’re Whitebeard’s daughter, aren’t you?” he finally asked.

“Yeah. And?”

“I’ve just heard a lot about you,” he said.

“And?”

“I dunno,” he said. “You intrigued me.”

You scowled at him. “What the hell does that mean?”

“I dunno!” He let out an exasperated sigh, turning his gaze to the stars. “You were just this larger than life story people always told since I got on this ship. Everyone always had something to say about you. I guess I just wanted to know how much of it was true.”

“All of it is true,” you said.

Ace let out a laugh, and then clamped his hand over his mouth to stop himself. “I really hope not.”

Your eye twitched, and you could feel your skin starting to tingle. “If people are lying about me, they’ll pay for it.”

“Marco talked about you like you were this sweet little kid.”

“Marco’s delusional.”

Ace laughed again, and this time he didn’t stop himself. You found yourself smiling along with him.

“He definitely sees the best in people,” Ace said.

You shot him a look. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

You could see Ace tense. “Oh, nothing! I-”

You let out joyous rings of laughter now, and you see Ace give a strained smile, mostly unsure of how to react to your sudden friendliness.

“You’re funny, Portgas D. Ace.” You go to take another sip of alcohol, just to find your cup empty. You frowned at it, and turned to go find more booze.

“I’ll get it,” Ace offered, holding out his hand to take your cup. “I’m empty too.”

You nod, handing it off to him. The party was so loud anyway. You preferred the quiet atmosphere this late in the night. He strode away, and you watched him go, your father’s emblem displayed proudly on his back. He still wasn’t anything special, but at least he wasn’t scared of you like half of the crew.

You hadn’t realized how much alcohol you had drank throughout the night until you were alone, and suddenly the world was spinning. You laid down on the deck to get your bearings, and then found yourself stuck there.

When Ace came back, he found you sprawled out, staring upwards.

“You okay?” he asked. He bent down to look at you, his face obscuring part of the sky.

You giggled. “Your freckles look like stars.”

“You’re drunk.”

“No you’re drunk.”

He chuckled. “Your insults get worse as the night goes on.”

You stuck your tongue out at him, and then patted the deck next to you. “Come lay down.”

He obliged, his head resting next to yours. “What are we looking for?” he questioned.

“Shhhh!” you hissed, pressing a finger to his mouth. “You’ll scare them away.”

You felt his lips turn upward against your finger, but he was quieter when he spoke.

“What are we looking for?” he whispered.

“Shooting stars!” you whispered back.

“Oh,” Ace whispered. “Of course.”

“Tell me when you find one,” you said quietly. “I’m going to rest my eyes for a minute.”

You’re not sure if he ever found one. You were asleep before he responded.

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