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writersdrug · 1 month ago

Note

Bartender Simon, who cuts of a drunk costumer. The costumer is angry and begins insulting Simon, particularly his looks. It doesn't bother Simon but how does Waitress!Reader react?

Alas... the much-awaited ktih

Warnings: making out, groping, dry-humping

It was only seven pm, and Cole was already drunk. Simon knew this would happen - it usually does, at least every Friday night. He comes in, drinks for a solid two hours, until Simon finally has to cut him off and steer him in the direction of his apartment. The man at least lets him add twenty percent auto gratuity if he has to be sent home like that - and, more often than not, it's every week.

Today, however, is a different story.

Cole had come in at four, right when the pub opened. He gave you his usual, tight-lipped smile, making his way to the seat he took every Friday evening. Simon was already pouring his beer by the time he removed his coat. The conversation continues (mostly one-sided on Cole's part), as does the night, and he never ceases to tip the beers back - rattling on about how much money he makes, only getting louder when a group of women walks by.

Around nine at night is when he began to get drunk enough that the numbers on his tab begin to blend together. "A'aight- 'nother one for good fortune." He smacks his empty glass against the bartop, making you jump slightly as you did your tips at the end of the.

"Not tonight." Simon says, hovering over the POS and punching buttons on the screen. "You got 'nuff for good fortune. You can pick it back up next week."

"Bahhh, c'mon - I'll pay double." Cole slurs, leaning over the bar.

"What's your wife's name?" Simon asks, turning back around and leaning against the liquor shelf.

"... Sharon."

"Ya not even married, Cole."

He laughs, eyes glassy as he smacks the bartop and wheezes. "Tha's good! Real good- ya got me. Can't keep a woman 'f I tried."

Simon doesn't comment. He slides Cole's receipt across the bar, before promptly turning back and grabbing a glass.

Cole sighs, crumpling the receipt in his fist. "Y' don't want business?"

"Don't want you gettin' lost findin' your Uber." Simon replies, polishing a glass.

"Y'know..." Cole leans back in his seat, very adamantly refusing to leave, "I know you're strugglin' t' bring in the money with... whatever ya got goin' on behind the mask."

Maybe when he was a lieutenant, constantly dealing with jabs and stabs towards his ego, it would have gotten to him. But Simon just huffs in annoyance. "This what you resort to when you can't get a beer?"

"Defensive much?" Cole bites back. "You could use the money to fix y'r fuckin' face. Should stop bein' such a cunt n' worryin' 'bout me like you're my mum."

"Hardly - your mom probably wishes she'd swallowed you instead."

Simon nearly drops the glass - it takes him a moment to realize that you had spoken, and another one to process just what exactly you had said. He turns around to find you, staring Cole down with the most disgusted, angry expression he's ever seen you display. He's speechless - mostly because he didn't know you had an arsenal of insults, ready to fire off like this.

Cole chuckles drunkenly, turning in his seat to face you from down the bar. "Don' like it when I insult y'r bank account, do ya?"

"Aren't you supposed to be dumpster diving or something?" You snap, getting up out of your seat - Simon's never seen such a look in your eyes, and he quickly steps out from behind the bar to jog over to you. He places a hand on your shoulder, but you don't back down.

"You realize who you're talkin' to, little girl?"

"Draco Malfoy if he'd gone into British Parliament."

"Oi-" Simon snaps, fingers digging into your shoulder - surprisingly, you swat his hand away. You're fuming at this overgrown cabbage, running his mouth like he actually means something to anyone in this pub.

Cole purses his lips; your insults are getting to him. "You gonna do somethin' with this chick?" he asks Simon - who nearly blows a cap, but you beat him to it.

"Y'know, maybe you should spend your money on fixing those fucking teeth - because I see they're still social distancing - instead of wasting our time here, you grey, fucking sprinkle on a rainbow cupcake-"

"Hey- stairwell. Go." Simon gives you a gentle shove towards the stairs, and you throw your hands up and storm off. He stares after you, wide-eyed and tense, watching as you disappear behind the stairwell door. He's quickly growing hard, concerningly, after witnessing you fire off at Cole with a loaded gun full of wit and anger - it was quite possibly the most attractive thing he's seen you do.

Cole huffs, breaking Simon's focus. "Women - sticking their noses where they don't belong." he looks at him, expecting the bartender to agree.

Simon's holding back the urge to drive his fist into the man's skull. He grabs Cole's jacket from the back of the chair and shoves it into his chest so hard he nearly falls from his seat. "If you're not gone in the next ten minutes, Soap 'n I will make you leave, you understand?" he doesn't even wait for a reply, turning on his heel and stalking towards the stairwell, boots thudding heavily against the ground.

He's got bigger priorities at the moment.

You're standing in the stairwell, chewing the edge of your sweater as you stare at the dustpan and broom. Simon can surely fight his own battles - he didn't seem irritated in the slightest by Cole, why did you step in? Simon isn't yours (unfortunately), you don't need to defend him. You don't have the right to defend him other than the fact that he's your coworker. Manager. And you were definitely doing it based on other, unspoken reasons. It was obvious. Is it obvious to him? Forget possibly losing your job, is he going to be mad that you lost your shit like that? That you put your foot where it doesn't belong? That-

The door to the stairwell swings open, and you stop your pacing. His eyes are lidded. Angry? You can't tell. He looks rather intimidating, tall and tense as the door swings shut behind him, mask bunched into his fist as he shoves it into his back pocket.

You think he's about to let you have it, to chew you out for your outburst. "Simon, I'm-"

His rough hands are around your face before you know it - right as you open your mouth to yelp in shock, he leans down and kisses you.

Your eyes force themselves shut. You don't have a chance to pull away, not with his hand cradling the back of your head. He won't let you; you don't want to. His breath fans across your face, fingers calloused yet gentle as they relax around you, and you sigh into his touch, tilting your head to let him get closer. Your arms rest against his shoulders, squeezing the muscle as you feel months of worry and anticipation melt away-

And then, as quickly as it had begun, Simon has the audacity to stop and pull his head back.

His eyes find yours, still cupping your face in his hands. He looks breathless - good. At least you know he's just as riled up as you are, now. There's a hint of pink on his cheeks, and a need for reassurance in his hazy stare. He needs to know he was right, despite the months of flirting and the little chase you've been leading him in; now that he's finally caught up, caught you in his grasp, he needs you to tell him you want this. Though he doesn't know how he'll survive if you don't.

"You ok?" He pants, brow creased with uncertainty.

You let out a noise of frustration - threading your fingers behind his neck, you pull him back down, sealing your lips against his once again.

He exhales through his nose in relief. His hands find your waist as you part your lips, letting him slip inside and explore your mouth. Your fingernails dig crescents into his skin - he lets out a rather needy-sounding groan, backing you up until you hit the wall. You whine; your tongue flicking across his lower lip sends a shiver down his spine, heat building and twisting and tangling in his gut until you break away for a moment, nipping your teeth into his lip.

His mind short-circuits; he grunts, all the blood in his head rushing south to his cock, where it's getting uncomfortably warm and tight. He grabs you underneath your ass and hoists you up, and you squeak, instinctively locking your legs around his hips. You wrap your arms around his shoulders as he kisses you feverishly, desire brewing in your stomach as he presses you into the wall, tongues and teeth clashing, the both of you unable to satisfy the ever-growing blaze. It threatens to burn up the stairwell until there's nothing left but a sweaty, naked mess.

Simon breaks away to latch onto your neck, taking the thin flesh and rolling it between his teeth You bite back a whimper, carding your fingers through his hair; he bucks his hips in response, albeit involuntarily. You can sense the knot in your pelvis tightening, underwear growing slick as you feel the size of his erection with each thrust. Even through his clothes, you can tell it would be a challenge, but you've never been one to back down.

Fingers slide under his shirt, feeling the solid wall of muscle and fat beneath - his retracts a hand and drags it up your stomach, kneading and groping your tit through your shirt, silencing your moan with another searing, wet kiss. He's grinding into you now, hips rolling, cock twitching through his pants as you lock your ankles behind his back, and fuck he's ready to strip you bare right here and fuck you against the wall, ready to get back at you for teasing him for so long, ready to listen to your cries as you take each and every rung of his piercing-

He catches himself, lips moving away from yours to kiss along your chin, all the way up to your jaw. He sighs as he stills his hips, letting his head fall against your shoulder as he leans his weight into you. You feel him relaxing, wondering if he's worried about you again, but you so desperately want this to continue where it's heading.

"I'm alright, I'm alright-"

"I know..." he mumbles, his hand sliding back to your thigh and squeezing the flesh there, fingers barely slipping past the hem of your shorts. He wants to go further, to feel the hem of your panties snap against his fingers, but he forces back the urge.

"What's wrong?" you pant, craning your neck to the side to look at him.

"'M not..." he huffs, pulling his head back and gazing down at you. "Not fuckin' you in the stairwell, dove. 'S filthy back here."

Your face heats up even more - the fact that he had to hold himself back from disheveling you right now is an unspoken compliment. "Can we take it upstairs?"

He chuckles and gently sets you down, much to your disdain. "No. Got a bar to run." He says, preening at the way you pout at that. "And I'm takin' you out, first."

"Out?"

"Yea, for lunch."

"Wh- where?"

"You decide. Monday."

Monday - that's deep-clean day. "Don't we have to be here at noon?"

He chuckles. Always worrying about losing your job. "I'll make an exception. Won't fire ya for goin' on a date with me."

Date. God, you could scream. "But what if Price-"

"If that man ever threatens your position at this pub," Simon leans down, gently grabbing your chin between his fingers, "you come to me, n' I'll knock some sense into 'im. Sound good?"

You're too starstruck to register half of what he's said. Simon Riley's just kissed you. AND admitted to wanting to fuck you. Now, he's taking you on a date on Monday. Did you have any plans? Doesn't matter. If you do, they're cancelled.

"Uh huh..." you say, absentmindedly leaning into his touch.

Looking down at you: you, you... god, can he call you his? Is that too soon? The stars in your eyes while you're staring at him, the struggle within himself to avoid both adoration and getting hard(er)... He takes another deep breath, thumb running down the blossoming hickey on your neck.

"Right." he taps your cheek softly, then goes to tuck his shirt back in from where you'd torn it from the waistband. "Go ahead n' take a minute. Come to the bar 'fore you leave."

He grabs the handle to leave, hesitating only for a moment. Both of you seem to have the same idea, sharing a hive mind with each other. You quickly move forward and he leans down as you both kiss again, slower, trying to savor this one. Honey drips from your brain into your chest, every cell in your body screaming in relief, satisfaction, and pure joy...

He breaks away again, laying a kiss to the crown of your head. You sit down on the stairs as he walks back onto the pub floor. He's still hard, and it's plain as day - but he could care less right now. He's got you just as much as you've had him. There's a lightness in his shoulders, a voice in his head that you've finally plucked free and thrown into the abyss, only to be replaced by your own being.

You're still sitting on the stairs, massaging your tits through your shirt as you try to smooth your nipples out. Your mind is racing a million miles a minute. What should I wear? Will Price be upset? Should we try to hide this? Will anyone care? Should I wear perfume or just body spray? Is work going to be weird now? He's not going to treat me differently, is he?

You sigh, biting your lip and trudging up the stairs. Your fingers run over the hickey on your neck. I need to find a whisk.

#bartender ghost #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley #ghost #ghost x reader #ghost x you #ghost cod #call of duty #cod x reader

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satoruhour · 10 months ago

Text

AY ! SPANK IT.

a/n: had to physically hold myself back from not doing any lore. i failed (for gojo’s at least). enjoy / tagging my babies @redskyvenus @suguella @satorena @screampied @jabamin @marimogf @osaemu @ryovie

wc: 3.5k

warnings: sp*nking for all (i cheated on gojo’s part but we don’t talk bout that), fem!reader, gojo is older than in the series (late 30s), semi-public oral (m! receiving), deep throating, he’s a little rough, a stranger listens in (gojo), implied multiple rounds, unprotected p -> v sex, (geto), implied multiple rounds, fingering, clit stimulation, pussy slaps, unprotected p -> v sex (nanami), you ask soft dom!toji to be rougher, implied multiple rounds, face slapping, unprotected p -> v sex (toji), n*sfw under the cut

✶ GOJO

your mind’s racing. that’s the only thing you can focus on, and maybe also the fact that gojo looks absolutely dashing in the suit he bought, taking you out for a whole day of shopping just because he can, so you got yourself a dress that goes all the way to the floor while he had another suit to add to the collection. it was so terrible, too, because you’re at utahime’s wedding dinner and all you can think about is getting to your knees to suck him off.

“need somethin’?” gojo whispers with hand clasped over yours, voice softer than usual. he’s grown much into his age, now well into his late 30s and you have to physically hold yourself back every waking hour. his way of living is a tad bit softer and tender when it comes to you.

you swallow, “i might ruin the mood.”

gojo laughs and it’s got your cunt throbbing, “nothing you say could ruin the mood, baby.”

sparing a glance towards utahime and her wife, you feel a little bad that you’re going to do what you’re going to do, but it’s only the fourth course and the band on stage is kinda shit. so you’re standing and pulling on his wrist, excusing yourself from the table of sorcerers that already have an inkling of your imminent activities; you even think you can hear nanami sigh.

“where’re we goin—” gojo’s surprised by your eagerness and the quickness in which you say shut it, navigating the second floor of the hotel and even making the effort to head to the bathroom further from the function room. he grins in recognition.

wordlessly, you’re shoving him into the men’s bathroom because you’re past your senses and you don’t care any more, walking your husband back into a stall. there’s a shocked yelp from the occupied stall beside you but you hardly give a shit, locking the door and crashing your lips against satoru’s.

“so eager,” he whispers against your lips, gasping into your mouth when you squeeze his bulge. you waste no time palming it, kissing down his jaw just for a little tease and making your bluish-black mark on his neck before you’re dropping to your knees and fumbling with his belt. you can’t look up at your husband’s piercing eyes because you know you’d cower in shame at your sex-crazed surge, but you do anyway and you only melt further into the floor.

you’re left wondering why his enemies always don’t freeze in awe when he removes his blindfold, because your cheek feels at home on his pelvis as you continue to massage his erection, a small smile spreading when his hand cradles your cheek.

“go ahead, princess,” he takes over, releasing his cock from the confines of his underwear and you’re scooching closer to him, taking his shaft in your fingers as they slowly stroke him to full hardness. gojo’s good at keeping his moans in, fixated on the baby blue nails that he paid for moving up and down, and he swears he catches a hand that goes in between your legs to rub at your clit.

that is until you’re waste no time messing up your make-up, mouth descending on his cock and gojo lets out a drawn out moan at the warmth of your mouth. it contrasts with the intense coldness of the hotel and resembles your tight cunt so well that he almost cums and you smile at the twitch you feel in your mouth.

“yeesss . . take it down your throat like a slut,” he looks at you, possibly hypnotised by how you start bobbing your head, swirling your tongue on the underside of his cock without rest. you slobber over him, gargling noises and your hand pumps the area you can’t reach and the other only draws messy circles on your clit, filling the bathroom with the obscene noises of your mouth paired with gojo’s whines and whimpers. silently, he beckons you closer and you catch his drift, both hands holding onto his thighs.

taking in a breath, you’re going all the way slowly, gently, and gojo lets you, hands cradling your head and helping you — so much so that he’s hunching over in pure pleasure, bent over and chin touching his chest from how he wanted to keep his eyes on you. your eyes never stop looking up at him, variations of mmhm’s leaving your throat and sending vibrations all throughout his length that he groans at.

“f-fuck— mouth so damn warm,” satoru chokes out, feeling a sense of pride when the corners of your eyes fill up with tears and you gag a little, but you press on because he’s trained you well. he can only focus on the gagging sounds and your nose buried in his pubes, mouth muttering out profanities. “just a little bit— s-shit . . just a lil more, baby.”

it’s not everyday the strongest sorcerer begs, drunk on feeling his tip hit the back of your throat and the dig of your nails in his thighs. your muffled moans only spur him on, another surge of amusement blooming in his chest when he sees the other person hurriedly leaving the stall next to you. gojo’s fingers bury themselves in your hair and pulls, grinning down at your melting mascara and smudged lipstick. you look like the embodiment of filthiness, tongue lolled out and eyes almost rolling back as you try to catch your breath.

“sa— satoru . .” you whine, mouth chasing his cock and manage to catch his tip, suckling and slurping up his pre-cum, “give it t’me.” that gets him grunting and swatting your hands away as he forcibly takes your chin and his cock, slapping it all over your face and you moan at the sheer girth and size of him. you let it rest against your face and your husband wishes he had his camera out to capture this. maybe next time.

“tongue.” and you’re sticking it out, and he slaps his tip along your tongue, too, clear sounds resonating throughout the restroom. outside, he hears the sink stop and with a thumb, drags your jaw to open more.

“let’s give ’im a show, shall we?”

✶ GETO

you see, you’ve always known your man to be an ass man — from noticing the way his eyes follow your figure in a bodycon dress to the special attention he gives it during cuddling, but you’re never truly prepared (you didn’t think he was more obsessed over your ass than you are) for how much he loves it when he’s always got your face buried into the pillows and your lower half propped up.

you’re on god knows what round, drool seeping into the duvet and your juices soaking the sheets and moans leaving your lips. geto’s got you in full nelson, mating press, you can’t even remember any more when the only thing you can think of is his cock easing into you.

“gone so many rounds and still need some dick in her,” he laughs and you burn from embarrassment, and yet you love it, pushing your ass back into him while his grip on your waist tightens, “don’t blame ’er — i love this fuckin’ pussy too.”

you preen at the praise, turning your head to find geto struggling between looking at your face of pleasure and your ass; he lets his desires win, memorising the cute pants and desperate furrow of your eyebrows before he reluctantly pulls his eyes away. but how could he resist — when your butt is pushed up against his pelvis so nicely, the stretch of your dripping cunt in full view and the jiggle of your ass whenever his body meets yours.

his hands leave your waist and spread your cheeks to see how his fat cock leaves and reenters you, full of your mixed cum from the previous sessions that there’s a ring of white that forms at the base of his length with each thrust. it spills all over and down his balls, down your thighs and it’s so sloppy once he starts moving, the wetness of your pussy only encouraging him further.

“pretty little doll takes my cock so well, hm?” suguru hums, fingers squeezing and releasing the fat of your ass. it only anchors him to be rougher and more precise in his thrusts, tip just kissing your cervix that has got you crying out. your head’s foggy but your grip is strong, clutching the sheets below you until your knuckles turn white. in a moment of sensitivity, your hand flies to grab at his wrist.

“sugu—” you gasp, and you meet his eyes, dark with lust while his hair falls all around him. it’s hot, he’s hot and you watch him lick his lips and smile that dizzying smile of his as he changes the pace however he likes to. one moment he’s grinding into your cunt, and the other, he’s snapping his hips roughly.

“yes, darling?” it’s taunting, just like the way he pushes down on your back to accentuate your arch, tugging your hips onto his front.

“s’good, love it, love it—!” you mewl, eyes squeezing shut from the immense pleasure and overstimulation, “feels t’good—”

there’s no answer except a resounding smack that echoes through the room and you gasp again, a choked whine leaving your mouth. you can feel heat forming on your ass and geto’s sick chuckle only makes you open your eyes again to meet him and he’s soothing the place where he spanked.

“yeah? that feel good, huh?” he coos, picking up the pace and ramming into you with the roughness of someone who’s been denied pussy for days and he spanks you again, again and again, the pain so exhilarating. geto cannot keep his eyes off you, watching, hypnotised, the way your ass moves under his hand, “just love this ass so damn much.”

geto catches your smile just as your lips part to whimper out his name and he only props one of his legs up to get deeper in you, a long groan escaping from him when you clench around him.

another smack, another one of your moans, another plea and he laughs breathlessly, cock twitching in you.

“guess i found my girl’s guilty pleasure.”

✶ NANAMI

nanami loved your pleasure. whether it was through oral or just pure sex, the way he knows that he’s making you feel good is enough for him to cum, the satisfaction of doing his job as a partner and the knowledge that you’re the only one to fall apart by his hands. that’s why he never stops until he feels like you’ve had enough, talking you through your many orgasms until you’re spent.

he chuckles lowly into your ear from behind, legs holding down your own as your body convulses from another climax that he’s brought you to. you’re squeezing so much around his fingers that he has trouble removing them, the other hand calming down your heaving stomach.

“you’re relentless, kento . .” you mumble, head slumping onto his shoulder and back, breath hitting the hair that’s at the back. your lover takes the opportunity to mark your neck, alternating between licking and sucking into the skin there. his hands always are so much larger on your body — when they wrap around your middle at events to guide you around, around your arm where you’re cooking at home together — it always sends you into hysterics.

“but you do like it, don’t you, my love?” his tone is soft, sending the hairs along your body to stand, because no matter how soft, the rasp in which he speaks with never fails to thrill you.

“i do, kento, but ’m so sensitive; not sure if you like it,” you hum, removed from your daydream when you feel his cock slap against your thigh. knowing you’re prepped for him, he doesn’t answer but only sighs into your ear when he slips in, your cum providing enough for him to slowly inch himself in.

“of c—” it’s strained, he says it through his teeth, “’course i like it, baby. i love it, even.” nanami groans when he starts to thrust up into you, drunk on the moans and whimpers you feed him. instinctively, your legs try to close but his hands are quicker, holding you open that you need to hold onto him for some sort of grounding, because it was just too. much.

“k-kento,” your voice wavers when you feel him bottom out, watching his hands wander over your sweat-filled body. he hadn’t even fully undressed from his mission duties, still wearing his watch with his trousers pulled down halfway. your pussy was just too good. “so full—!”

“y-yeah . . it is, darling girl doin’ so good f’r me,” nanami’s sounds only send shivers down your body, hands finally coming to rest along your tits. he plays with them, fingers fondling with your nipples and squeezing mindlessly while his hips give you calculated thrusts into your soaking cunt, “doing so good and taking my cock like a good girl. yeah, aren’t ya?”

you nod into his embrace but you wished he’d give some attention to your neglected clit, something that he’s been set on abusing for the past orgasms — and now he doesn’t give it any sort of attention?

“kento— mmfuck—! w-want you to,” your sentence is cut off by your own cries of swears and your boyfriend’s name until he’s turning your head so he can kiss you. devouring your sounds, he speaks against your lips.

“what is it, sweetheart?”

distracted from the kissing, you never notice the way his hands make a beeline for your core, and the first rub of you clit has got you clamping down hard around his length and he grunts.

“was it that?” and you nod again like a dumb slut, hips bucking up into his hold and you can feel his own falter, loving how warm your gummy walls were. it was disgusting; with each move of his pelvis, your juices only spurt everywhere and anywhere, dripping down right onto the sheets.

“m-more . .” you mumble, back arching and body shivering from the intensity of everything, while nanami looks between your eyes and mouth like he’s ingraining the pretty painting of ecstasy of your face into his mind. he makes sure to keep his hazel eyes locked on you, and, rewarded well when his hand comes down upon your clit in a messy slap.

“kento!” your head lols back, muscles pulled taut while your lover only smiles, and he does it again whilst his cock is endlessly pumping into you.

the slaps continue and they’re wet, lewdly wet and it makes you even more flustered and embarrassed that you’re hiding your face into his neck. each slap is like a hit to your head, making you dizzy and giddy and you want nothing more than to cream all over his cock.

they’re harsher — a strength nanami never liked to execute on you but seeing your body convulse like this, seeing your eyes blown wide and jaw slack only makes his spanks against your pussy rougher until you’ve gone silent.

“g’nna cum like this? filthy girl . . simply from my spanks?” he laughs into your hair, knowing to angle his hips just right and that’s got you speaking his name like a mantra, “i’ll definitely need to see my darling girl so ruined again.”

✶ TOJI

“you want me to be . . what?”

contrary to popular belief, toji has always (mostly) been gentle with you in bed. having come from a rough past, he’s only ever treated you like glass, entirely different from the way he was treated as a child. he’s done that to his ex-wife, as well, and now to you, thinking that if he’d ever do anything wrong, you’d leave him.

“i want you to be rougher . . toji,” it’s not something that warrants the use of his first name when a pet name is more than enough, but you both know this stems from something he’s afraid of and you’re only showing your concern through using his given name. “i can take it.”

toji coos at your big girl words, something he adores even before you’ve gotten in a relationship with him and he brings you closer with a toned arm around your waist, “are ya sure?”

and like always he’s making sure you’re okay with everything that he’s done so far, checking up on you, taking breaks in between, so you work your magic. with one hand on his forearm and one more on his face, you’re asking for more, more, more, even as he’s buried deep in you, pussy still struggling to take him because he’s just so big.

“want more, do ya?” he grunts, both hands holding you by the ankle while he thrusts into you with the force of an animal, of many pleas of you wanting more has landed you in this position — cum spilling out of you, sheets filled with your sweat and your clit feeling sore as hell — and you love every second of it. you nod pathetically, eyes welling up with tears from just how good his dick game was and when he laughs, you swear you feel your pussy flutter.

“c’mon, s-shiiit . . watch me fuck this pussy,” he manages to get out, a mix between a groan and grunt that speech is a little distorted, but you prop yourself up anyway, yelping when his hands caress down your legs to your knees and pushes. you end up with your knees to your chest and a front seat view of his cock moving in and out of you, a clear sheen of slick along his shaft from your combined juices.

without warning, he’s spitting onto your clit, a long string of saliva that hangs from his mouth until it finally reaches your core and you moan from obscene action. your hips only wiggle closer to him, chasing that same thrill. “again.”

he lets out a laugh in disbelief, “again? dirty little slut.” and he wraps his fingers around your chin even as you continue to pant and mewl, further emphasising his overpowering strength over yours and drawing your eyes from the hypnotising sight in front of you to meet his dark green ones that are filled with desire.

your mind is overwhelmed with everything, from the fullness of his throbbing cock in you to the feeling of your knees digging into your clavicle. he doesn’t even need to open your mouth for you before he’s gathering another ball of saliva and spitting it into your mouth.

“swallow,” and you do so obediently, chest heaving in anticipation while your neediness only prompts a sly grin out of toji. all the while, his hips are still moving, sending you into oblivion with you mumbling that you want even more and toji’s set out to give you something that he remembers you mentioning on a random day to your girlfriends on call.

with the same hand around your chin, he’s giving your cheek a light slap, heat already blooming from the fat of your cheek from the roughness of his hands. and he halts — he’s afraid you’ll think he hates you but all you do is clench tighter around him while a cockdrunk smile spreads across your face.

“like it— love that, toij . .” you giggle, seemingly confused about why his thrusts stop but he wastes no time resuming his pace when he sees your eyes begging for release, groaning out at the freeness he feels upon listening to you. he loves watching your pussy take him, cum gushing everywhere, but with his new discovery, he’s too fixated one seeing that look on your face again.

so he interrupts your never-ending moans with another slap and that only garners another tightening of your cunt, biting your lip with a small grin.

“like it when i’m rough with ya, huh?” toji laughs, holding your chin and slapping, playing with your lips and slapping and each time you give him what he wants — a broken moan or a call out for him, spurring his hips on until all that’s left of the room is the smell of sex and the lewd slapping of skin. “never knew my angel girl was such a cock slut . . i like her like this too, fuck!”

“always been like this,” you giggle, pulling him in just to tease him as your lips leave hot breaths on his, “just needed the right man to get it out of me, right?”

“that’s right, baby,” toji returns your cheeky smile, before a hand lands another slap on your face and you’re sent over the edge, body trembling under him and pussy spilling all over him. you’re clenching so hard that he can’t move, but like always, your lover never forgets to talk you through it.

“thaat’s it, cream all over my cock, doll,” and he grabs your face lightly again, soothing the area on your cheeks with a small grin.

“at least i know what she likes now . . and i’ll be sure to deliver.”

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gor3-hound · 6 months ago

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LET SLEEPING DOGS LIE - JOEL MILLER

ft. joel miller x puppy hybrid!reader

a/n: i'm actually very proud of this fic ngl to you guys. been wanting to write for tlou for the LONGEST time and... you know i had to make my debut w joel :3 first time trying to dive into writing more than just smut, so lemme know what you think !! rbs and feedback always appreciated !! thank you @ama-szn for betaing x

cw: 18+ content, brief mention of sarah and guilt, grinding, p in v, creampie, grinding, slight cockwarming, praise, puppy gets used a lot... joel being snappy and a mild asshole at times, tail play???

word count: 4.1k words

Now, Joel isn't always the smartest guy around. He has a tendency to get a little blunt, to put it nicely, and he isn't the type to do charity work. Being nice has never done him any favours, so he sees no point in acting all buddy-buddy just for the hell of it.

In saying that, he's starting to think he has a problem collecting strays. It started with Ellie, and now he's starting to see a habit forming when he comes across you. By all accounts, he should have left you in the corner of that beat up store. You'd been a good enough distraction to the Clickers with your incessant whining that Joel could have snuck by undetected.

Well, like he said, he's got a stray problem — and it's hardly good manners to leave a girl in trouble when he can help out. He aims his pistol, frowns as you flinch at the sounds of the shots as he takes them down. Lucky for the both of you, there's only two of them, but he still uses way more ammo than he'd like.

Joel has to double take when he gets a good look at you, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water as he crouches in front of you. He has half a mind to put a bullet through your skull, but something about the way you look has him hesitating. You're a cute enough girl, a little scruffy looking, maybe, but cute nonetheless. That isn't what has him staring at you like you're some kind of exhibit, though.

"You got... are those fuckin' ears, kid?" He tries to keep his voice low, not only 'cause you're shaking so hard you're practically vibrating, but he doesn't want to find out if those Clickers had any buddies nearby. He tenses up slightly when he notices movement behind you, his brows furrowing as he squints to get a closer look. "Don't tell me that's a tail you're hidin' back there."

Your ears perk up slightly at the sound of his voice, your eyes flicking over his face as your whines die down. You lift the tail, showing off the dirt-ridden, matted fur before letting it flop to the floor once again, tilting your head to the side.

"I'll be damned... Now I'm seein' things." Joel is almost sure that you're a hallucination, or maybe he's finally snapped. He reaches out, pokes the tip of your right ear. It's hard for him to stop himself from frowning when the fur is soft and warm underneath his fingertips, the thing twitching under his touch. They sure don't seem fake. He isn't seeing things, you're real and you're sitting right in front of him. "Can you talk, girl? I'm startin' to feel like a crazy old man, here.”

You blink at him slowly for a moment, like you have to think hard about his words. You nod your head softly, your eyes not straying from him. Your voice is quiet when you reply, breathless and shaky. “Y-yeah… I can talk.”

"Well. That's somethin’.” Joel lets out a breath he didn’t realize he'd been holding in. There's a moment of relief that washes over him in a wave. At least he isn't going completely insane, unless he's hallucinating your voice, too. "We gotta get movin', girl. The gunshots would've gotten every infected for miles gatherin' round, we don't have much time before they come sniffin' around here to see what's goin’ on.”

You nod once again, pushing yourself to your feet. He can see your features a little better now, and he tries not to let his eyes linger on that tail of yours for too long.

You don't seem like much of a talker, but that's not necessarily a bad thing. At least you won't go yapping at him when he's gotta concentrate. It wouldn't do either of you any good if he went and got killed because you couldn't keep your trap shut. You're probably the quietest stray he's managed to pick up. Ellie can talk for hours when she gets going, which...is most of the time, if he's being honest. You're more cautious than she ever was, though, watching him carefully as he stands and takes a look around the room to gather supplies.

Joel checks back on you, not missing the way you're shivering. He frowns, taking off his jacket before holding it out to you. "Here, put this on.”

You don't take the jacket, or so much as answer him. His frown deepens, and he lets out a frustrated sigh, pulling the jacker over your shoulders. “It's just a damn jacket. It won't kill ya.”

The way you stare at him is starting to get unnerving, so he turns away from you to continue throwing anything of use into his backpack. Store's already been raided, though, so he seems to be left with the scraps. Just his luck — scraps and strays. All he ever seems to get.

“Thanks.” You end up saying softly after a moment, and when Joel looks back at you again, that little tail is wagging and you're wearing his jacket properly. He catches himself smiling, so he's quick to turn away, grabbing the map from his backpack before zipping it up. He's always had a thing for pretty girls in his clothes, but he's not gonna admit that.

“Don't mention it, kid.”

˗ˏˋ ☆ ˎˊ˗

It's been about a week since Joel first saw you, and he's doing his best to keep his distance. You seem to settle in fairly nicely in Jackson — or, at the very lease, you fit in well enough with Ellie. Joel's having more than enough conflicting feelings around you to last a lifetime, and you're just a pup. You're already having to adjust to a new environment, you don't need someone like him confusing things.

That doesn't mean he can't watch you from afar, though. He's not sure he'd be able to stop himself if he tried. He can't help but watch as you and Ellie play together, noting how much brighter and happier you look since that day he saved you. Your tail wags so fast it's a blur behind you, your fur soft and fluffy now that it's been washed and brushed out.

Joel likes you more than he'd care to admit. He's already got enough people to worry about, between Tommy and Ellie, and everyone else in the damn community. He doesn't need to add you to that list.

Problem is, Ellie's gotten to know Joel, and she still hasn't grown out of being a little shit. As soon as she catches him sitting a little ways away from where she's playing with you, she decides it'd be real funny to throw the stick right at him. Joel barely has the time to catch the thing before you're on him, practically tackling in an attempt to get it from him.

“Alright… alright.” His tone comes out a little harsher than intended, and he can't help but feel bad as you shrink back, those fluffy ears pressing down against your head. Your tail stopped wagging, too, and you're giving him that kicked dog look. Makes him feel like a monster.

“Shit, I didn't mean-” He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose after he sets the stick down, patting his lap for you to come closer again. He reaches out, scratching the base of one of your ears with a small smile. “You're alright, girl. Just… easy, yeah? No need to jump all over me.”

That seems to placate you enough, and all seems to be forgiven. You nod and lean into his touch, that cute tail of yours picking up tenfold. There's something oddly soothing about petting you, so he decides to indulge you a little, leaning back against the porch railings as he sits on the steps.

It isn't until he notices your droopy eyes and the way you're slowly inching closer to him, practically curled up on his lap, that he realizes the sun is setting, and he wasted most of the day with you. He can't bring himself to mind.

˗ˏˋ ☆ ˎˊ˗

What is it they say about stray dogs? You feed them once, and they're yours? Joel can't recall, but he's sure he's somehow managed to adopt a little pup with how you cling to him. He tried locking you out of his room one night, and he couldn't sleep with the way you clawed at the door, whining and whimpering to be let in.

You sleep with him now, and he can't say he dislikes the warmth your body brings when he curls up with you every night.

He's got his arm curled around your waist, that fluffy tail of yours resting between his legs and still somehow wagging as he spoons you. He can't help but rub little circles into your stomach with his thumb, his nose pressed against the nape of your neck. For a moment, he finds himself wondering how receptive you'd be if he started kissing the skin there, letting his breath ghost the spot where your baby hairs rest.

That's a dangerous line of thinking, one that he quickly snaps out of. He lets out a sigh, closing his eyes to try and get some rest. You must sense that he's tense, cause you start wriggling around in his arms until you're facing him.

“Joel?” You breathe out, nuzzling his neck with your nose. He can feel your breath on him, and he grits his teeth not to make an audible sound as you lick at him. It's supposed to be a comforting gesture, but it has him squirming for a whole number of reasons.

“I can feel you worryin’, pup. You ain't gotta stress about me.” He murmurs, gripping your hair gently to pull your face away from his neck. He can't focus with your tongue on him like that.

“You look sad.” You whine, pulling against the grip of his hair to keep licking at him. He knows you're just trying to cheer him up, but it's really not helping the way his dick is starting to swell. It's not your fault, you don't know what you're doing to him, but he feels sick letting himself get turned on by your innocent actions.

“Just - go to fuckin’ bed, alright?” He snaps, tugging you away hard enough he knows it probably stung a little. His mouth grows dry, an apology on the tip of his tongue as he watches you retreat, eyes shining with unshed tears.

“C'mon, girl. I didn't mean that, I just…” He sighs, rubbing a hand over his face, his features etching into a frown. “Look, just… c’mere, alright? I'm sorry.”

He shifts so he's lying on his back, doing his best to make sure you don't press up against him when he's in this state. He holds an arm out, and you come rushing forward, tucking yourself against his side. You really are like a dog, always running back to him. He doesn't like how it makes him feel.

His jaw tenses as he shuts his eyes, trying to block out the guilt festering in him as he feels wet tears against the front of his shirt. He can hear your quiet sniffles, but he has no idea how to comfort you, so he doesn't.

Joel does what he does best — pretends the issue isn't there. He scratches behind your ears until you drift off, but sleep doesn't come for him that night. He spends the rest of his time staring at the ceiling, waiting for the morning sun to come through the widows before he carefully removes himself from your slumbering form.

He presses a soft kiss to the top of your head, tucking the covers around your body before he leaves the room. What he needs right now is a cold shower and a little hunting trip with Tommy to keep his mind off of things.

˗ˏˋ ☆ ˎˊ˗

The first thing he's greeted with after returning from his supply run is a sobbing pup. He didn't expect to see you so worked up — barely giving him enough time to dismount his horse before you were clinging to him, ears pulled back on your head and tail limp as you cried into his chest.

“Hey… hey, now. What's the matter, girl?” He whispers, dropping his bag to the floor so he can hug you back, one hand sliding down your back to scratch the base of your fluffy tail. “C'mon, now. I wasn't gone for that long, was I?”

“You didn't say bye.” Your words are muffled against his chest, that whiny tone still in your voice, but he can see the way your tail starts moving at his touch. Makes him feel a bit better about leaving you so suddenly. “You always say bye…”

“I didn't do it on purpose, sweetheart. You were sleepin’.” He says with a chuckle, unable to hide his amusement as you pressed against him. Felt like you were trying to become a part of him with how desperately you attempted to get closer.

“But… you were gone, and… I didn't know where you went.” You whisper, hands gripping onto his shirt tight enough that the fabric stays wrinkled when you let go in favor of hugging him.

“Doesn't mean I was leavin’ you. Just had to get some supplies.” He replies, even if it's technically a lie. It can never hurt getting some more stuff, but a group only went patrolling the day before he left. He did need the time away from you, to clear his head. He just couldn't let you know that.

“And, hey. I was thinkin’ of you the whole time. I even got you a lil’ somethin’.” He says after a moment, grabbing your shoulders to pry you off of him. He ignores the ache in his heart at your little whine in favor of unzipping his bag, holding something up and squeaking it.

Your eyes light up at the sound, and he really can't help the smile that spreads across his face at the sight. He throws the squeaky ball and watches you chase after it, laughing when you return with it in your mouth, biting down over and over to hear the noise.

“There we are. That's my girl.” He murmurs, ruffling your hair before wrapping an arm around your shoulder, squeezing you against his side. “C'mon, let's go and find Ellie. We got some catchin’ up to do, don't we?”

˗ˏˋ ☆ ˎˊ˗

Joel must be getting soft with old age. That's really the only explanation for what's going on. He's letting you sit on him like you're a damn lapdog all because you looked like you wanted a cuddle.

You look so damn cute, too. That tail of yours is going to be the death of him. Joel's heart does not flutter when you smile all prettily at him, nor does it flutter when you rub your face against his neck like you're trying to get his scent all over you.

No. Joel's heart is as cold as ice. He doesn't get warm, fuzzy feelings from cute puppy hybrids, and he certainly doesn't clear his throat to stop himself from saying something unbelievably sappy and embarrassing.

“You comfy there, darlin’? Like havin’ me take care of ya?” He murmurs, not missing the way his breath catches in his throat when you hum in agreement, licking at his skin. You don't seem to notice, so he doesn't mention it. Small mercies.

Maybe it's the whiskey, or maybe it's the way your warmth seeps into him and makes his heart race that has his brain malfunctioning, but he can't stop himself from saying what's been on his mind the past few weeks.

“You're such a pretty girl…” He whispers, nuzzling his nose against your hairline before pressing a gentle kiss there. His hands slide down to your waist, giving you a little squeeze. “So fuckin’ pretty. My pretty pup, ain't ya, sweetheart?”

That tail picks up again and he chuckles, sliding a hand down your back to scratch the base of your tail, tuning in to the steady thump, thump, thump of it slapping against his thighs. He gives your tail a little squeeze, stroking his hand over the fur.

“Ain't no hidin’ how you really feel with a tail like that.” He says with a small laugh, eyes locked onto the way your tail moves as he leans forward, pressing kisses down the side of your throat. He grins against your skin as your tail starts wagging faster, his teeth grazing your sensitive flesh.

“Yeah? Y’like that, puppy?” He coos, the hand on your tail shifting to grab your ass, giving the plump flesh a little squeeze. The feeling of it has him groaning, his cock already starting to fill out. It's been a long, long time since he's gotten laid, and he'd be lying if he said he hasn't been having some conflicting feelings surrounding you as of late.

All he gets is a whine in response, your body shifting just a little closer to him. Joel grabs your hips, pushing you down against his lap so he can grind up against you, a grunt spilling past his lips. He glances back at your tail, rutting against you with more force when he sees the steady wag, the sight of it making his cock twitch with interest.

“God. Good fuckin’ girl.” He breathes out, rocking you against him for another minute before it gets too much for him. He can feel you soaking the fabric of your shorts, and he’s starting to get a little dizzy with all the blood in his body rushing south. He’s so hard it hurts, and he can’t help himself as he tugs off your shorts and underwear in one tug, unbuttoning his jeans and yanking his boxers down just enough so he can free his length from the constricting fabric.

You’re so wet he can sink into you in one thrust, holding you steady as he buries his face in the crook of your neck, panting softly as he takes a moment to catch his bearings. He presses his lips to the skin there, trailing kisses along the column of your throat. You’re so wet and tight and warm, and it's a struggle for Joel not to blow his load early with how much you’re squeezing around him.

”Pretty, pretty girl. You’re doin’ so well.” He murmurs as he starts to thrust up into you, the sounds of your little gasps and moans making his head spin. His grip on your hips tightens so he can guide you up and down his length, helping you move with every drag of his cock. The room fills with slick sounds as he fucks up into you, his head tilting back as he lets out a breathy moan.

He leans forward to kiss you, swallowing your whimpers as he slides his tongue into your mouth. The taste of smoke and whiskey lingers between the two of you, his teeth biting down on your bottom lip to give it a little tug before he pulls away, running his tongue over his teeth. He starts to bounce you on his cock, grunting as your walls flutter around him as he pounds into you. He reaches around to grip your tail, tugging on it to encourage you to keep riding him. His fingers play with the fur there, the upper half of your tail continuing to wag where it’s free from his hold.

”Makin’ such a mess, sweetheart. Soakin’ my jeans.” He huffs, grinding his tip against your sweet spot before he pulls you up by the tail, leaving only the tip of his cock in before yanking you back down with a groan. You’re so wet you’re dripping all down his shaft, soaking his balls and making the fabric bunched up beneath them wet with arousal.

”Gonna make you cum for me, pup. Then I’m gonna fill you up. You want that, girl?” He grits out between thrusts, brows pinching together as he watches you nod eagerly. He has to bite his lip to stop himself from moaning too loudly as his words make your cunt clench around him, trying to milk him dry.

”Alright, alright. I got you, doll.” He lets go of your tail, grabbing your hips to bury himself to the hilt inside of you. He adjusts the both of you a little so he can make you grind against his pelvis while keeping him nice and deep. He rocks your hips, making you grind your clit against his happy trail, his eyes squeezing shut for a moment at the friction the movement brings.

”Shit-“ He hisses as he feels you tensing around him, your orgasm sending him over the edge right after you. His jaw clenches as he shoots ropes of cum deep inside of you, his body slumping against the couch when he’s left spent and twitching inside your needy cunt.

”Just…” He starts after a moment, hands moving to rub up and down your back gently, coaxing you to lean against him. “Stay like this for me, yeah? You did good, pup. Such a good girl.”

He relaxes when you snuggle up to him, his softening cock nestled deep inside of you. There’s something oddly comforting about it, and it’s not long before he’s got his face buried in the crook of your neck, slowly dozing off as he runs his fingers through the fur on your tail. He thinks he could get used to this. He’s really starting to like having you around.

˗ˏˋ ☆ ˎˊ˗

Joel's gotten into the habit of leaving you with Ellie when he has to go on those long patrols. He's never sure if he's gonna make it back, and there's no one in the world he trusts with you more than Ellie. He knows if something went wrong, the two of you would look after eachother, and that's enough to lessen the gnawing anxiety building in his chest whenever he has to leave.

Last thing he expects to see when he pushes open the door to his room is you and Ellie sleeping all curled up on his bed. It catches him off guard for a moment, but it's not long before a small smile breaks its way onto his face. He brushes some hair out of Ellie's eyes and leans down to press a kiss to your forehead, giving you a small scratch behind the ears.

He sneaks his way out of the room, settling himself on the couch. He knows his back’s gonna be protesting the sleeping arrangement, especially after slumming in the past few days on the ground, but he can't find it in himself to care. He curls up awkwardly, letting out a grunt when his too-big frame can't fit fully on the couch.

Despite his discomfort, he feels content for the first time in a long while. He hasn't felt this kind of happiness since Sarah. For once, the thought that he could be happy without her, no matter how much he mourns her, doesn't fill him with dread. The guilt is still there, the thoughts of 'what if', but he lets himself feel them. He knows they're never gonna leave him, and there's no point trying to force them away.

He never wants to forget Sarah, to replace her. There's always gonna be a massive space in his heart that's taken up by her, and there's no one that's gonna change that. But for once, he thinks he's happy with the little family he's got. The strays he's collected. He knows he can honor her memory by doing his best to survive, act like a dad she could've been real proud of.

Joel isn't a very religious man, but he knows he'll see his daughter again, one day. He cries himself to sleep that night, but for once the sobs that rack his body aren't filled with dread. It isn't him giving up, sitting around feeling sorry for himself.

They're tears of exhaustion, yes. But also relief. Hope. He can start again, live his life how he should've been these past few years. Really live, instead of just forcing himself to keep pushing through. Not just for you, but for Ellie. Tommy, too.

His family.

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller smut

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macabr3-barbi3 · 7 months ago

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dream a little dream (of me) - chapter 3

https://archiveofourown.org/works/54459367/chapters/140496796

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 4

You were bound to break a term of the deal eventually, right?

we've hit chapter 3! I got a huge influx of people interested and loving this story and I finally got the inspiration and drive to bang the next chapter out for everyone 🤭 there's going to be more coming, I do as the brain commands lol

A big shoutout to @fraugwinska for being like my number 1 hype person on this fic, you are a godsend 💕

And for those who asked to be tagged when the new chapter went up! @spottypug @dennsfz @bishiglomper @ivebeenthearchersstuff

Same tags as chapter 1/2 plus a couple new ones: Dream Sex, Dreamsharing, Vaginal Sex, Cunnilingus, Rough Sex, Dreamwalking, blowjobs, 'punishment' wink wink, minor injuries, let me know if I missed anything lol

I love comments and feedback, I would love to know what you think ❤️ enjoy!

The shock on Husk’s face at seeing you inside Alastor’s room when the door flies open a few days after the camping trip is matched only by yours- the horror you’re sure is written in your expression at the pool of blood accumulating under Alastor’s body where Angel Dust is supporting him with an arm around his waist, a smoking gash across his middle.

“The fuck are you doing in here?”

“What the fuck happened?”

You speak at the same time, voices overlapping as Husk shoves the door to the room further open to make room for Angel to drag Alastor inside. He’s also coated in blood down one side, likely having been supporting Alastor’s weight from the other side to drag him up the stairs.

Alastor’s eyes are clenched shut, smile more like a grimace as he snarls at Angel Dust trying to get his feet underneath himself. “I do not need any assistance, spider, release me-”

“Sure, Smiles, tell me all about it. Ya can’t even fuckin’ stand up without ya gangly ass legs collapsin’, how else were we supposed to get ya here?” Angel has also just noticed your presence in the room as you rush over, pleased smirk taking over his features. “I fuckin’ told you there was somethin’ goin’ on with them, Husk!”

“Shut the hell up, Angel,” Husk mutters, grabbing Alastor by the ankles and helping the other demon get him to the bed, despite Alastor fighting like a wild cat the whole time. You follow closely, hovering anxiously next to the mattress. They drop him unceremoniously, causing him to hiss in pain before the wound starts gushing again. “You,” Husk says, fluffy finger pointed in your face. “You stay here with him. Make sure he doesn’t fuckin’ bleed out or anything. Angel, you go tell Charlie and Vaggie what happened. I’ll get the med kit.”

“Wait, Husk” you say as he and Angel both step away, and there’s a hard grip on your wrist from Alastor when you start to follow them. “Just one sec,” you tell the demon- a great idea, with how known he was for his patience and understanding- and pull out of his grasp, hurrying after the other two. You catch Husk at the door, Angel taking off to find Charlie. “What happened to him?”

“Got into it with Vox, what else? Those fuckin’ overlord meetings are just trouble waitin’ to happen if you ask me, never would’ve caught my ass at one of them.” He runs a frustrated hand down his face. “We couldn’t get much out of his besides that, figured it would be best to get him to his room before anyone else saw him stumblin’ around the lobby.”

“Fuck.” You glance over at him, splayed across the mattress, an arm over his eyes. “Can’t he heal on his own? I thought regeneration was all the rage down here.”

“He’s been fucked since that battle with Adam- angelic steel right to the chest, did something to his body and he doesn’t heal as quick anymore. Some stitches should get him right for at least a little while.” A dark eye watches you from Husk’s peripheral. “I don’t know what you’re doing gettin’ all buddy-buddy with him but you watch yourself. We’re not all fuckin’ stupid- somethin’s up, we saw the goddamn vampire bite on your neck after camping-”

“Are there vampires in Hell?”

“Not the goddamn point. The point is be careful and don’t fuck anyone else over in the process of whatever the hell you two’re doing.” He points back into the bedroom. “Now go stand guard or whatever you do until I can stitch him up.” Husk is off then, jogging in the opposite direction that Angel had gone. You leave the door unlocked and cracked so he can get back in when he returns and go back to Alastor’s side in the bed.

His face is sweaty, eyes still clenched shut in pain, but one of his ears perks back up when he hears you come closer. “Pay no mind to those idiots,” he mutters. “I will be perfectly fine in a matter of hours. Do not let them back in.” He waves a hand lazily, the door slamming shut with a bang.

“Yeah the smoking hole in your chest gives me a lot of confidence to that. I’m not going to stop them from helping you.” You hesitate only a second before reaching out to his shirt buttons. “Let me- you’ll need this off for Husk to stitch you up.” He’s uncharacteristically quiet as you undo the buttons and slide the shirt sideways as carefully as possible to clear some space for the cat to work. You brush against his ribs and there’s a sharp inhale, Alastor’s nostrils flaring and claws digging into the sheets.

There’s a knock at the door and when you move to go open it there’s again a hand wrapped around your wrist. “Stay,” Alastor says, looking like it pains him to say it. A strip of shadow darts across the room to open the door in your stead, Husk coming back through the frame and raising an eyebrow at the sight of you still seated beside the demon.

“Charlie and Vaggie know what happened and will check on you tomorrow. Angel went to shower. Let’s get this fuckin’ over with.” He settles on the other side of you, and Alastor releases his grip on your hand to clench them into the bedsheets as Husk starts to drag the needle through his skin.

A good bit of swear words and a loosely wrapped bandage later, Alastor is patched up and passed out on his mattress. “Where did you learn to do stitches?”

“I don’t know, not really. Winged it. Just knew he wouldn’ want anyone else to see him like he is now. Vulnerable; weak. Benefit to him to have me under his thumb, I can’t run my fuckin’ mouth or use it against him.” He eyes you. “I assume you have no problem stayin’ to monitor him? With the stitches he should be good to go by mornin’ but you’ll want to watch him through the night.”

You could revive your old sleep habits and keep awake through one evening. “Yeah, I can stay. And Husk, it’s really not what you’re thinking-”

“Don’t care. Not my business. Make sure he doesn’t die- who fuckin’ knows what happens to my soul if that happens.” Husk gathers his materials and leaves the room, making sure to close and lock the door behind him.

You wander the room for a while trying to find a way to entertain yourself. He only has a couple books in the room- ones you’ve already read before- and despite your interest in the bayou dimension you don’t want to wander too far away from him. Eventually you pick a book and drag the armchair over to the bed, settling in and keeping an eye on the movements of his chest. He seems to be doing well, despite being weak and injured, no blood yet seeping through the bandages on his chest.

You do so well for a while without getting tired before the siren song of sleep starts to pull at your eyelids. You combat it as best you can- you pace the room, do push ups and jumping jacks, try counting backwards from one thousand. It doesn’t help, and you find yourself curled up in the armchair next to the bed, eyes drifting shut and not opening again.

When the world of Alastor’s dreams comes to fruition, you’re once again just in his bedroom, the only difference being a slightly darker tone to the light. His eyebrows raise when he sees you. “Well! Fancy meeting you here, darling.”

“I’m sorry, I was trying to stay awake out there to keep an eye on you-”

He waves you down. “No worries, dear. I told you before the stitches that I would be fine, that remains true. I cannot fault you for falling asleep on duty when you’ve not been accustomed to staying awake during the evenings any longer.”

A sigh of relief. “Thank goodness. I was-”

“Ah ah ah,” he interrupts, and with a shifting shadow he stands before you, trailing a finger down your throat. “That is not to say that I’m not upset with you for something else.” He circles you, eyes lidded and smile teasing. “Need I remind you again of the terms of our deal?”

“What?” Something slips around your wrist, almost like the feeling of Alastor’s fingers but softer, and you glance down to see one of his shadows. His meaning dawns on you. “Wait, Alastor, I didn’t- I’m not here on purpose, I-”

“Ahhh but that wasn’t a condition, was it? It is only allowed with my permission , dear, and I must say I can’t recall giving that to you!” Another shadow wraps itself around your thighs, buckling your legs and bringing you to your knees; he runs a hand gently along the top of your head, tipping your head up to meet his gaze. “I’m afraid discipline is in order.” With a wave of his finger Alastor’s armchair is behind him, settling into it as his tentacles make themselves at home across your body, holding you in place where you now sit on your knees, Alastor’s hand still cupped under your chin. “I think a spanking will do.”

Your body jerks where you’re held. “I’m not a child.”

“This may seem a bit tame,” he admits, expression pensive, “but sometimes the classics can be rather effective! Here’s the plan-” The tentacles shift, bending you at the waist so your chin rests nearly on Alastor’s knee. “You’ve done rather well so far so I won’t be cruel . I think ten strikes should be sufficient. You’ll count them aloud, and should you miss one we will start over. How does that sound fair?”

“Alastor-”

The first strike is over your clothing, Alastor cocking his head when you try to move away from the faint sting of it. “Surely you know how to count, dearest.” Your clothes seem to melt off your body, goosebumps erupting on your skin at the chill in the air. When you don’t respond he sighs, his smile almost condescending. “Oh well; I suppose it can’t be helped. We begin again.”

The tentacle strikes again, a sharp snap that has you hissing through your teeth. Not knowing what else you can do, you decide to just submit- how bad can ten simple swats with a tentacle really hurt? “One,” you mutter, and Alastor’s eyes light up now that you’re willing to play his game.

He cups his hand around the back of your head, and you tilt into his palm. “Perfect. Good girl. Go ahead.”

A gentle whoosh through the air, and another blow to the soft skin of your ass. “T- two,” you say, gritting your teeth against the vague ache. It’s not terribly painful; it’s more the humiliation of it than anything else, but not being able to see it coming contributes to the sting. “Fuck!” Another that you didn’t anticipate. “Three.”

Alastor uses the light pressure of his hand to tilt your head to meet his eyes. “Perhaps I’m just old fashioned,” he says softly, “but I don’t believe ‘fuck’ is a number. Start again.”

You feel the sting of frustrated tears. “Alastor, please.”

He brushes them away with a claw. “Come now, darling, no need for that. You can count to ten, can’t you? Why, it’s easy as can be and then we can be done with this business.”

So he makes you start again- and now for a third time when you can’t stop the whine in your throat from distorting the ‘eight’ into a broken groan. The spanks hadn’t been really painful before but as the punishment continued and the same spots were struck over and over you had become sore, and every new blow stung and ached like nothing else.

And yet- maybe its the position, or the utter helplessness of what’s happening with Alastor in control but there’s that familiar burn in your core, slick arousal from your cunt slipping down your thighs and out of sight of the demon before you.

Your eyes had drifted closed at some point, neck eventually losing the strength to hold itself up and pressing into the fabric of Alastor’s trousers. When he makes a curious humming noise you let your lashes flutter back open. His eyes are dark, pupils blown and his smile dangerous as he looks down at you with lidded eyes. “You know, if you’re having such trouble counting I may have a better use for that lovely mouth of yours, darling.” A brief respite from the tentacles, at least, as he repositions you with his hands to bring your face to the erection that’s grown in his lap. “This isn’t my punishment, after all; I don’t see why I should have to suffer now. How’s this- I’ll count for you, and you keep your mouth otherwise occupied, hm?”

You don’t bother trying to speak, instead just nodding in his gentle hold. He smiles, a little softer then, another quietly uttered “good girl” before he’s undoing his pants and pulling his cock out, presenting it to you and slowly guiding it into your waiting mouth.

He’s not demanding about it, lets you take your time in getting your lips wrapped around the head, fingers brushing delicately through your hair. The position isn’t perfect, and not having use of your hands is a bit of a nuisance but you can move your head enough to take some of his length into the warm, wet cavern of your mouth. You swipe your tongue along what you can reach of the underside of him and he hisses above you, pulling you back with a soft fisting of your hair until you can only reach the tip.

“We’ll continue now, my dear. Be mindful of your teeth, please.” And he slides back in with a simultaneous strike of one of the tentacles. “One.”

Somehow the childish punishment is easier to take with Alastor’s cock in your mouth. You still jerk in the hold of the tentacles when you’re hit, but your whimpers and cries of pain are muffled, the vibrations of it serving a greater purpose now in bringing Alastor pleasure. You make it to seven before a particular hard spank jolts you forward, prick shoving harder into your mouth and hitting the back of your throat. The constriction that happens when you inadvertently gag a bit makes a harsh moan tumble out of Alastor’s mouth, his fingers tightening their grip in your hair. “Fuck-”

You pull off enough to speak, lips brushing the tip as you do. “Thought ‘fuck’ wasn’t a number.”

“Wretched, delightful thing,” he murmurs, brushing his thumb against your cheek. “You raise a valid point, but I think we’ve drawn this out long enough- you’ve learned your lesson?” A nod from you, lips once again covering him and tongue swirling around the head. “Lovely,” he sighs. “Then we’ll make this last bit quick.”

He shifts forward in the armchair, enough that he’s now fully inside of your mouth and each lazy thrust of his hips bumps the back of your throat. He gives himself time to savor the feeling of you sucking and licking at him, throat constricting each time he bottoms out, in between swats from the tentacles. “Eight. Nine. Ten.” Your hands are released from their restraints, and rather than bringing them to your throbbing clit like you desperately want to, cunt drenched and ready for something more, you instead bring them to Alastor’s lap, repositioning yourself to better choke on his length. You let your teary eyes drift up to his face, his eyes lidded where he stares down at you, smile tight and tense. “Wonderfully done, sweetheart. I need only a moment more- may I?” He fists his hands in your hair on either side of your head and you let your mouth go slack, allowing him to thrust in and back out at his own leisure.

You can feel under your hands the flexing of the muscles in his forearm and wish that he would take off his goddamn shirt- get undressed in one of these dreams, just something so you weren’t the only one exposed and vulnerable.

“Magic in dreams doesn’t count, I rather think; it seems that you can do it as well.”

You think about what Alastor had said while camping- how your pants had simply vanished with a thought, the mere desire. You’d never really tried much with your dream powers. You just showed up and tried not to be spotted whenever you were in one, or got the information you were looking for and left. It hadn’t occurred to you until Alastor had said something that you might be able to do more , to use the power for something else.

So while Alastor grows more desperate in his race to completion, fucking your mouth with renewed fervor, you concentrate on the buttons of his shirt. You don’t want to alert him to what you’re trying to do- he’d probably take offense to the fact that you aren’t as wholly engrossed in letting him use your mouth as he likes, might even start the whole punishment over again after he came. So you let your vocal chords do as they please while he ruts into the hole you’ve provided for him, soft moans and whimpers to distract him a bit.

The top button twists, and slowly, silently, pulls itself from the hole it was fastened into. A slight shift of your eyes and the second one follows.

The mere possibilities of what you could do with this information makes you moan, long and low and vibrating hard around Alastor’s cock. Already close, the sensation makes him buck his hips hard, spewing curses as he spends himself in the warm and wet heat of your mouth. You’ve hardly had a chance to swallow- the taste and feeling not awful but just a little strange- before he’s yanking you up from the floor, pulling you into his lap and crushing his lips to yours. His hands come to rest on your thighs, traveling slowly upwards until he meets the welts that his tentacles have left on your skin. You hiss into his mouth at the sting of it, and he kisses you gently while massaging the sensitive skin. You distract yourself with popping another button on his shirt, a motion that goes unnoticed by Alastor in favor of switching between kissing you and watching your face while he touches you.

The rush of it eventually slows and stops, content to just sit there together for a bit with him unaware of the 6 buttons you had managed to get undone. Unlike the other times you’ve met in his dreams you aren’t simply shoved out this time- Alastor wakes up slowly and groggily, like anyone else would, and you open your eyes at the same time. He spots you in the armchair and moves to the side, clearing up a space beside him. “Come over here, dear,” he says, and you’re helpless to disobey.

Sitting up in the armchair you become aware of two things- that the welts and likely bruises from the tentacles had carried over into real life, as did the slick arousal and throbbing need in your cunt, suddenly desperate to be filled with Alastor- not just in a dream but here, now.

You stand from the chair and to the demon’s surprise, slip your bottoms and panties off before climbing into the bed and settling yourself against his side. He turns to face you, face twisting in slight pain when the wound on his chest shifts, but he trails his fingers down the slope of your neck, over the curve of your hip, finally dipping between your legs and feeling how wet you’ve become from allowing him to be in control of you. “We may have to find a new punishment for you, dearest, if this is how you react to this method.”

“Please, Alastor,” you say, reaching a hand down to his lap and pleased to find that while he’s been spent in the dream, his erection here in the real world is eager to go again. You slip your fingers under the band of his trousers, circle them around his cock with a light squeeze. “Please, I need it- not in the dream but here, real . Please?”

His breath catches in his throat, hot exhale against your face. “I- I am injured, darling, I cannot perform as I do in my mind-”

“You don’t have to.” You’re already shifting, getting up on your knees and settling over his lap, slotting his hard, hot length against your dripping folds. “I’ll do it- you don’t have to do anything. I- I just need to cum, please?”

He cups your face in his hand like he had in the dream. “How could I possibly deny you anything?” He assists you in positioning yourself on his cock, a soft “careful, dear” as you start to sink down.

Jesus fuck. The dreams had done nothing to prepare you for the feeling in real life as you’re speared on his cock, your body making room for him with the delicious slide down until you’re seated in his lap completely. You’re full of him in every sense; your cunt stuffed, mind racing with thoughts of Alastor, vision blocked by anything but the sight of his eyes wide as he watches you take him in, his claws digging into the skin of your hips. It’s so, so much better than it is in the dreams- it’s tangible , a real memory that you can hold onto from your mind, not remnants of something in Alastor’s head. This was yours. Something he’s giving you because you asked for it, begged him for it and he obliged.

You raise up on your knees, already shaky from the slow descent, and make it halfway before Alastor shifts his hips and hits the bundle of nerves inside you. You bite back the moan that wants to escape, glaring at him halfheartedly. “I said I would do it.”

“You’re certainly taking your time, darling. Just thought I could offer some assistance.” He gives you a positively lecherous smile. “I suppose if you won’t allow me to move this should suffice.” He lets one hand slide off your hip to rub at your clit with his thumb, the other tightening its grip on you.

“I’ll- I’ll allow it,” you choke out, a little miffed that the subtle shift of his hips was enough to get him right where you needed him. You ride him gently, mindful of his injury, and the pleasure crests, so close to breaking you that your legs are cramping. “God, Alastor, please-”

“What do you need, beautiful?” You have only a moment to process the word before he’s moving, an arm wrapping around your middle and turning the pair of you over, rutting his cock into you with a speed and pressure that makes you dizzy. His smile is dazed looking down at you, watching your cunt swallow him and reveling in the wet noises that emerge from where you’re joined. “You’re so close, darling, I can feel it- your pleasure is mine. Every time you reach that peak, when you cum on my cock, it will only ever be me. ”

He shifts again, brings his knees up closer to get deeper inside of you. “Fuck, Alastor, my god-”

“I like the sound of that,” he purrs, bending down to trail his tongue up your throat. “I want to be everything to you. Would you allow me that privilege? To claim you, to own you in every way that you’d let me, in any dimension.”

Your head whips back and forth on the pillow, the edge so close your vision is dark. “Please, please, please,” you’re mumbling, “Alastor please, I’m gonna-”

The tension snaps before you can finish your sentence, a wailing cry falling from your lips as you clench and shake and cum under him, around him. It’s so different from when it happens in Alastor’s dreams- it echoes in every part of your body, your head spinning and fingers tightening in his shirt so hard that you fear you’ll rip the fabric. His name spills from you in waves with your release, and his eyes are dark as his thrusts intensify, chasing his orgasm with the resolve of a man possessed.

“Yours, all yours,” you mumble against his lips when his face comes close enough to catch his mouth. “All of me.”

He snarls and his hips stutter, snapping hard against yours. “So much- so much better,” he gasps through the tightening of your pussy on his length. “So perfect- mine -” With a harsh growl he spends himself a second time for the night, into the wet silken grip of your body. He thrusts gently through the wave of it before he collapses in a heap against you, breathing heavily into your ear.

“You’re so- lovely,” he mumbles. “Giving, for a demon. One would think that you would simply take- I would, were it me with your powers. But you’re just…” He trails off, head against your shoulder and breath slow.

You bring a hand up to trail down his back. “I meant it,” you whisper, swallowing your nerves. “If you- if you would have me, I would be yours. For as long as you want. Forever.”

He remains silent.

Fuck. You hope you haven’t overstepped some boundary. “Alastor?” He doesn’t move, or show any indication that he’s heard you. “Hey, are you okay?” You push at his shoulder with no response, so you double down and push harder, tumbling him off of you.

“Mother fucker.” The bandages wrapped around his chest are stained with red, more than when you had begun- the demon had torn his stitches open when he flipped the pair of you around to take control back, after you specifically told him you would handle your orgasms yourself. “Idiot,” you hiss at his slacken face, but you still brush his hair back from his sweaty forehead before pulling your bottoms back on and rushing down the hall to find Husk, ignoring the sting of the welts on your rear the whole way.

#hazbin hotel #ao3 fanfic #ao3 writer #alastor x reader #alastor #alastor the radio demon #x reader #bark bark bark #my stuff <3 #hazbin hotel x reader

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danaduchy · 1 month ago

Text

all texts from Kerry

Found Henry Holy shit, Henry's on board. Way to go! Check outta rehab of his own free will… thru the window, hehe. Some nurse tried to stop us - at first I thought she wanted an autograph, but she didnt even recognize me. Tell you the rest later How's it going with Nancy? S'all under control That's what I like to hear

Samurai's back together What about Johnny? He amped for this gig or meh? * As amped as he's ever been. Must be important to him cuz otherwise I wouldnt be forced to take this stupid pseudoendotrizine * Hard to say. You know how he is Well I'm amped as fuck, if anyone's wonderin. It'll be fuckin shimra - just gotta remember not to get too wasted before. Old habits die hard, haha

Waiting for you Kerry? Where are you? On the way. Chill. Gotta change

What's up, V? Too bad you split so quick after the concert - we didn't even get a chance to chat I barely know anything about you, except you've got a shit-ton goin on inside You're the one who left early That so? Hm, maybe. Anyway, it was fuckin nova, wasn't it? Shoulda recorded it for you cause you didn't catch anything thru Johnny

Hey! Heey. So I cant stop thinkin about our little adventure. FUCKIN AWESOME. Thats how you live life. ON THE EDGE :> * Who doesnt like explosions and races right? :) Lemme know if the rest of your plan worked out Sure, I'll text or call ;) If I can't convince you to blow up anythin else, then at least we can go for a drink. Take care! * Egh, day just like any other. Hope it helped you tho Pff, sound more nonchalant than a karaoke star from kabuki ;) I'll be in touch

Coffee at Caliente Know what? I'm glad we got a chance to talk over coffee. You're a straight shooter, V. Nothing like the ass-kissers I'm usually surrounded by. It's good we did what we did, right? Blowing that van to bits? Cuz I been thinking… * To be honest, got no clue if anything good will come of it. I agreed cuz you paid me. Honest as ever, huh? Means I was right about you. Appreciate that, V. I really do. Don't ever change. * It was the right thing to do. And you've got nitro running through your veins. Don't you ever let yourself think otherwise! Nitro in my veins? Yeah, and a fuse sticking out of my ass. Least that's what I felt back then. Was worth it, though - slept like a fucking baby for the first time in ages. Talk to you later. Thanks again!

Reward Hey, forgot to send the eddies before, but should hit your account any sec. PREEM WORK :>

Where are you? Well, where are you? At this rate I'm gonna be a fuckin skeleton by the time you get here.. Move your ass or forget about this whole thing Dunno where you are or what you're up to, but I'm a busy fuckin man. Forget about it - don't have time for this shit Srsly, V? Ditched me with the badges and split? Shitty move. We're fuckin THROUGH Where the fuck are you? Grrr doesnt matter. I'm checkin out, goin home. Call ya if somethin comes up

answer yr phone!!! Hey, V. Got a job for you. Corner of Grey and Mallagra. Be there first thing in the morning, we'll talk it over. I'm fucking livid, V! Those Us Cracks bitches clearly didn't get the hint. Instead of cancelling after we blew up their truck, they just moved their show to another date! Meet me at Riot ASAP. We'll deal with them differently this time. The Us Skanks still wanna fuck me over and record the cover, V! On top of that, their lawyers won't stop yappin'. We really need to talk. I'm at Dark Matter right now. Come 'round the back, the bouncers will let you in. It's easier to reach my dead grandma than you, V! Anyway, Us Cracks are done, for real this time. We should celebrate! Stop by Dark Matter. Use the back entrance.

What's up? Hey, hows it going? Ownin the streets of NC? * More like tryna survive. Let's just say the city and I are even Sweet. What's that? What's up with me? Nice of you to ask. Hammerin out some sick tunes. Ok, more like trying to hammer out. Keep your fingers crossed * Hey hey, you could say that. Lotta stuffs been happenin - even without you! :O Yeah yeah, whatever! I'm stringin together some fresh tunes… OK, more like thinking about some fresh tunes. Keep your fingers crossed

Missed holocall! V! Whatever you're doing right now - drop it and come see me at the Marina. Pier four.

Scratch that! Spoke too soon Slight change of plans - waitin on an important delivery and the fuckin gonk's late. Be at the marina at 7pm!

Kova-chek this out :D Kovachek went ballistic when he found out the yacht went up in smoke! Even went back on those pills that turn him into you know, whatever the opposite of a cyberpsycho is. More goo than a man haha this is greaaaaat! * Ouch. Musta sunk a lotta eddies into that float! :P Speakin of dickheads tho - turns out he stashed a ton of drugs on board! Like, two yachts' worth. And we sent aaaall of that to the bottom of the sea :D Bay's full of fish high off their fins now! * Literally zero living organisms in that bay, Ker. Yeah duh they they took their happy fishy asses down to the spaceport and went to la la land. Anyway tellin ya whenever I'm down, I think about our seaventure and it's like insta good feels :* * Wow. What now? Feel like blowing more of his shit up. Think he's got a luxury crib somewhere in the Rockies… Something to think about… :P FUCK NO! I GOT IT! We make a Kovachek voodoo doll! Can't wait to stab that prick right in the dick :D * I really don't care about that dick, Kerry. Fine OK. As long as you care about MY dick, that is :P

Hey :* Heeey, how's it hanging? Everything all right? I'll just come right out and say it - I miss you. Just a little bit though ;) You coming by anytime soon? * Miss you too, if you can believe that. See? We're tuned to the same frequency. I'll try to swing by sometime. Preem. I'll be waiting! * Hey! Well well, look who's suddenly spilling their guts out :P Dunno when I can drop by though :/ Sad face :( But fine - I know the world doesn't revolve around me. It sucks, but that's the way it is. Take care! * Been thinking about you… Thinking about you too. You're like some chorus to this incredible song that's been stuck in my head lately. On loop :) * What's new? Still conquering the world with music? Planning to! :) don't really know if there's anything left to conquer though. You're already mine, right? (I know, I knooooow, it's cringe. But I couldn't hold myself back!) Latest song I wrote - read it and weep. Wrote it while thinking of you: "Where you whisper, open up your heart / Reveal the place where I once had a heart" Whaddaya think? * I like it. It's gentle, but still has a bite. And knowing you, probably has multiple meanings ;) Exactly! I knew you'd get it :*** * Hmm, you were thinking about me when you wrote that? Dunno if that's good or bad :< it's up to you - that's the whole point! :* * Got a bunch of things on my plate right now. Times are tough. Oh, OK, cool. Do what you gotta do. We'll talk later, no prob.

Serious business Check it out, V. Got this email from a lifelong fan. It's serious. Gotta write her back. Dear Mr. Eurodyne, the day we both have been waiting for is finally upon us! I got rid of my husband, my house and all the other remnants of my former life. Now, I'm truly ready to give you my heart and all my other organs, should you desire them. You are the Sun and I am the Moon - I live to bask in your radiant brilliance. I love you, Mr. Eurodyne, and eagerly anticipate the time we'll finally be together. We will meet soon - I'm sure you know exactly where." She also sent me a gift card to a junk shop in Providence, wherever the fuck that is. It's clear she's nuts, just not sure if it's the murder-suicide variety. She writes me same day every year, like clockwork. What if she dissolved her man in a vat of acid, burned down her house and now she's sharpening her sickle cuz I'm next!? What are we gonna do, V??? * You really worried about her? More importantly: Kerry Eurodyne actually reads fan mail? Adorable. Yeah, yeah, Kovachek usually deals with all that shit. Even signs photos and sends them to the fans. But the fucker always forwards stuff from this crazy broad. Gets his rocks off fuckin with my blood pressure. Anyway, thought you might get a kick out if it. Seriously though, I should probably do something. Don't want her to knock on my bedroom door a year from now. * What, your first psycho groupie? Unbelievable :D Don't worry about it. We'll deal with her. Fuckin preem. What should I do, V? Ideas?? * Call the Providence PD. Let them scare her off? Or better yet, put her in a straitjacket? Boooring! 'Sides, cops mean lawyers and I hate dealing with them even more than I hate Kovachek's guts. No worries, I'll think of something else.You're in charge here. * Why not have a bit of fun? Write her back, give her Kovachek's address and say you'll be waiting for her there exactly one year from now :P Hahahaha you beautiful fucking GENIUS! Think I'll do exactly that. He'll shit himself when he sees her! We'll set up a camera and film it, too. Can't wait!Not worth your time. * She probably thinks she's pregnant with Lizzy Wizzy's love child, too. Check if the store has a netpage, see if they ship to NC and get yourself something nice! Smart! I'll see if they have anything worth my while. Get myself a studded choker. Or one of them Russian stacky doll-in-a-doll-in-a-doll things. Thanks, V! Later

Truth or Dare! I'm boooooooored, V. Let's play Truth or Dare! :D * Really don't have time for this, Ker. Cmon, don't be like that. TRUTH or DARE??? * Fuck it. Dare. OK, here it goes. Hope I got your full attention! OKOK here's your dare: "Survive one year with a rockstar" :D * Cheeky ;) Guess I can give it a try ;) * Don't know if I have time for that, Kerry. * Truth! Got nothing to hide. Here it goes: "After a little good morning sex, what I really want is…" * Coffee and cigarettes. Glass of whiskey if I need a little hair of the dog…

* Scrambled eggs. Clearly.

Puzzle by yrs truly V! Made one of them picture riddles for you, V! Wanna see it? :D Fuck yeah you do! Heeeere goes! …69 <3 * Not right now, Kerry. Got some other things on my mind… No worries. Listen, we all have days like this. Thinking of you here with my little puzzle, hope that helps :* * Really, Ker? Doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure that one out. Yeah, yeah, just warming up! Okay, get ready for round two! |$| >< #o.O# ;( * Kerry slapped the shit out of Kovachek! * Rockstars are the best spankers! Sorry, all you get is a kiss :* * My man is shit at puzzles :* You got it, you shrewd beast :D Congrats! Your reward - a Kerry Eurodyne sextape! Now all that's left is to shoot it :P I'll send you something sweet <3

Personality test You're not gonna believe this, V. I took one of those personality tests and apparently, I'm a NARCISSIST! Can you believe that shit?? * You, a narcissist? That can't be right. I know, right? Good thing you're smart about these things. You're so sweet, babe :* * Might be some truth to it if I'm REAL honest :) You do… tend to be an arrogant snob. Not to mention your ego's the size of a small planet :* Haha took the test again and now it says I'm a sociopath! Told you it's all bullshit! Told you I'm not a narcissist! Honestly you should listen to me, I'm smarter than whatever "scientist" came up with this shit!

Ah V fuuuck worlds biggest hangover, shakes and willies. Need a kind soul to tell me I'll come out the other side OK :-/ my age be damned ;-| * Textin ya from Dtown, 'hood's the very embodiment of shakes and willies * Got a gig, mebbe not worlds biggest but mondo anyway. This is me needin assurance I'll come out the other end in 1 piece Ever in the thick of shit, eh? It's where your&Johnny's minds meet, both uber vibe on it. JS better be fuckin happy - is he? * Need better candy to pop at raves, physio venting helps, mutes nerves, you'll stride strong, won't bother us workin peeps! Srsly V - soundin like you need time off, ad hoc vacay. U know, throw the monkey off your back, dunno, air your skull sponge. * Could be, just not now Handlin ginormous gig in Dogtown. Elbow deep in it, serious as a heart attack. * That an invite….? ;> Dunno, maybe…? My door's wiiiiiiide open, always ;> * Got this biz I gotta tend to first, one way or another… Oh ok mystery man - you do you. gotta say, findin this diss kinda titillating. Is it the masochist in me? tension's… ooooh, got my mouth watering. * Right, I know. One of these days - surprise! You'll see, be at your front door. Only if I'm home, obvi. You're textin a raucous, go-get-'em busy man… * OOO-K. So get lost, find a release. * Hmm, you're temptin me to call. Will do, given time. Do do do, plz. I'll be waitin <3

OK then I'll play support - we're all gonna all right, better'n all right - golden Which is DEF NOT me now - after a fuckin weird-ass 48 hrs, and this is me talkin…! just straaange… like unbelievably so Ahem, got stories to tell, solid gold * well, yeah, might find it a lil hard to believe… welp, hope you're whole and fine and happy. If you are, suck it. Dissin somebody like this - not nova, choom, supra unpreem * OK spill So dig this - meet-up w the enemy, competing publishing bitchez. Top dogz, bubbly flowin, rails vanishing up noses - all in back of a stretch cuz they out to impress my ass with their asses. Kinda sad, really. Gotta give 'em an e for effort, tho - they say: choom, got a mountain o' eddies for ya. N I say, really - where from? N they say, our mountain's a volcano, it'll spew scratch like lava… Hm i say, how's that? N they say, Zetatech product placement - next tour, choom so I says let's go - Zetatech now! they practically jizz. Zetatech HQ I get out, drop my pants and moon eveybody lookin out the windows of the building while I give the bitchez in the limo the finger at the same time. N i called Delamain.\nDel and me, we rollin, talkin anti-iperialism - any sense in it given the state of the world? Know what? we actually come to a conclusion - that nuthin makes sense anymore. So we go on rollin, and go on talkin and drinnk myself into grief. 18 hours later Del dropped me by my crib. He wished me GOOD LUCK IN THIS WORLD. choom was deep depressed, so much so he gave me a discount * Could've happened to Kerry and Kerry alone, that Plain to see, admit it, I just might be the king of NC's nightlife * vive le roi! and may the consort bask in his light ;> xoxo * hm, yeah, no titles more important than that… BETTER FUCKIN BELIEVE IT. * Oooh could go for a convo about life's futility. But DT takes no prisoners forgives no mistakes - need to focus. salty! somebody's in a m0000d * well, just don't see your parties and hangovers as overly important to me just now, if ever * yeah, sorry, just this gig, shitstorm, tense, lots to handle OK I get it, all crystal. Need a lil cheerin up or just leave you the fuck alone? * may be better off just leavin me alone, I'll ping you later, OK? say no more, luv ya and dreamin daily about your sweet tush <3 Eurodyne out * cheerin up, plz :) OK catch: How ya get a bass player to have that gleam in his eye? Shine a flashlight in his ear. That help any? * yup, did wonders :D thx raise you on the holo later, 'kay? * hm, not great, but I won't hold it against you. cute of you to try ok, so here's somethin to keep you warm at night in the meantime, you sweet precious thing <3

You doing anything? Yo, why haven't you shot me a message or nothin? I'm sitting over here like a dumbass waitin for my phone to start buzzin… * Sorry, Ker! You know how it is, life and shit… I know I know, didn't mean to be a total prick * I was just about to text you! Uh huh… suuuure… * You coulda shot me one too, y'know :P The fuck do you think I'm doin right now?!? So listen, how busy are ya? Gotta admit, I'm gettin the itch real bad. Like, a good itch, to see you I mean. * Sounds great! My megabuilding pad maybe? A megabuilding, huh? I mean, sure, guess that'll work… * Then I'll be waitin for ya at my Northside apartment :) Preem. Then I'll get there when I get there. * Let's meet up in Japantown. Just a hop and a skip for you ;) Perfect! * Can you drive over to the Glen? Love to see you too <3 I can do whatever the fuck I want. * Whaddaya say to a little date downtown? My Corpo Plaza place? Ohhh baby, my ass is already out the door! * I'm free! Wanna swing by Dogtown? You outta your mind? No fucking way! Either we meet in NC proper or I ain't goin out. Don't forget to tidy up a bit, yeah? ;)

Goooood morning, Night City! And you, V! Listen, I'm bored outta my mind. Wanna be bored together at least? You asleep? :P Oh, what's that? You want me to come over? Sure! You're one hot piece of ass, you know that right? You were in my dream last night. A good one. Don't worry, I ain't mad at dream V or nothin - in fact I wanna meet up! I hit a creative block, need some inspiration. I need you. I'm coming over. * Sounds good :) Megabuilding apartment then. Hope you remember which one's mine! On my way! * Genius idea from a genius himself. I'll be waitin for ya in Northside <3 Guess this means I have to change outta my bathrobe. The sacrifices we make! * Japantown. Now. :P Preem! Callin a Delamain right now! * Missed you too. Come to the Glen :) * Sounds like it's time for a trip downtown. My Corpo Plaza pad to be exact * Swing by Dogtown, I'll show you my fixer-upper :P Over my cold, dead, bullet-riddled body! The fuck you even doing there?! Get back to civilization, V! * haha XD so, right now's not good, but don't worry - I'll be thinkin of ya ;) Oh so that's how you wanna play this… nah, just messin, V. wink, wink. I'll catch ya another time!

I like you, V. Thought I owed you a little reminder of that. And hey, not to impose or nothin, but if you wanna spend some more time together, don't be such a coward about it, y'know? Hit me up!! * I like you too, Kerry. I'll let ya know :) Ain't we an adorable fuckin pair of sweethearts! Ha! * No imposing. I'd love to see you again soon too ;) Careful with those boundaries now, V. Let em down too far and I might just move right in! * Course! Soon as I find some time, you'll be the first to know! You honor me, sir! Hang tough out there, V. And remember - don't do anything I wouldn't do!

Hey, Ker! Life's been feelin a lil empty without ya… wanna meet up? So, wanna see me again? Fuck yeah! Your place ok? Heeey! I do, I do! Just… can't right now. Schedule's crammed. But I'll be in touch real soon!

I fucking love surprises! Yo, V, this is a nice ride! Seems like whenever you're on my mind all I can think about is rides ;) * Yeah I know ;) * I love surprising you :) As crazy as my life is, without you it'd be boring as hell <3 Thanks for the flowers! Thank christ they're artificial cuz I'm allergic to pollen. Sneezing, goopy eyes, the whole fuckin thing. Also… "Feedback"? What? Did we hook up at one of my concerts? Honestly I can't remember. * Totally. Speaker feedback fused our audio systems somehow. Made the sex interesting at least. Whaaa, well whatever, I don't need the whole sciency mumbo jumbo :D * You kiddin? How could you forget! Man, what the fuck was I on that night…

Won't see me for a while Gonna need to vanish for a while maybe a month or so. Hope you didn't have any romantic escapades planned and all set up :P Nooo :( Who'm I gonna take to the N54 rave then? :((( * Shiiiit mean to say I'm gonna miss an N54 party? Wanted to surprise you… Real fucking shame :/ I know ;( We'll crash multiple raves when I'm back in town tho :) Promise! * Take someone else feel free but just this once. Long as you promise - no hand holdin' no indecent stuff no INTIMACY mental neither :P Oh please faithful's my middle name :* Fuck really wish you could make it Make it up to you 100%

Long time no see :] There's this merc I know and haven't seen for a while… oh yeah it's you! :D C'mon pick up gotta tell you how wasted me and Slavoy McAllister got at this N54 rave xD Think we might've burnt down half the studio… by accident ofc XDD Hey, V? Pick up, choom Still can't top you 'n' me as a wrecking crew ;) Fuck, you ok? Pick up dammit not funny V 13 missed calls from: Kerry Eurodyne

You ghosting me? Fuck, pick up! Really?! Can't even bother to send ONE word?! Just gonna pretend like nothin happened, huh? COWARD

#cyberpunk 2077 #kerry eurodyne

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letters-from-ikemen · 2 months ago

Text

A Letter On A Book After A Long Day’s Work

Oi Devi,

Back in my study again ‘though I toldja to stay out when I ain’t around, arentcha? What? Thought I wouldn’t find out?

Ha, ya can’t keep anythin’ from me. I know ya always go to my study after a long day’s work. Heard that it’s soothin’ to ya or somethin’ like that. Miss me that much, huh?

Well, it’d be more suspicious if ya were actually doin’ whatcha were told ‘n restin’ in yer room, so do as ya please. Just be sure thatcha don’t make a mess of things. Sit there quietly ‘n read the book that’s under the letter. It’s the one I saw ya eyein’ at the bookstore the other day.

Dunno why ya didn’t get it. Don’t hard workers deserve to get the things they want?

Missions at night, typin’ up reports during the day, helpin’ the castle maids when ya don’t need to, dog sittin’ that quack’s furball, ‘n goin’ along with that ol’ man’s bakin’ antics. Least ya could do reap the rewards of yer labor. Guess I’ll just hafta start snatchin’ up stuff ya let slip through yer fingers.

Ain’t I a dotin’ boyfriend? So, read yer story ‘bout that dumb moon princess, ‘n relax. I’ll be back soon.

P.S. I expect a report ‘bout the book on my desk by the 13th. Ain’t got time to read it myself, so provide me proper notes or ya know what’ll happen. What, didja think there wouldn’t be any consequences ‘bout sneakin’ in here when I toldja not to?

Yours,

A letter for @x-daedalus-x. Thank you for the request! About This Blog || Request Rules

#ikevil jude #jude jazza #ikemen villains #ikevil #Ikémen Jude

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rizlowwritessortof · 6 months ago

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Waiting for the Real Thing

Yes, after one episode, I did it. I wrote a Russell Shaw fic. I know.

You can't serve in the same unit with somebody without getting pretty close. She managed to survive around him until a couple of years ago. And when she hears about their brother-in-arms troubles, she heads that way to help out. Of course, Russ beat her to it. And now she just can't make herself leave without seeing him.

Pairing: Russell Shaw/OC (Andi)

Word Count: 2759

Warnings: A little angst, a little smut, a little more angst and some fluff thrown in here and there for good measure 🙂

Dividers by the always amazing @firefly-graphics

Andi hesitated a moment before knocking. She could still walk away, pretend she hadn’t ‘accidentally’ found him. She’d be better off. At least her heart would be.

She knocked anyway.

He opened the door cautiously, eyes quickly taking her in, then scanning the area before landing on her again. His smile widened slowly, and he stepped back, gesturing with a tilt of his head for her to come into the room.

She couldn’t help grinning back at him, waiting for him to put his gun on the table before he grabbed her into a bear hug that she answered with equal enthusiasm. “Hey, Russ.”

He moved back, beaming into her face. “What the hell are you doing here? It’s been – what – two years?”

“Almost. How are you?”

Russell pulled out a chair and gestured for her to have a seat. “I’m good. Well, my arm’s a little sore, but I’ll live.” He handed her a beer from the mini-fridge and sat down across the table from her. “So seriously, what brings you to this neck of the woods?”

Andi opened her beer and took a long swallow. “Heard about Doug. Of course, by the time I got here, you already had it taken care of. Stopped by his place, he told me where you were staying – I just took a shot that you were still here.” She nodded towards his arm. “I heard you caught a bullet. Did you see a doctor?”

Russell rolled his eyes a little and nodded, answering with a cheerfully gruff tolerance. “Yes, mom, I saw a doctor. Antibiotics and everything, don’t worry. ‘Course I went through Horizon, the locals get all bent out of shape when there’s a gunshot injury.”

“Good. I know how you are. I can just see you still out on the job, wailing on bad guys with your one good arm.” She let her smile fade. “So you met up with Colter. How’d that go?”

He smiled. “Good, I think. Cleared the air some. At least he doesn’t still think I killed our dad.” He leaned back in his chair, those candid green eyes of his taking her in. “It’s really good to see you, Andi.” He took a swig from his bottle. “So what are you up to these days?”

“Actually, I’m heading to Fort Worth. I start a job there next week. I’ll be running system security for a computer software company down there.”

Russ gave her that crooked, disarming smile that never failed to make her heartbeat pause for a second. “You always did have that sexy nerd thing goin’ on. That’s awesome, really.” He sat forward, bracing himself on his forearms. “Think you can handle that, sitting behind a desk all day?”

She smiled back at him. “Hell, yes. I’m ready for a quiet life. I’ve had enough gunfire and chaos to last me the rest of my days.” She rose to her feet and tossed her bottle, helping herself to another beer. Russ nodded as she waved it at him, and she grabbed one for him, setting it in front of him as she sat down again. “What about you? When are you gonna give it up? You’ve been talking about opening that little brewery for years now.”

“I’ll get there someday. I don’t know, if I’m not in the middle of somethin’, I just get – antsy.”

Her expression grew more serious, and she looked down at the table. “Yeah. Gotta keep moving – because if you hold still long enough, you might get attached to something. Or someone.” She opened her beer and took a long pull, setting it down and still avoiding Russell’s eyes when he spoke again.

“I’m sorry, Andi.” His voice was soft, barely audible, and he reached out to put a calloused hand over hers. “You have every right to be pissed at me for taking off like I did.”

She shook her head. “We never made any promises. I just thought, after that few days – I don’t know. I thought we had something. Maybe it was just wishful thinking.”

He took hold of her hand, and she looked up at him, the expression in her eyes sending a stab of guilt through his chest. “We did have something. We do. I just – I know I’m fucking bad at this shit.” He ducked his head down a little, peering up into her eyes. “We’re okay, right? You mean a lot to me, I don’t wanna lose – well, whatever the hell this is.”

A smile crept onto her face, and she shook her head. “You and those damn puppy dog eyes. Yes, we’re okay. We’ll always be okay.” She shifted in her chair, partly as an excuse to pull her hand away. There was only so much actual contact she could take without losing what little control she had around him. “So, tell me about what happened with Doug. And with Colter.”

He began to talk, filling her in about the mission to save their friend and his reunion with his brother. His voice always struck a chord down deep inside her, made her feel like her soul was attached to him in some way, and the warmth it sent through her helped soothe the dull ache of longing that it inflicted in almost equal measure.

She was still laughing a little at his description of his exploits with his brother as he headed to the fridge for more beer. He opened hers and set it down in front of her, asking his question as he sat down. “So – is there somebody waiting for you down there? In Fort Worth?”

She tilted her head, one eyebrow raised, a little surprised at his query. “Um – no. Nobody.” She avoided his eyes as she returned fire. “How about you?”

He chuckled a little, a crooked smirk on his lips as he answered. “I make do here and there. I’ve pretty much always had to just make do.” The smirk faded as he looked into her eyes. “Except with you. You’ve always been the one they can’t live up to.”

She bit at her lip thoughtfully, glancing away and then meeting his green eyes head on. “Yeah, and you’re the one I never should have said ‘yes’ to,” she said softly.

Russ ducked his head with a rueful smile. “Yeah, you’re probably right about that.” It was quiet for a minute, then he laughed softly. “Hey, remember that time in Kabul?”

Andi joined his laughter, nodding. “Yep. I was so much smarter back then.”

“Smart-ass. Yeah, and mean. Hurt a guy’s feelings, sayin’ shit like that. Not to mention the knee.”

“That was an accident.”

“Sure, it was,” he teased. “Guess I left you alone after that, though, so – mission accomplished.”

“That was back before I knew you so well.”

“We did start off a little rocky.”

They reminisced through the rest of their beer, then Andi stretched and stood up. “I’m gonna borrow your little boy’s room, and then I want to look at that bullet wound before I go. I’m guessing you haven’t changed the dressing today?”

“Haven’t gotten around to it,” he hedged, and she shook her head.

“Yeah. I figured. Be right back.”

She walked out of the bathroom just in time to see him peel off his t-shirt. “Bad idea, this was a bad idea,” she mentally scolded herself, then squared her shoulders and went to where he was sitting on the edge of the bed. “Pretty sore?” she asked as he grimaced a little at the movement.

“It’s not too bad. I’ve had worse.”

“I know. I’ve bandaged them.”

“Well, I know you’ve got a more gentle touch than Colter, so I’m glad of that.”

She laughed, perching on the edge of the bed beside him and repositioning his arm to examine his wound. “I’m gonna clean this up a little, then I’ll wrap it for you again before I take off,” she said, grabbing an alcohol wipe from the first aid kit sitting beside them. He winced as she worked, as carefully as she could manage. Then she applied fresh gauze and wrapped his bicep again, trying to ignore the feelings that touching him were stirring up inside her. “There. That should hold you for a day or two. If you’re careful in the shower.”

She raised her head, and the look in his eyes made her pulse skip. “Thanks,” he said softly, and she nodded.

“You’re welcome.” He was still staring at her, so she busied herself putting the supplies back into the kit, until he leaned a little closer, breathing her name. He reached to brush her hair back from her neck, and she felt goosebumps bloom all over her body as his fingers touched her skin.

“Andi. Stay tonight.” He nuzzled his face into her hair. “Please.”

She leaned her head into his, her voice barely there when she finally spoke. “Damn you, Russ.”

He pulled back, letting his hand move to the back of her neck as he brushed his lips over hers. “That’s a yes, right?”

Andi laughed softly. “Yes, that’s a yes.”

He made a triumphant little face that made her giggle, then whispered, “Thank God,” before he kissed her for real.

He felt warm and solid beneath her hands as they roamed the muscular expanse of his back, his scars beneath her fingers a violent history, a unique braille that only those who have lived that life could read. She knew a lot of those scars intimately, had lived through them with him, had survived those events at his side. Remembering how close they had come to not making it home made this moment all the more intense, and she clung tightly to him as he laid her back on the bed.

He finally raised his head, her lips reluctantly parting from his, and he reached for the hem of her shirt, bracing himself on his good arm to help her work it up and over her head. She rolled slightly to give him access to her bra, and that joined her shirt on the floor as she laid back. His eyes roamed over her almost reverently before he bent to kiss her again, her breasts crushed to his chest as he rolled to his back, holding her close.

“Fuck, I’ve missed you,” he muttered against her lips, then groaned as she sat up, his erection trapped underneath her. She grinned, circling her hips against him before moving down to straddle his thighs as she reached for his zipper. “Bad girl.”

“Or is it - ‘good girl?’” she teased, laughing softly as he sighed in relief as she unfastened his jeans. “Feel better?”

“Feels okay. Could feel better,” he coaxed, and she slipped her fingertips into the waistband of his boxers.

“Such a whiner.” She pulled his boxers down and playfully swatted the side of his hip, waiting for him to lift up so she could pull them down to his knees. She bent to kiss the head of his cock before sucking it gently into her mouth, humming as he threw his head back into the pillow, swearing softly. She worked him deeper and deeper, finally sucking hard as she pulled off to look up into his glassy-eyed gaze. “I missed you, too.”

He moved quickly, grabbing her by the shoulders and flipping her to her back again, hands busily unfastening her jeans, bending to suck a nipple into his mouth and teasing at it with his tongue. She buried her hands in his hair, back arching a little at the sparks of pleasure he sent through her. He tugged her jeans and panties down, leaving her for a moment to rid her of them completely and finish kicking his off as well. Then he crawled back up between her thighs and dropped a kiss to her mound, looking up with a wicked grin before moving down further.

God, he remembered every tiny thing that drove her mad, and in no time he had her writhing beneath him, her hands gripping his hair as she begged and called his name again and again. She flung her arms wide when she came, and before she stopped pulsing and shuddering, he moved up and pushed inside her to the hilt.

“Jesus, fuck, Russ!” she cried out, clutching wildly at his shoulders as he buried his face in her neck, holding himself in deep and riding out her orgasm. When she finally began to relax, he kissed the soft skin of her neck and throat, then finally her lips, their breath gently mingling as she calmed.

“Goddamn, that was amazing,” he whispered, and she smiled drunkenly up at him.

“You’re tellin’ me.” She shifted her hips a little, moaning softly. “You feel so good, baby.”

“Yeah? You ain’t seen nothin’ yet,” he murmured into their kiss, and she smiled.

“You’re so full of yourself,” she teased, and she felt his lips curve into a grin before he lifted himself up to look down at her.

“What a coincidence, so are you.” She giggled, then gasped as he drew back and drove deep, rocking into her with a relentless, delicious rhythm that stopped them both from speaking coherently. She wrapped her legs around his hips, meeting each thrust, clinging to him tight as their moans and sighs filled the room. She came hard, digging her nails into his back as her muscles seized, and after a few more frantic strokes, he joined her with a loud moan.

She held him, fingers combing through his hair as they laid there recovering, determined to enjoy every second they had together. She could deal with the reality of after when she left tomorrow. He stirred, his breath warm on her neck, his lips gentle as he kissed her there. “You are staying the whole night, right? So we can do that again?”

She smiled. “Yeah, I’m staying all night. You’re so needy.”

He chuckled, nipping at her before moving to roll to his back. “When it comes to you, I am.”

She didn’t bother reminding him that he could remedy that situation. That conversation was a hopeless circle, so she ignored the thought and rolled to her side into his waiting arms.

He was quiet the next morning, watching her dress as she readied herself to leave. She was avoiding his eyes, and he felt that familiar pang of guilt that he lived with every day for the pain he knew he brought her. Someday – someday he’d get to the point of being able to live with himself without escaping into dangerous, adrenaline-filled missions, but he had no right to expect her to be there when he did.

He crawled out of bed, pulling on his boxers and walking up behind her to wrap his arms around her waist. She leaned back into him, a reluctant sigh escaping before she turned to face him. “Well, I guess I should hit the road. Long drive.”

He brushed his knuckles over her cheek, then bent to kiss her softly. “Sure you’re okay to drive? Not like we got a lot of sleep last night.”

She looked up into his eyes and smiled. “Worth it. I’ll probably get a room somewhere partway, don’t worry about me.” He smiled back, kissing her again, this time until she finally put a hand to his chest and pushed away. “Okay. Gotta go.” She turned to grab her jacket, slipping it on as she moved towards the door. “It was really good to see you, Russ.”

“Great seeing you, too. Just be careful.” She nodded and opened the door, turning back as he spoke again. “Next time I see you, you’ll probably be with some great guy you’ll meet down there, all happy and settled down.”

She gave him a smile that didn’t reach her eyes, her gaze lingering on his face one last time. “Nah. I’m not much for making do. I’ll probably just keep waiting for the real thing.” She raised a hand in a little wave and headed out the door, and he stood staring at it for a time before turning away.

After a long, hot shower, he stood at the bathroom counter removing the plastic he had wrapped around his arm to protect his bandages. He looked up and met his reflection’s gaze in the mirror, and they stared at each other for a few long seconds before he frowned at himself. “Fuckin’ idiot,” he muttered, hitting the switch to turn off the light and leaving the room.

Tags for my lovelies:

@saenalife @deanscarlett @jensensgotyoudean @jinkieswouldyoulookatthis @deansdirtylittlesecretsblog

@geeklibrarian @leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid @mrswhozeewhatsis @littlegreenplasticsoldier @sleep-silent-angel

@darcia22 @winchesterprincessbride @ellen-reincarnated1967 @eyes-of-a-disney-princess @deanslittleangel2y5

@melanie451 @spectaculacular-sammy @bookchic20 @jodyri @selma-jean-blog

@savingapplepie-eatingthings @kittenofdoomage @masked-maiden42 @lean-mean-deanwinchester @ericuhlorain

@undecided-garden @ceeceewinchester @typicalweirdbookworm @callmesweetheartifyoumeanit @youtoldalie

@tanithlowisabamf-blog @deandoesthingstome @jxackles @nerdwholikesword @soivebuiltupaworldofmagic

@kreweofimp @gabavaldman @chaos-and-the-calm67-blog @darkx143 @disassociativedogma

@ioanashalala @jencharlan @deansthirstblog @dorky-and-i-know-it @mischief-maker1

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@emily-winchester @hobby27 spnbaby-67

#waiting for the real thing #russell shaw fic #angst #smut #a little fluff #i have no idea how to make tags work #fucking thank you tumblr

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archangeldyke-all · 11 months ago

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idk if ur already taking requests again, but heres a little thought that cant escape my mind..

okay so imagine established relationship / married sevika x reader. and they try to have hot heavy anrgy sex like 'the old times', but sevika keeps breaking character and just being a sweetheart 🤭🤭

this is soooooo cute omg RAHHH

men and minors dni

it starts one night when you're both a little tipsy and goofing off together on the couch.

"top five favorite times we've had sex?" sevika asks. you giggle.

"babe... five is not enough." you say. sevika laughs.

"c'mon! at least try. i'll start the list. number one: our first time." she says. you smile and kiss her cheek.

"corny." you say. sevika scoffs and flicks your forehead. "hmm... remember when we went skinny dipping?" you ask. sevika grins.

"oh fuck, yeah, that was a good one." she says. "remember when we got in our first big fight?" she asks. you chuckle. "fucked the argument right outta you." she says, waggling her eyebrow. you giggle.

"shit, we haven't fucked like that in years." you say.

"do you miss it?" she asks. you giggle.

"fighting with you? fuck, no." you say. sevika snorts.

"i mean fucking like that."

"like we hate each other?" you ask. sevika nods and you shrug. "i dunno... it was pretty hot." you say.

so, after that conversation, you and sevika keep trying to have angry sex.

but it just doesn't work anymore.

sevika forgets to do the dishes one night (after you'd reminded her four times) and in the middle of your little rant to her, sevika spins you around into her arms and shoves her hand down your pants.

"f-fuck, sev." you whimper in her hold. she chuckles.

"always runnin' that mouth. 'm sure we can find somethin' better do to with it." she grunts as she shoves you to your knees. you fall with a gasp, and then claw at her pants, desperate to get her cunt in your face.

for a few minutes, it feels like old times, at the very beginnings of your relationship when you guys were still struggling to communicate and you'd take your frustrations out through sex.

but then sevika pauses her grinding and smiles down at you.

"you've got such pretty eyes." she whispers. you melt, nuzzling against the hand she's cupping your cheek with.

"says you." you whisper back up. she smiles.

"i'll do the dishes. 'm sorry." she says, helping you off the ground and leading you to the bedroom. you giggle.

"where're we goin'?" you ask. sevika shrugs.

"wanna fuck you properly." she says. you smile.

"so much for angry sex, huh?" you ask. sevika chuckles and shrugs.

"we can try again some other time." she says.

the next time you guys try, you're bickering about groceries.

"you can't keep buying this shit!" sevika says as she shakes the box of lucky charms in your face. you pout.

"it's my favorite." you say. sevika groans.

"but you never eat it! it just sits in the cupboard and gets stale!"

"but what if one day i'm in the mood for cereal and it's not here?" you ask. sevika huffs and runs a hand through her hair, frustrated. you smirk, an idea sparking in your mind.

slowly, you trail your fingers down sevika's body, starting between her collarbones, between her breasts, down her taut abs, until you're fiddling with her button. sevika blinks at you. "what are you doing?" she asks. you shrug.

"you're hot when you're angry." you say. this is the wrong thing to say, because sevika's scowl immediately melts into a lovestruck, reverent expression. you scoff. "quit lookin' at me like that, you're supposed to be upset!" you scold, even as you begin peppering kisses across sevika's smiling face. she shrugs bashfully.

"you just... make me soft." she says. you sigh against her.

"yeah... you too."

you guys try one more time before eventually giving into the fact that you're just too close to sustain an argument for longer than twenty minutes now.

sevika's got you face down, ass up, as she slams into you from behind, her grip on your ass harsh, her words even harsher.

"you knew i had a presentation today. and what did you do?" she asks. you whine into the pillow beneath you.

"i-i-i just wanted t' give you somethin' to look forward to gettin' home to." you whine. sevika smacks your ass.

"so you sent me a video of you fingering yourself!?" she asks incredulously. "two minutes before my meeting!?" she adds on.

you giggle into the sheets beneath you.

she's trying her best to be angry, but you can hear the underlying tone of affection in her words. and you know sevika. sevika's never mad about nudes. if anything, her presentation went even better because of your friendly reminder.

sevika pauses her thrusts at the sound of your giggle, pulling out before flipping you onto your back. she glares down at you.

"what're you laughing at?" she asks. you smile.

"you. i love you." you say between giggles. sevika's glare melts, and she leans down to capture your lips against hers in a passionate kiss.

"i love you too." she whispers. "i don't think we can do angry sex anymore." she says. you giggle.

"no, i don't think so either. good thing we've still got loving sex. and sleepy sex. and bored sex. and hungry sex. and--"

sevika cuts you off with another kiss, laughing against your lips.

taglist!

@lesbeaniegreenie @fyeahnix @sapphicsgirl @half-of-a-gay @ellabslut @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner @shimtarofstupidity @love-sugarr @chuucanchuucan @222danielaa @badbye666

#sevika #sevika imagine #sevika arcane #sevika x reader #sevika x you #soft sevika #sevika smut

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estrellami-1 · 1 year ago

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If I Should Stay

Ngl, I kinda forgot I was trying to do this in alternating POVs. That… kinda failed for a minute. Oops. But here’s Robin! And Wayne!

Part 1 | . . . | Part 35 | Part 36 | Part 37

“How could I have him and lose him in the same moment?” Steve asks, and he sounds so sad that Robin wants to wrap him in a hug and about four fuzzy blankets and give him hot cocoa and kill whoever made him sad. Except, she thinks, that would be Eddie, which would really just make Steve even more sad-

She stops her train of thought.

“Want me to go yell at him again? It worked the first time,” she says, just a hint of a grin in her voice, and it works because Steve sounds further from tears next time he speaks.

They joke a little more, until she feels comfortable leaving him, and when he drops her off at home she barely drops her things inside before bolting to grab her bike.

She pedals hard all the way to Forest Hills. She’s about to dump her bike before she sees Wayne on the front porch, smoking, so she carefully lays it down instead.

“Afternoon,” he says.

“Hi, Mr. Wayne,” she replies politely. “Is Eddie home?”

He tells her no, that he’s gone to apologize to Steve, and invites her in for tea and a talk. She thinks for a second before mentally shrugging and accepting.

He holds the door open for her and begins talking as he grabs a mug. She’s delighted to see that the inside reads, You’ve been poisoned! and says as much.

Wayne grins. “‘S become a habit of mine, collecting these mugs. My momma always said there ain’t much a cup of tea can’t fix, and I’ve found she’s right. Plus, havin’ a fun mug lifts your spirits.”

Robin chuckles. “That it does.”

“Now,” Wayne says, turning to face her. “I’m guessin’ you’re here to kick my nephew’s ass again.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Sir.” Wayne makes a face. “I’ve got a good name that none o’you younguns ever uses. Call me Wayne.”

Robin giggles. “Will do, Wayne.”

Wayne nods. “Good. Now, ‘bout Eddie. You let me say my piece, and I’ll let you decide whether or not he deserves another kick in the ass. Fair?”

“Fair,” Robin agrees.

“Alright then. My Eddie’s not a bad kid, though I’m guessing you know that.” He pauses to take a sip of his tea. “Sometimes he does things without thinking them through, just like everyone. Sometimes people scare him.” Her hackles raise, and Wayne raises placating hands. “I’m not saying any of this is your Steve’s fault. All I’m sayin’ is, people do stupid things when they’ve been hurt in the past.”

Robin cocks her head. “Eddie was hurt?”

Wayne hums around another sip. “The details ain’t mine to give, but yes. He was. Just about a year ago now. I almost had a stupid reaction to what he told me.”

“What stopped you?”

Wayne shrugs. “Experience, partially. But you helped too.”

Her eyes widen. “Me?”

“Yup. See, Eddie’s real observant. So when he came t’me a few months ago, talkin’ ‘bout how he thought you were the same as him, I had an idea of the kinda person you are. No tolerance for idiots, at least those who aren’t your friends. Loyal to those who are. And I thought, now why would she stick around him if he’s that kinda person? And I came to the conclusion that he’s not. Or he’s not intentionally. So. Pair that with the way Eddie’d been acting, and I had a pretty good idea of what was goin’ on.”

Robin nods. “Y’know what Steve said to him?”

Wayne hums. “Somethin’ bout how he’d never been with another guy?”

Robin nods again. “Exactly. And to have Eddie react like that…”

Wayne sighs and tips his head back until he’s looking at the ceiling. “Lord knows I love that boy,” he murmurs. “But he sure does know how to get himself into trouble.”

Robin grins. “And how to get himself out of trouble?”

Wayne snorts and looks at her. “Outta the frying pan, into the fire, more like.”

Robin giggles. “Yeah, I kinda got that impression.”

Just then the phone rings, and Wayne raises a brow at it, then sighs and stands to answer it, waving Robin down when she starts to stand as well,

“Munson residence, y’got Wayne.” He hums. “Wayne’s just fine, son, none‘a that Mr. Munson crap. She is, I’ll hand it over in just a second. My nephew apologize to you yet?” A grunt. “Good. Here she is.” He waves her over, and she hurriedly swallows a sip of tea before hopping over to the phone. “Steve?”

“Hey. The little shit found Dart.”

Robin breathes out a laugh. “Jesus. D’we gotta kill it and live with his sad face now?”

“That’s the thing, though, is it did help. He fuckin’ domesticated the thing.”

“Okay, so which one of us is gonna tell him?” She asks, in a tone that means it’s gonna be Steve.

He laughs, “well I’m not gonna tell him.”

“The fuck you’re not,” she argues, “you’re his second mom, dingus, it sure as shit ain’t gonna be me.”

He squawks, “I am not his-”

She hangs up on him with a satisfying click and a smug grin.

Permanent Taglist: @justforthedead89 @ilovecupcakesandtea @madigoround @bookbinderbitch @suddenlyinlove @nburkhardt @artiststarme @paintsplatteredandimperfect @i-less-than-three-you @alyelf @quarble @messrs-weasley @littlewildflowerkitten @vankaar @starman-jpg @bornonthesavage @steddie-there @goodolefashionedloverboi @andienotannie @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @platinum-sunset @just-ladyme @steddiestains @swimmingbirdrunningrock @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @martinskis-lydias @notaqueenakhaleesi @sleepyboosstuff @bestwifehaver @m-owo-n @thatonebadideapanda @finalmoondragon @velocitytimes2 @callmeanythjing @ajeff855 @ilikeititspretty @knitsforthetrail @sillysparrow @that-one-corvid @ace-is-bored @muricel @harpymoth @weirdandabsurd42

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#stranger things #if I should stay #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie #robin buckley #wayne munson #Wayne is a gift #as is Robin honestly #platonic stobin #fix it fic #time travel #time travel fix it #starambles

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justagalwhowrites · 2 years ago

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Lavender - Ch. 1

Went a bit sideways yesterday with my wandering mind and started a TLOU fanfic. Here's chapter 1 of "Lavender," an age-gap grumpy/sunshine friends-to-lovers (and eventually friends-to-lovers-to-enemies-to-friends-to-lovers) fanfic that starts pre-outbreak.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Length: 8.6k

Warnings: Not much yet! Whole fic will be very NSFW so minors DNI. This chapter is very basic. Mild violence, mention of masturbation.

Synopsis: You're a college student in Austin, Texas, who gets a summer job nannying Sarah Miller. It's not long before her dad sees you as more than a babysitter - or more than a friend.

Austin, Texas, April, 2000

You couldn’t believe you were doing this. You closed your eyes, tilting your head up toward the Texas night sky, air surprisingly cool for April in Austin, trying to keep the tears that were building in your eyes from actually falling. Like that would make a damn difference. You took a deep breath and looked down at your phone.

You only had a few numbers saved. You hadn’t made many friends in college, the only girlfriend you had was in the frat house behind you, hanging out with her boyfriend. She was out. Your grandmother was across the country, so she was obviously out. The handsy guy who’d brought you to this damn party was a big hell no. Which pretty much left…. Joel Miller. Your boss. You winced, thumb hovering over the call button for a moment before pressing it.

“Kid?” He answered quickly. That somehow made it worse. But at least he didn’t sound half asleep. “What’s going on, you OK?”

“Hey Joel,” you sniffled a bit. “Sorry to bug ya, I know it’s real late…”

“Kid,” his tone changed, almost warning you. “I told you you could call if you needed somethin’, what’s goin’ on?”

His accent got stronger when he got keyed up. You’d noticed that over the year you’d known him.

“Could you…” Shit, you were really going to have to do this. You sniffed again. “Could you come get me?” The words all started coming out of you in a rush then, you couldn’t really stop them. “I’m so sorry, I know it’s late and I think I can walk it if you can’t but I went to this party with this guy and he’s not really what I thought he was and I just can’t stay here with him anymore and…”

“Kid,” he cut you off. “I’m coming to get you right now, are you close to campus?”

“Yeah,” you sniffed again, looking back at the frat house and reading him the house number.

“I know where that’s at,” he said. His voice was calm, soothing. “I’ll be there in less than 10, you safe?”

“Yeah,” you nodded even though he couldn’t see. “Yeah, I’m fine, I just need to get out of here…”

“Stay put,” he said. “I’m comin’ to get you.”

“Thanks, Joel.”

You flipped your phone shut and put it in your purse before smoothing the back of your sundress down and sitting on the curb, hoping the plethora of cars on the street blocked you from easy view. Your feet - in platform sandals that you’d been stupid enough to paint your toenails for earlier that day - were in a puddle, but it was hard to care.

You were just finishing up your junior year of college and this was only the fourth guy you’d gone out with so of course he had to be a massive jerk. It was just your luck.

You’d expected a bit better when you moved to the Lone Star State to go to school. It had been a change of pace from your small town in upstate New York where you’d lived with your grandmother all your life. You wanted something bigger, to actually get out of that little town and see some of the world before you settled into whatever life had in store for you. And the south was supposed to be nice. That’s what everyone said, southern hospitality and all that. But it hadn’t been very nice.

You’d tried to make friends with your roommate freshman year and you kind of had. She wasn’t mean or anything, you just had very little in common. She was an athlete so the demands on her time were many. She was studying music when you’d rather jump off a bridge than try to perform anything for anyone. She had a lot of friends there already - she was from Houston, so plenty of her high school classmates were there, too. You’d probably spent a little too much time trying to fit in with her. By the time it was apparent that you were fine as roommates but not friends, everyone else seemed to have friends, too.

Which wasn’t the end of the world. You’d only had two close friends back home, anyway. You’d never been very social, preferring to be on your own and quiet instead of with people. Too much time with anyone else exhausted you, unless it was the RIGHT person.

But there was a difference between alone and lonely and you found yourself lonely here a lot. The dating scene was, somehow, worse. The first guy you’d gone out with since coming to school hadn’t even made it past date number one, he was so self absorbed it was like you had been taken to dinner just so he had someone to talk at. Number two ended up asking for your roommate’s number when he walked you back to your dorm that night. Number three had made it as far as date number three but got a little ticked that - when his hand traveled up your shirt to your bra - you’d asked him to stop. He left you at a gas station and you’d had to call a cab to get back to your apartment.

The guy tonight had been looking a bit better. Or so you thought. He’d pressed you against the wall in the hall outside your front door and kissed you at the end of your last date, his hips against yours, his tongue dipping into your mouth. You’d liked it, for a moment, until he pinned your wrist to the wall and tried to put his hand down your pants. He’d stopped and apologized, though, when you asked him to stop. That, you’d thought, was a good sign. That he was respectful, kind. So when he’d asked you to go to a party with him tonight, you’d said yes.

But when you actually got there, he kept trying to get you to drink whatever concoction had been mixed directly in coolers in the middle of the room, pressing red plastic cups into your hand at every opportunity and getting more and more frustrated when you insisted on sticking with bottled water instead.

Eventually, his hand had gone up the back of your dress as you threw a ball in beer pong, his fingers brushing against your lower lips before sliding up and groping your ass. You whiffed the shot, practically jumping away from him.

“What the fuck, Jeremy?” You asked, tugging your dress down on instinct.

“C’mon baby,” he’d said, all but stalking after you. “You gotta give me something…”

“No, I don’t,” you glanced around you. There wasn’t much help to be had here. “I’m going home.”

“Don’t be like that,” he said, reaching for you. You stepped back again. Then there was a change in his face, like a switch flipped. He was no longer the nice boy who’d, for your first date, asked to take you to the art house movie theater in town. He was a hulking man, one who had six inches and at least 100 pounds on you, who felt he could take what he wanted by right. “I just want to make sure you have a good time, let’s get you a drink…”

His hand closed around your wrist and he started pulling you toward him.

“I don’t want a drink,” you curled the hand in his grip into a fist and covered it with you other hand, yanking it free. “I’m going home. Don’t call me again.”

You stalked out of the party, trying to keep your cheeks from burning.

The 10 minute wait for Joel seemed like an eternity. You kept glancing to your watch, feeling like ages had gone by when it had only been a minute or two. Only eight minutes had passed when you heard your name being called from behind you. You winced, hoping Jeremy wouldn’t find you where you’d tucked yourself away to wait.

No such luck.

“Hey!” He prowled over to you, his lips curled into a snarl. “Who the fuck do you think you are, embarrassing me like that?”

You stood up, instinctively backing into the truck behind you before you realized that you probably should have fucking moved somewhere else before you were cornered.

“I wasn’t trying to embarrass you…”

He grabbed your wrist again, firmer this time, his fingers digging into your flesh, pulling you sharply against his body.

“Well, you did,” his breath smelled like liquor and cigarettes and his body was hard. You squirmed, trying to get away from him. “You really fucking embarrassed me…”

“Hey!”

A car door slammed and your head whipped around. Joel was storming across the sidewalk toward you, wearing pajama pants and a t-shirt - he hadn’t even stopped to put on shoes.

“This isn’t your business,” Jeremy snapped before turning his attention back to you. “Stay out of it.”

“The hell it ain’t,” one of Joel’s hands went over your shoulder, pulling you back from the other man’s grip and putting you behind him. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll leave her alone.”

Joel looked to you, his brown eyes wide as they looked you over.

“You OK?” He asked. You nodded. “This the guy?” You nodded again. His jaw clenched but he nodded toward his truck. “C’mon Kid, let’s go.”

“Nah man, I don’t know you,” Jeremy came around you, grabbing your wrist again and yanking on you. “You’re not just gonna take off with my date…”

Joel punched him, hard, across the face before catching you around the waist so you stayed up while Jeremy fell to the ground, groaning and clutching his face. Joel set you down gently before standing over Jeremy. “Touch her again and I’ll kill you,” his voice was oddly calm. You just stood there, holding your sore wrist to your chest. You hadn’t realized when you’d started almost hyperventilating but you were almost gasping for breaths. Joel turned back to you. “You’re OK, Kid. You’re OK.”

He put his arm around you, pulling you into his side and steering you to his truck. He helped you up into it, watching as you buckled yourself in before getting into the driver’s seat.

“That asshole know where you live?” He ground his teeth a bit, flexing his hand he’d punched Jeremy with on the steering wheel.

“Yeah, he picked me up,” you were still holding your wrist. “Is your hand OK?”

Joel glanced over to you before looking down to his hand.

“Been in worse fights than that,” he said. “How’s your wrist? Need to take you to the hospital?”

“Oh God, please don’t,” you groaned. “It’s just going to be a little bruised…”

“Should report it to the cops,” he muttered. “That fucking asshole…”

“And, what, get you arrested for laying him out?” You asked, brows raised. “It’s fine, Joel, really…”

“Well I’m not taking you to your place,” he growled. “Not safe, not with that… You can stay with us for a bit. You said you’re moving soon, anyway, right?”

“I really don’t want to put you out…” You began but he cut you off.

“You half live there in the summer anyway,” he said. “I’d rather know you were safe. ‘Sides, Sarah’s at a friend’s house tonight. You can sleep in her room, don’t even have to put anyone on a couch. When do you get into your new place?”

“Three weeks,” you sighed. “It’s really not that big a deal, this kind of thing happens all the time…”

“Don’t make it right,” he glanced over at you again before putting his eyes back on the road. “You can stay with us for a few weeks, we’ll go get some of your stuff tomorrow.”

You watched him for a moment. There was blood on his knuckles, the streetlights outside catching on the shaggy curl of his hair, his eyes narrowed on the road in front of him.

It was lucky that you’d ended up working for Joel Miller. You’d know that before, too. He’d put an ad in the paper a year before, looking for a nanny for his then 9-year-old daughter, Sarah, and you’d been looking for a way to not take out more student loans. A simple enough arrangement.

You’d met for the first time at a coffee shop near campus. You showed up a few minutes early - you always did, being late made you anxious - and Joel showed up a few minutes late. You’d recognized him by the look of general discomfort on his face, a look that made you smile a little. He was clearly out of his element, interviewing nannies, looking around a coffee house filled with college girls so that he wouldn’t even know which one to approach. You saved him the trouble. “Mr. Miller?” You asked, brows raised. You’d worn a sundress that day, too. But you’d put on the only blazer you owned with it, trying to look somewhat professional. Not that you really knew how. “Hi, I’m here for the interview?”

“Hi,” he looked relieved. “Sorry I’m late, got held up on a job… Can I get you a coffee or… somethin’? I’m gettin’ somethin’…”

“Sure,” you smiled. “Thanks.”

You stood awkwardly beside each other in line, Joel insisting you order first which made you feel bad when you got an iced lavender latte and he just got a black coffee.

“Sorry, I’m such a sucker for lavender,” you smiled, somewhat sheepishly, over your cup. “There’s a lavender farm down the street from where I grew up, could always smell it on the air at the right time of year…”

You were babbling. You set the cup down.

“Sorry,” you smiled again.

“No, no, you’re good,” he smiled a little too. “I’ve never done this before, so…”

“Me either,” you said quickly. “I nannied for the kids of some friends of my grandma’s but they already knew me, so didn’t need an interview.”

“So, you’ve got experience watching kids?” He asked, turning his paper cup absently in his fingers.

“Oh yeah,” you nodded. “I love kids, I started babysitting when I was 13 and have nannied in the summer since I was 17 but I’m staying here this summer because of my lease, so I need something local.”

“You’re not from here then?” He asked.

“No,” you shook your head. “I’m from New York? Not like.. the city. The state. The boring part.” He laughed a little at that. You smiled. “I came here to go to school. I’m studying to be a teacher.”

“A teacher?” He asked. You nodded. “You must like kids. What do you want to teach?”

“High school biology?” You asked more than answered. “Really, I’d love to be a pediatrician but the loans… But teaching high school would be great. There were some teachers I really connected with in high school, the ones who believed in me and trusted that I could become something. That’s what I want to be for someone else, you know?”

He nodded and took a sip of coffee. You tried to not watch his throat as he did. Mr. Miller was almost weirdly attractive - way hotter than any dads you’d worked for in the past. You didn’t want to blow this interview just because it felt like you could write a book of poetry about the man’s jaw alone.

“Can you tell me about your daughter?” You asked after a moment. “I think you said she was nine?”

He nodded again.

“Yeah, Sarah,” he said. “She’s a good kid, smart as a fuckin’ whip.” He noticed that he cursed, his eyes going wide. “Shit… sorry, no…”

“It’s fine,” you smiled. “I’m a big girl, I can handle some adult language.”

He looked relieved.

“Thanks,” he said. “Sarah’s… I don’t know what I did to deserve a kid like her but it had to be somethin’ in a past life because it sure as shit ain’t this one. She’s such a sweet kid, so smart - way smarter than me, not a clue where she got it from - funnier than hell. You’ll love her, everyone loves her. She’s easy to watch out for, part of why I’ve never had to do this before. We had neighbors who were happy to look after her for me during the summer but they moved to Dallas about a month ago.”

“Could I meet her?” You asked. “I mean, assuming you’re interested in potentially hiring me, I’d like to meet her, get to know her a bit…”

“Well,” Joel looked awkward again. “You’re… the only interview I got. I must not be offering enough, didn’t get any other takers…”

“I’m not opposed to being a last resort,” you smiled. He laughed. “And I’m fine with the pay. It’s enough that I won’t need to take out another student loan.”

“That’s good,” he sighed. “Because I’d love to offer more but…”

“I get it,” you said. “Will I be meeting Sarah’s mom?”

“No,” he replied. “She hasn’t been in the picture in years. Her loss, but still. It’d be nice to have a… female presence in her life.”

“That’s hard,” you leaned in a bit closer to him. “I’m really sorry. If it helps, I know a bit about what that’s like. My dad left before I was born, my mom not too long after. I grew up with my grandma. She’s great, I love her more than anything and she’s done so much for me but… I dunno, I guess I was always wondering why I couldn’t be enough for them to want to stick around.”

“Speaking from experience,” he replied. “It ain’t got shit to do with you, Kid.”

It was the first time he’d called you that. Now it was practically all he called you, you couldn’t remember the last time he’d said your name. You kind of liked it. Your grandmother had been the only person close enough to you to have given you a pet name, it was nice to have a term of endearment from someone. Even if it was a bit infantilizing.

You realized Joel must have been fucking flooring it to get to you as fast as he did. It took almost 15 minutes to get back to his place and the TV was still on when you stepped into the living room, a horror movie you didn’t recognize playing.

“C’mere Kid,” he jerked his head toward the kitchen. “Should ice that wrist.”

You followed obediently, still cradling your injured arm as he rifled around the freezer. He pulled out a bag of frozen corn and dropped it on the counter before squeezing it a few times to break it up. He wrapped it in a towel. “Hop up,” he patted the counter and you obliged. He held his hand out and you put your injured wrist in it. He turned it over gently in his hands, examining you.

“You’re already bruising,” he growled. “Should’a fuckin’…”

“You got me out of there,” you cut him off, voice gentle. “I don’t even want to know what might have happened if you hadn’t come to get me…”

“Me either,” he muttered, gently pressing the frozen vegetable bag to your arm. You winced. “Sure you don’t want to go to the hospital?”

“Positive,” you replied. “Nothing’s broken. I broke my arm once when I was a kid, it was way worse than this. They’d just send me home with some Tylenol right now.”

You looked at his hand.

“You’re sure you’re OK?” You frowned. He glanced down.

“Definitely,” he said, going to run his hand under the faucet. He glanced up at you. “You know how to throw a punch?”

“I think so?” You replied. “How hard can it be?”

He shut the faucet off and dried his hands before stepping in front of you.

“Let’s see,” he said. “Make a fist.”

You obeyed, using your uninjured hand. He shook his head, taking hold of your fist.

“Your thumb has to be on the outside of your fingers,” he said, gently opening your hand and freeing your thumb. He nudged your fingers closed again and brought your thumb over the top of them. You’d never noticed just how large his hands were until you saw them contrasted with yours. “Like that. You’ll break your thumb if you do it the way you had it. When you go to punch, bend your knees a bit. It’ll stabilize you. All your power is going to come from your lower body, start there and carry it up. Strike with your middle knuckle and then follow it through.”

“Thumb outside, knees bent, start low, follow through,” you repeated, your hand still in his. You tried to ignore the electric current that ran over you where his skin touched yours.

“Right,” he said, releasing your fist. “So next time some asshole puts his hands on you, do that at his nose, OK Kid?”

“Something tells me it won’t be as effective as when you do it,” you smiled, your eyes meeting his.

“Maybe not,” he shrugged. “But it’ll still hurt and give you a chance to run. Which is what you do. And you can always call me. OK?”

“OK.”

He helped you down from the counter.

“Don’t know about you,” he said. “But I’m a bit too keyed up to sleep quite yet. Want somethin’ to drink?”

“Is it weird to ask for a beer?” You almost winced.

“Not like you’re workin’,” he said, going for the fridge before turning back for you. “Wait, you turned 21 last fall, right?”

“Yes, Joel,” you smiled, rolling your eyes a little. “I’m fully legal. Well, except to rent a car.”

He laughed as he got two beers from the fridge, opening them with a bottle opener that was attached to the counter. He passed you one and you both went to the living room, the credits rolling on whatever horror movie he’d been watching.

“Sorry I made you miss your movie,” you said, sitting on one end of the couch and taking a sip of beer.

“It was shitty anyway,” he shrugged.

The TV switched to a commercial break before teasing “When Harry Met Sally.” Joel went to change the channel but you stopped him.

“What, don’t tell me you like that… romance crap,” he was almost teasing you.

“Have you ever seen ‘When Harry Met Sally?’” You asked. He made a face. You rolled your eyes. “Joel. C’mon. It’s one of the best movies ever made.”

“No,” he scoffed.

“It is!” You insisted. “The dialogue? The pacing? The acting? Ugh, so good. It’s one of my favorites. Give it a try, pretend there’s a heart somewhere in there.”

He was still looking at you, skeptical. You’d somehow closed the gap on the couch, your arm brushing against his.

“I will lose all respect for you if you just refuse to even try it,” you challenged.

“Oh because you’ve got so damn much of that,” he snorted. You elbowed him playfully. “Fine, Kid. We’ll watch your little romance movie. But only because you had a bad night and I’m not a total asshole.”

“You’re not?” You clutched your chest in mock surprise.

“Don’t tell anyone.”

You kept glancing over at him as you drank your beer, your legs tucked up beside you as he leaned against the arm of the couch. He was actually paying attention, you’d give him that.

“Well?” You asked during the second commercial break.

“It’s… not bad,” he looked over to you.

“You like it!” You twisted to face him.

“No, I do not,” he fought to keep from smiling. “I just don’t… dislike it.”

“Joel Miller: father, contractor, rom-com lover,” you smirked, taking a sip of beer. He just shook his head, a twitch in his jaw. “Don’t worry, I’ll get you tickets to opening night of the next Meg Ryan movie, it’s the least I can do.”

You caught him stifling a laugh more than once and, about an hour into the movie, checked your injured wrist before taking the still half frozen corn back to the kitchen and coming back with two bottles of Shiner, passing one to you.

The beer made you bold - and tired. Your head drifted onto his shoulder and he didn’t stop you, your blinks becoming longer and longer until your eyes stayed closed and you fell asleep against him.

***

You’d been right about the movie. Joel shouldn’t be surprised. You had good taste in most things. The books and music you brought around, the food you invented on nights where he worked late and you made Sarah dinner. Your taste in men left something to be desired, though.

Joel ground his teeth, glancing over at your sleeping frame, the almost empty beer bottle still in your fingers. He gently took it from you, setting it on the side table to not disturb you. You sighed happily and pressed yourself closer to his side. His eyes trailed down your body. You were wearing one of your damn sundresses again - seemed like that’s all you wore this time of year. He thought you were going to be the death of him the summer before, him coming home every night to see you in one of your damn sundresses or cut off shorts and a tank top, looking soft and sweet and beautiful as you made dinner or did a science experiment with Sarah.

He’d never known a person as kind as you. That he was sure of. The first time he called you on a Saturday morning to ask if you could come watch Sarah on your day off - there was an emergency at a job site and he was desperate - and you made it sound like he was doing you a favor, not the other way around.

“Of course!” You sounded actually excited. “Do you think I could take her to the zoo? There’s a cool program there on Saturdays, I was thinking of asking to take her sometime, anyway…”

He’d tried to pay you for it but you waved him off.

“I’m just hanging out with my best friend at the zoo, why should you pay me?” You looked at him like he was crazy. Sarah was glowing.

You were everything bright and good and the fact that someone had put his hands on you… He ground his teeth again. He was surprised that you weren’t more upset. He’d have expected you to be crying, at the very least. It sounded like you had been when you called. But, by the time you got to his place, you were your usual self. Like somehow one asshole wasn’t going to ruin your outlook on the world.

Joel hadn’t realized how strong the drive to protect you would be. He’d never needed to before. He’d told you pretty early on to call if you ever needed something. He’d even told you to call if you were drunk at a party and needed a safe ride - didn’t want you getting in a car with some idiot college kid who’d had a few too many behind the wheel. You’d rolled your eyes a bit but said thank you all the same. But he wasn’t expecting you to ever need to take him up on it. At least, not like this.

He hadn’t realized that he’d run out of the house without shoes on - without even locking the damn door - until he was halfway back with you safely beside him. You’d sounded so hurt and so scared, he couldn’t get to you fast enough. He’d had to keep himself from beating the shit out of the man who’d been holding you.

And now you were asleep on him.

There was so much wrong with what he was thinking about you. There’d been so much wrong with what he thought about you since the day he met you. He called you Kid as much as a nickname as to remind himself that you were far too young for him, closer to Sarah’s age than his own. It didn’t matter that you were an adult, you were barely out of your teens when he met you. Men who preyed on young women disgusted him. He wasn’t about to become one just because he could spend all damn day just watching you exist.

He sighed, closing his eyes and leaning his head back on the couch. Was it fair to even have you work for him this summer if he felt this way? He was going to, regardless, he just wasn’t sure how shitty he should feel about it. Offering you his home as a place to stay for a few weeks wasn’t a smart move, though. He was already around you all the damn time when Sarah was out of school - and pretty regularly outside of that, too, you coming by a few times a month to keep an eye on her when he needed to take care of something on evenings or weekends. You even tutored her in math and science when she hit a rough patch back in February, you figuring out her stumbling blocks and reframing it so she could wrap her head around it. Sarah had been so excited when she got an A on her test, the first thing she wanted to do after telling Joel was call you. He’d heard your excited yell through the phone from a few feet away, Sarah beaming with pride. You, in his space, with your damn sundresses and your CDs and your books in fucking French were going to kill him.

He tucked your head tighter to him, slipping an arm below your waist before maneuvering you into his arms. You sleepily mumbled something - totally incoherent - and he carried you to Sarah’s room, setting you gently on her unmade bed. He took off your shoes before tucking you in and paused. You’d painted your toenails red, the same shade as the cherries on your sundress. You’d painted your fucking nails for the asshole who’d put hands on you. He clenched his jaw for a moment before pulling the blankets over you and closing the door behind him.

Joel tried to think about anything but the way your breasts looked in that dress, knowing you were just down the hall, as he fucked his own hand before passing out alone.

He woke up before you the next morning and stood awkwardly in his kitchen, wondering what he should do. If you were a woman - well, a woman he’d fucked - he knew what he’d do. He’d try to make you breakfast, something that was good enough that you might want to come back and fuck him again. What did he make for his babysitter who he rescued from a bad date and then fell asleep on his arm?

He started with coffee and waited, standing there awkwardly leaning against the counter where he’d had your hand in his the night before. Thankfully, you woke up not long after him, shuffling into the kitchen in bare feet, your hair mussed and mascara on your cheeks. You’d put on an oversized zip up hoodie that Sarah had stolen from him and never given back, the sleeves pushed up to your elbows, the sweatshirt not that much shorter than the dress below it.

“Morning sunshine,” he teased you. It took you a moment to register that he was there, looking almost surprised when you did. “Coffee?”

You wordlessly nodded, shuffling to the kitchen table and sinking into a chair before putting your head down on the table. He smiled and shook his head, pouring you a cup of coffee and adding some milk and sugar before putting it in front of you.

“Not a morning person?” He asked, sitting beside you. You shook your head, lifting the mug to your lips and taking a long drink. You looked surprised again, looking from the mug to Joel. “Use your words, Kid.”

“How’d you know how I like my coffee?” Your voice was still scratchy with sleep.

“Took a guess,” he shrugged. “Didn’t quite have the materials for a lavender latte.”

You glared at him before taking another sip of coffee and sighing happily.

“How’s the wrist?” He asked, nodding to your arm.

“Fine,” you said, stretching it out in front of you. There were black and blue fingerprints on it. Joel clenched his jaw. “Just a bit sore. How’s the hand?”

“Fine,” he said, voice gruffer than he’d intended. You just nodded and drank more coffee for a moment.

“So,” you said, setting the coffee cup down and crossing your sweatshirt-clad arms on the table. “Did I fall asleep on you last night? And if yes, how embarrassing was it?”

“You did,” he replied, half smiling at the memory of you against him. You groaned, putting your head down on the table again. “Not embarrassing though. You only snored a bit, sounded like a very small chainsaw…”

“I snored?” Your head shot up from the table, eyes wide. He just laughed, taking a sip of coffee. You narrowed your eyes at him. “Cruel. That’s what you are, you’re cruel. Such a weird trait for a man who’s favorite movie is ‘When Harry Met Sally’ but what do I know…”

“You hungry?” He asked after a moment. “I could make you somethin’. Not sure what you might want…”

“You have to get me to my apartment today, right?” You asked, fidgeting with your mug. He nodded once. “Well, there’s this great diner around the corner from me, makes the best waffles you’ve ever had in your life…”

“Not a Waffle House is it?” He asked, quirking a brow at you. You glared at him.

“No, Joel, it’s not a Waffle House,” you shook your head but you smiled a bit all the same. “I could take you to breakfast? It’s the least I could do…”

“I know what I pay you, Kid,” he said. “I’ve got breakfast. But yeah, let’s go get these famous waffles. I gotta grab Sarah this afternoon, was thinkin’ of calling Tommy and having him meet us at your place…”

“Why?” You frowned. “I’m just grabbing some clothes and stuff, hardly need a team for heavy lifting…”

“Because if that asshole comes around again, I’ll need someone to keep me from kicking his ass,” Joel said wryly.

You rolled your eyes but went along with him, finishing your coffee and walking barefoot to Joel’s truck, your shoes from the night before dangling from your hand. You rolled the window down on the drive, hanging your head out with your eyes closed until Joel got closer to your apartment.

“Turn right here, instead of left,” you said, pointing to a place with red and white awning up ahead. “It’s just up there, on the right.”

You led the way inside, the small restaurant bustling for early on a Saturday. One of the waitresses did a double take as she saw you with your face all but pressed against the dessert case.

“Girl, what are you doing here this early?” She asked, snapping her gum.

“Just getting an early start,” you smiled. “How’s your morning going so far Luce?”

“Oh you know how it is,” Luce looked you up and down. You were still wearing Joel’s hoodie from Sarah’s room. “You doin’ a walk of shame?”

“Luce!” You swatted her arm. “C’mon, give me SOME credit. You know I’d tell you immediately how it was if that ever happened.”

The waitress barked a laugh and shook her head. There was a bell at the kitchen window and she looked behind her before going back to you.

“Sit tight for like three minutes,” she snapped her gum again. “I’ve got a table that’s ready to cash out, let me run this food and take care of them and you can sit with me.”

“You’re the boss,” you gave her a small salute before turning back and smiling to Joel. “Prepare to have your life changed, Joel. I’m telling you, these waffles? Will ruin you.”

“Nah, you’ve built them up too much,” he shook his head, frowning. “Can’t be that good.”

The waitress you’d talked to before brought you to a table and put menus in front of you before leaning in conspiratorially to your ear.

“Thought you said this wasn’t a walk of shame?” She looked Joel up and down.

“Luce, this is my friend Joel,” you gestured across the table. “I look after his daughter in the summer. Joel got me out of a tough spot last night…”

“He could get me out of a tough spot any time,” she winked. You gaped up at her. Joel just laughed. “Sorry, sweetie! We’ve just been dying for this girl to actually come in with a man at some point. She’s been on dates, never seems to go anywhere! She’s too cute to die alone, if she doesn’t have hope none of us do.”

“No, you’re right, this restaurant is life changing,” Joel smirked at you. You went red.

“Thanks Luce, I’m going to just die here now, appreciate you,” you smiled sarcastically up at her. She just laughed.

“Usual drink, babe?” She asked. You nodded. She turned to Joel. “And for you sugar?”

“Just coffee.”

“A purist,” she snapped her gum. “Be back.”

You watched her go before groaning and burying your head in your arms.

“I really should have known better than to bring you here,” your voice was muffled. “This is really on me.”

“How often to you come here?” Joel asked, smiling as you emerged from your makeshift shelter.

“Every Saturday,” you said. “Usually like an hour before close when it’s a bit slower. I sit in….” You twisted and pointed to a small, two-seat booth in the corner. “That booth so I’m out of the way and I just people watch and have coffee and waffles and catch up with everyone here. They’re all really sweet. Plus they’ll sometimes send me home with stuff from the display case that’s getting tossed that I then use to bribe your daughter with during the week.”

“That explains the sugar highs,” he said dryly.

Luce returned, putting something frothy in front of you and a coffee in front of him.

“Whatcha eatin’?” She snapped her gum again.

“Can you do me just the hugest favor,” you bit your lip, eyes wide. Luce sighed.

“Tell me,” she said.

“Can you make the sampler for my friend here?” You asked. “He’s never been here before and he absolutely HAS to understand the depth of affection I have for the waffles.”

“Only because it’s you,” she shook her head. “I just let you get away with murder…”

“It’s because you love me,” you smiled. She just sighed. “And I’ll do… the chicken and waffles please.”

She turned to Joel.

“You’re getting a bunch of waffles sweetie,” she said. “Whatcha want with em? Eggs?”

“Scrambled.”

“Any meat?”

“Bacon.”

“Done,” she took your menus. “Don’t let her run roughshod over you like she does over me.”

“Yes ma’am,” Joel smiled.

“I’ve made so many mistakes in the last 24 hours and this might just be the worst,” you sighed, taking a sip of… whatever it is that you ordered.

“You just make friends with everyone, don’t you?” He asked, watching you across the table. Your face turned serious for a moment and then you smiled again.

“I try to,” you shrugged. “But I end up on my own most of the time. Which is totally fine, by the way, I like being by myself. Lots to do and solitude is a good way to do it.”

He nodded slowly.

“What about you?” You asked, stirring your drink with a straw. “Haven’t seen you bring many friends around. Except Tommy but family doesn’t count.”

“Not a lot of time for friends,” he shrugged. “Got work, Sarah….”

“Rescuing hapless college students.”

He smiled.

“I stay busy.”

You stirred your drink again, bobbing your head slightly, in time to a song Joel could barely hear over the buzz of people in the cramped restaurant.

“You really tell them all about your dating life?” He asked, half smiling at you.

“Oh God,” you groaned and then laughed. “Yes. But only because it’s basically non-existent and I have almost no one else to talk to about it. Luce is convinced she’s a matchmaker. Maybe I should listen to her, she’s been right every time I’ve told her about a guy I’m seeing.”

“Every time, really…” Joel’s jaw twitched a bit. He didn’t like thinking about you with other men. But he did have fun making you squirm a bit in your seat. “How many times is that, exactly?”

“Are you asking me about my love life, Joel?” You teased, leaning across the table at him.

He matched your stance, his face ending up only a few inches from your own. Even now, you smelled good. Sweet, floral. A bit like lavender.

“Curious about your track record,” he replied. You laughed.

“It’s real bad,” you said, sitting up straight again. “Jeremy was the fourth guy I’ve gone out with since I came to Texas. He’s the only one who made it to date four and we saw how THAT ended. The others weren’t QUITE so awful. One came close to being that bad but otherwise, just run of the mill not working out. Believe it or not, there aren’t a lot of guys beating down the bio-lab door to get at the teacher in training.”

Joel sat back in his seat, too.

“Men are idiots,” he shrugged. “Especially when they’re in college. They wise up when they get older.” You bit your lip for a second before shaking your head to yourself. “What?” You scrunched your nose and shook your head. “C’mon kid. What were you going to say?”

“They get better when they’re your age?” You blurted, blushing as you asked it.

He watched you for a moment.

“Like to think so.”

Luce had been right. You’d ordered him a mountain of waffles. There were three of them, each quadrant a different flavor, topped accordingly, looking like a rainbow of food in front of him. He gaped at you and you shrugged, smiling as you cut into your own. You were right, too, though. They were the best waffles he’d ever had. And he wasn’t even that crazy about fucking waffles. Luce whispered something in your ear when she gave you a hug as you were leaving and it was enough to make you swat her on the arm before going to the truck, still smiling and shaking your head when you buckled up.

Tommy asked few questions when Joel had called to ask him to come to your place and he’d beaten the two of you there, leaning against his truck.

“Hey Tommy!” You hopped out of the truck and waved. You always sounded like whoever you were greeting made your day just by being there. It never seemed fake, either. Joel didn’t understand it.

“Hey Kid,” Tommy smiled, hugging you briefly. “Heard I’m here to run interdiction.”

“Your brother is paranoid,” you rolled your eyes, absently fidgeting with the sleeves of the hoodie. Tommy noticed the bruises at your wrist in the brief second they were exposed, grabbing your hand and shoving the sleeve up your arm.

“The fuck is this?” He looked to Joel.

“It’s nothing, really,” you took your hand back and Tommy didn’t fight you on it. “Just a… misunderstanding that Joel got me out of last night, that’s all.”

“Misunderstanding my ass,” Joel muttered.

“Some guy do that?” Tommy demanded. “What, he your boyfriend? Where is he?”

“No!” You closed your eyes for a second and crossed your arms, Joel noticing the first traces of pain on your face since he’d picked you up last night. So you weren’t as OK as you looked, you were just damn good at hiding it. It passed quickly. “No, it’s just a guy I’d gone out with a few times and it just… didn’t go the way he wanted is all, it’s fine, it’s a misunderstanding, it won’t happen again, it’s fine. I promise it’s fine.”

It didn’t look settled for Tommy. Didn’t feel settled for Joel.

“That’s why we’re getting some of her stuff,” Joel said. “He knows where she lives, she’s gonna stay with Sarah n’ me until her new place is ready. Wanted you here in case he showed his face.”

“Afraid you can’t take him alone?” Tommy smirked a little. Like he knew the real reason.

“Somethin’ like that,” Joel muttered.

“OK so if the dick measuring contest is done, can we go inside and stop making a scene?” You fished your keys out of your purse. Joel’s eyebrows went up. He didn’t think he’d ever heard you say the word ‘dick’ before. Or be quite so blunt.

“Sure Kid,” Tommy said. “We’re at your service.”

“Such gallant gentlemen,” you smiled a little, leading the way to your apartment. It was on the ground floor of the small complex, a neighbor saying hi to you as you passed and giving a cagey look to the men trailing behind you.

Joel had never been inside your apartment before but, when he stepped inside, he imagined it was what it would be like to step into your mind.

Everything was light and bright with soft things everywhere - a blanket draped over the back of the couch, pillows on a beanbag in the corner. There was a small cluster of plants on your windowsill and Christmas lights framing your bookshelves which were loaded down to the point that the boards were sagging in the middle.

“Give me like five minutes to get changed?” You said, setting your purse down on the small breakfast bar that looked to serve as your only dining space. “Make yourselves comfortable, help yourself to anything…”

You disappeared down the short hall and Joel took a minute to indulge his curiosity. He started with your bookshelf, the most worn copies. “Pride and Prejudice” looked like it was hanging on by a thread, the spine barely readable. He almost laughed. That fit you. “The Bell Jar” was also particularly worn. He hadn’t read that one, so he pulled it off the shelf and looked at the back, frowning. This seemed less like you. Or what he knew of you. He put it back. There were a lot of books on your shelf he didn’t know, and a lot that were in French that he may have known something about but fuck if he could tell what they were.

You didn’t have many pictures, something he found oddly disappointing. There was one photo you’d framed of you with a girl who was the same age but it was years old, you couldn’t have been more than 15 in it. The few others there were looked to just be photos of you with an older woman, who must be your grandmother. There was a painting on the wall next to the bookshelf, almost too big for the space. A lavender farm. Of course it was.

“I painted that.”

Joel hadn’t noticed you come back in. You were still tying your mass of hair on the top of your head, wearing jeans and a threadbare t-shirt and the canvas tennis shoes you wore with fucking everything - the damn sundresses, the shorts that drove him crazy. He looked back to the painting.

“It’s good,” he said. He wasn’t lying. He’d have never guessed you hadn’t bought it somewhere.

“It’s that lavender farm, near my grandma’s place?” You stood next to him, looking at the painting. “Anyway, safe to say that can stay for now. Is it OK if I bring my plants? I don’t want them to drop dead because I’m not watering them when they need…”

“Sure, Kid,” Joel smiled a little at you. “We’ll find a spot for them.”

You looked relieved, finding a big, plastic tub to pack the plants in before going back to your bedroom. Joel followed you there and you handed him a worn duffle bag as you started to grab things to pack. Your bedroom, like the rest of your home, was you personified. There was a quilt on the bed that had to be about as old as you, tiny flowers covering the thing. The windows had frothy, white curtains, your bed had about six too many pillows. Stack of books on the nightstand, pressed framed flowers on the walls. All sweetness and softness and light.

“Can you…” your face scrunched. “Close your eyes for just a sec?”

Your hand hovered by a dresser drawer. He laughed.

“Sure, Kid,” he obeyed, closing his eyes. “Pack your underwear without this old man watchin’.”

“Not that old,” you muttered. He smiled, resisting the urge to sneak a peek at what it is you wore under those little dresses.

It didn’t take long for you to gather your things, you turning in circles in each room a few times, muttering to yourself before nodding once, a sense of finality to it.

“We can always come back if you forget somethin’,” Joel said. “But that’s a ‘we,’ no comin’ here on your own.”

“I know,” you nodded. “But still, trying to avoid leaving stuff for school behind. I have exams soon, I need to study… Think I’m good, though.”

You grab your purse and one of the three bags you’ve filled with the things you’ll need to survive a few weeks with Joel and Sarah. Joel grabs the other two, Tommy the box of plants and you fill up the bed of Joel’s truck. You’re about to get in your old car - a beater from the early 80s that Joel is still amazed made it from upstate New York to Texas in the first place - when a late model Ford F-150 that’s never done a day of work in its life pulled into the lot, closing your car in. You froze, a deer in headlights, as the fuckin’ guy from the night before stalked over to you and threw you against your car.

Joel was over to you before he even realized he was moving, pulling the man away from you and shoving him to the ground.

“What’d I tell you, boy?” He growled, pulling a fist back and bringing it down on his face. “Told you I’d kill you if you touched her again, didn’t I?”

Joel hit him again, the man trying to protect his face, and he pulled his fist back to hit him again when you caught it, pulling him back.

“Joel!” You were yelling it, like you’d been screaming it for a minute. Maybe you had been. Tommy was on him then, too, pulling him off the man on the ground. “He’s not worth it, Joel, he’s not worth it…”

Joel got to his feet, breathless, the man on the ground curled in on himself. He turned to you, your eyes still wide. He wanted to hug you, hold you close. Instead, he just looked at you.

“You OK?” He asked after a moment. You nodded once. He turned back to the man on the ground. “Take your truck and get the fuck out of here.”

The man scrambled to obey and you watched, your body stiff, until he was out of sight. You deflated a bit when he was gone, the hint of a tear at the corner of your eye.

“You’re OK Kid,” Joel said quietly. You looked at him, your eyes wide, trusting. “I’ll keep you safe. You’re OK.”

You looked at him like you believed him.

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x oc #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller father figure #joel miller fluff #fluff #f!reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader

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1427 · 8 months ago

Text

When the Levee Breaks (pt. 4)

Daryl Dixon x OFC

The one in which a stripper that used to know Merle and Daryl shows up at the Atlanta camp. Daryl’s feelings are complicated but mostly he hates her, right?

Chapt. Setting: Highway outside of Atlanta.

Chapt. Warnings: degrading and sexist language, degrading behavior, season 2 Daryl, smut, oral (m receiving)(kind of) weird. Just weirdo perv (out of desperation) Daryl.

Word Count: 3200

A/N; Daryl’s POV 😩🤷‍♀️ 17+ mdni

masterlist

Been keepin’ Merle’s stuff pretty well hidden. Guess I should probably just get rid of it, right? But I can’t. S’not mine to get rid of. So I just hide it. Separate bag from the rest of his meds, all the way at the bottom of a backpack, stuffed under the seat of my truck.

Beatle says she’s been sober off spazz shit for three years. Pretty sure three years ago s’when I met her though, so I’unno how she figures that.

But now we’re ditchin’ the truck and I gotta find a way to carry it without Beatle finding it. Don’t even have time to be upset about my truck. Had it for at least the last ten years. Loved this thing like it was the only thing I had. Basically was for a while.

Takin’ Merles bike. It’s got some dumbass Nazi shit on it, but ‘m not complainin’. That shit don’t matter anymore. Neither does bein’ upset over a truck that’s not gonna do me any good without gas.

Pack myself two bags. One goes with Beatle in Dale’s RV, the other is the pack I’d had stuffed under the seat. Spazz gets hidden underneath a few shirts, smokes, the couple sips left of girlwhiskey, and the rest of Merle’s scripts. Stuff I don’t trust Beatle with.

I think she knows, too. She doesn’t say it but she gives me a look when I tell her ‘m holdin’ onto it. I offer her a whole cigarette. All for herself. And it shuts her up enough not to push it.

Don’t know if I like when she’s happy or not. Kinda makes me feel sick so I try not to think about it. Dunno. Whatever. Don’t got time to think about that shit anyway. S’always somethin’.

Don’t really even got the time to think about what a shit show the CDC was. Just gotta keep movin’. Guess the plan is Fort Bennet? Don’t know. Don’t care. ‘m just goin’.

It’s nice to be back on a bike again. Can’t feel nothin’ but the vibrating underneath me and the air in my face. Can’t hear nothin’ but the engine. By myself. Like all this shit hasn’t happened…

No use in thinkin’ ‘bout it that way, though. Has happened. And I ain’t gonna be one of those sorry sacks that wants to pretend shit ain’t the way it is. That’s one thing I like Beatle for. She don’t pretend shits gonna go back. Don’t miss nothin’, ain’t lookin’ for no one. Far as I see it, she’s happy mostly. Guess it’s easy when someone’s takin’ care of everything for ya. Me. Giving her my smokes and buildin’ fires for my damn self, thinkin’ everything tha’s mine is hers. It ain’t.

Other people makin’ plans. Other people findin’ shelter. Other peoples food.

Too many people in this group ain’t pullin’ their own weight. It’s gonna catch up sooner or later. Beatle’s a weak player. Can’t decide if I should help her out or not. Can’t decide if I should protect her or not. Cuz she don’t want it, she don’t think she needs it. But she’s gonna need it. Sooner or later.

Cuz I know I hate her and all that. Dumb fuckin’ bitch for sure. But after what happened at the CDC? Thought we were gonna die. Thought she was gonna die. Fuck. I’unno. Guess I felt somethin’.

I’m in between knowin’ it and hatin’ it. It can be both right? Cuz it’s definitely both. One more thing I gotta care about. Real fuckin’ stupid.

We’re only on the road a few hours before shit blows. Literally. Dales radiator. Good ‘n done. Then more bullshit happens but ain’t that the way shit is now?

A whole herd of ‘em come through and everyone’s fine. Andrea’s havin’ a panic attack ‘bout the geek that almost ate ‘er, Carol’s kid run off into the woods, and T-Dog’s all but bled out. But to me? Basically fine. No one’s dead or nothin’.

Don’t know where Beatle was when the herd came. But she’s fine too, and any worryin’ I’d been doin was a waste of fuckin’ time. Not gonna waste any more of it bein’ mad I was worried in the first place. That I couldn’t think ‘bout anything else. Just images of her stupid happy face gettin’ ripped apart. Guess I care now. At least ‘bout her not bein’ dead. ‘Bout her bein’ here.

She’s standin’ outside the RV with me, sharing a cigarette cuz I don’t know how else to tell her I’m glad she’s alive. Can’t stop lookin’ at her. She’s either ignoring my staring or pretendin’ I ain’t doin’ it, and ‘m grateful. Don’t wanna talk ‘bout that shit. Just wanna look at her, and fix all those images in my head. Her face still happy and perfect and smilin’ at me like it wasn’t bein’ eaten by monsters a few minutes ago.

I feel sick. Somethin’… different.

“Can I just hug you, please?” She asks like she’s been waitin’ to say it.

“Why?” I squint at her, dragging the smoke. Kinda want to - kinda mad she asked instead of just doin’ it, “Since when do you ask permi-“ I’m cut off by her body wrapped around mine. All four limbs holdin’ on like I’m keepin’ her anchored to the world.

I hug her back, arms pulled tight around her. Why am I doing this? What the fuck is this? Goin’ fuckin’ soft for some dumb little girl. I can hear Merle laughin’ at me from inside my head, and I drop Beatle back down to the pavement.

“I’m glad you’re alive.” She says, and I look down at her. Now she’s all covered in the gross shit I’m covered in. She doesn’t seem to care. Doesn’t even seem to notice.

“Yeah?” I say at her, cuz I don’t know what else to say. Can’t tell her Im glad she’s alive. Can’t give her that. I hugged her back, that’s enough. She should know.

She nods, smiling that stupid fuckin’ smile that I’m startin’ to like. ‘Fore her face starts wrinklin’ up somethin’ nasty. There it is. She looks at me, then down at herself. “What the fuck, Daryl?”

Me?! “‘Pleeeease can I hug you, Daryl?’” I mock her.

“I was worried!! And then you’re alive and okay and I didn’t have time to look at you covered in guts and shit!” She squeals. I swear she knows it irritates me. I can see her goin’ to punch me in the arm so I let her, then pull her into another hug.

Grabbin’ at her head to bring it close to my chest, covered in week old decaying monster meat, “C’mon, Beatle. Gimme a hug!” She’s tryin’ to fight it but ‘m stronger.

She bends her knees and slips down and out of my arms. The blood on my hands making her too slippery to hold onto. She starts runnin’. I run after her til we get to the side of the road and she tries to hide underneath the trunk of a car crashed into the rail.

Maybe this ain’t the time for fuckin’ around, but it don’t matter. Not when I finally got her cornered. The look of fear in her eyes does somethin’ to me. Not real fear. Naw, cuz she’s smilin’. Cuz she’s laughin’. Just excited that we’re both still breathing. Still, smile on her face and laugh in her throat, she’s cowering beneath a cars trunk, beggin’ me to stop. The beggin’s doin’ somethin’ to me too. Fuck.

I pick her up, slingin’ her over my shoulder, she yelps. Don’t she know how this shit works yet? “Fuckin’ quiet, Beatle. Dumb bitch.” I slap her ass once and she fuckin’ yelps again. “Wha’ did I just say?” And I slap her ass again. This time she’s quiet.

Shit, that worked? Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. My dicks hard.

I’unno if it’s cuz I never carried a girl over my shoulder like this, cuz I spanked her couple times, or cuz she listened. My dick gets even harder and I realize it’s definitely fuckin’ all of it. But mostly that she listened when I told her what to do. Maybe I should tell her what to do more often. Fuck. ‘m not helpin’ myself, or my problem, at all.

I dip my head down to smell the sick I’m covered in to make it go away. It works. Even with her ass next to my face. So close I could bite it. For fucks sake. I put her down but she doesn’t run away this time. We walk slowly back to the group. Not sayin’ nothin’. Me, cuz I’m trying to focus on the smell of rotten flesh and definitely not Beatle beggin’ me to stop. Definitely not about what her face looked like when she felt my hand on her ass.

Wonder if she’s quiet cuz she’s thinkin’ about it too.

Wondering what she’s thinkin’ about and tryin’ to will away a stiffy. Fuck this fuckin’ high school bullshit. Like she reads my mind, I feel her needy little fingers snake into my hand. For a second I think maybe I’m smokin’ a cigarette I don’t remember havin’ but ‘m not. She’s just tryin’ to hold my hand.

At first it feels nice, and then I feel sick again. Too many questions unanswered. Too much shit that’s already happened. Can’t trust her. So I shake her hand off, “Stop.”

“Fine. Fuck you.” She stomps away and back into the RV. I’unno what the fuck’s wrong with me that it makes me smile. Do I like when she’s happy? Shit, I dunno. If I did, wouldn’t I not like it when she’s upset? So why does her being mad at me do it for me too?

✨🏹

Whatever.

She comes with me to go look for Sophia. Andrea stood up like she was gonna come too, but once Beatle and I are standin’ next to the RV Andrea doesn’t follow us out.

We don’t stray too far from the road. It’s dark, and mostly just came out here to help ease Carol’s mind. ‘m definitely goin’ soft. But I’unno. Hurts to watch people lose stuff. Their families. Hurts to watch people hurt.

Gonna hurt Beatle in a fuckin’ second if she doesn’t shut the fuck up. We’re walkin’ through the woods. At night. She’s gotta know this shit by now. “Beatle, keep your fuckin’ voice down. Please.” Did I just say please? Fuck me.

“Did you just say ‘please’?” Fuck. Me.

“Shut up.”

“Don’t think I know how.”

“Yeah, no shit.” She laughs, and it makes me smile. And that makes me feel sick to my stomach. Again.

Her voice cuts through while I’m makin’ myself even sicker thinkin’ about it, “You wanna play another game?”

My eyebrows raise in her direction, “Yeah, that went real well for ya last time.”

“Nevermind.” Her face falters and she crosses her arms across her chest.

“What, you don’t wanna get half naked and cry again?” And for fuckin’ once I wish Beatle had somethin’ to say back. Some smartass shit that isn’t even funny but she definitely means it to be. But she doesn’t. She doesn’t say anything. She just lets my question hang in the fuckin’ air and suffocate me. Cuz now I’m thinkin’ about her half naked and crying and my fuckin dicks hard again. What is this shit? Rock hard cock every time I pick on her now? ‘m not gonna be able to do this. She’s gonna notice. Where the fuck is a guy supposed to jerk off and relieve some of this shit?

On her fuckin’ face.

Shit.

She’s been quiet for too long and my brain won’t stop. It’s just getting worse. Images of her now, her face covered in my cum, her lips humming together making little bubbles with it, smiling. Shit.

Beatle, say something. Anything.

“How big’s your dick?” Not. Fucking. That.

She listens… right? She wants it, right? Why else would she ask that? Now, when it’s just the two of us out in the woods in the dark. She wants me to show her.

So show her.

“Beatle.” My voice is low, barely there. Just a rasp of a word.

She turns around, ready to explain herself before she even looks at me, “I-“

“C’mere.” If I don’t cut her off she’s gonna say she was just jokin’ but we both know she ain’t jokin’. She wants ta know. So she’s gonna know.

Feel like I can see her blushin’ in the moonlight as she walks toward me, even though I can’t. Just know she is. Smile on her face like I ain’t about to wipe it off with my cock. Shit, hard as a fuckin’ rock right now. I rub my palm over the length of it, and I watch her eyes follow my arm down. Watch ‘em get bigger, wide and nervous, and it makes my dick twitch against my jeans. I pull out a smoke and light one, for a second I see a disappointment in her face, thinkin’ maybe I’d just called her over to share a smoke. Naw. “Down on your knees.”

And Jesus Christ, does she kneel so fuckin’ fast. She stares straight ahead, and somethin’ comes over me. Can’t wait. Don’t want to. Don’t need to. Beatle does what I ask, at least when it comes to this. Like a good little slut would. That is what she’s good at, ain’t it?

So maybe it’s a little fucked up that I grab her head and force her against the rough fabric of my jeans. Pushing my cock into her cheek as hard as I fuckin’ can. Holding her by the hair and rubbing her face on me.

But this little bitch moans. At first I wasn’t sure, but she keeps fuckin’ moaning. She likes this. Somethin’ close to a laugh escapes my throat, past the cigarette between my lips. I take it with my fingers, letting one hand go from her head, the other hand pulls her back to look up at me. Her expression absolutely blown. She just looks at me for a second, before putting her face back on my cock on her own. It’s not the same amount of pressure but it still feels fuckin’ good. And somethin’ about her doin’ it on her own. Like she can’t fuckin’ help it. Like she needs it.

She’s starts to lick at the fabric right where my head is and my dick spasms again at the sight of it. This time she can feel it underneath her mouth. She smiles up at me, smirkin’ down at her. Putting the cigarette in my mouth, I drag it, before bringing it down to her lips. A little reward for listening.

She drags it once and I drop it on the ground. Beatle says “Thank you.” In the smallest voice I ever heard come out of her mouth. Fuck. I could fall in love with this Beatle. It’s just your dick talkin’ Dar, don’t get crazy.

I grunt a laugh and start to unbuckle my belt. Unbutton my pants. Barely have my cock in my hand ‘fore her mouths around it. I pull her back by her hair, sharply. She winces in pain and reaches up to her head where I’m holdin’ on. Her eyes shoot up to look at me.

God, fuck, what I wouldn’t give to have that image burned in my brain for the rest of my life. Her face, all discomfort and contempt because I won’t let her touch me. Like she’s fuckin’ dying for it. “Nah, keep your mouth shut Beatle. Gotta learn ta do what yer told.”

She nods, and closes her lips. Looking from my eyes back down my body again. I lean back, takin’ myself in my hand and pressing my cock into her face.

For a while I just rub myself all over, letting her feel the weight of it. Letting her know just how big it really fuckin’ is. Lifting it off her face and smackin’ her cheeks. Makin’ her flinch, her eyes squish closed but I press my hard cock against her eye and push up forcing her eyelid open. Fuck. I do the same thing with her lips. Smushing and rubbing the head of it into her lips to open them, I fuck against her mouth for a second. Beatles groaning and moaning but she doesn’t open her mouth. Somethin’ about it makes me need to cum. Now. No more fuckin’ around. “Open up.”

She does. I spit into her open mouth, and she moans again, without swallowing it. Like a good slut. “Fuck, Beatle. Shit. Now stick your tongue out.”

She does. I can see my spit falling off her tongue and I quickly catch it with my cock, before smearing as much of the slick spit from her mouth onto me. Taking myself from the base, holding hard to cut off the circulation. Always feels better when I do that. Rubbin her tongue with my cock til I can’t fuckin take it anymore. I’m about to fuckin’ cum. I pull away for only a second, my breathings all fucked and I can barely speak, “Close yer mouth.” She looks confused for a second but closes her mouth. Good. Was about to smack her.

My left hand finds a place on the back of her head again, gripping into her hair to hold her in place. I push my hips forward and put the whole length across her face. My other hand pressing myself down into her from above her. And I fuck myself on her face. Grunting and sloppy and desperate to cum. Never done this before, shit, does anyone do this? But fuck, it’s so fuckin’ hot. Her lips and her cheeks and her eyelids and her nose all squished and being fuckin’ ruined by my cock. Shit. Fuck.

Right as I’m about to cum I put both hands around her head and hump her face like… I don’t even know. I feel fuckin’ insane, but she’s still moaning at the feeling of being used. Not even in a way that should be enjoyable to her.

I don’t think I’ve ever cum that much in my whole fuckin’ life. Most of it ends up in Beatle’s hair, but there’s still a whole lot of it on her face. I mess with it for a second. Swirling my puffy post-nut dick in it before I get oversensitive.

I put myself away, and sit down on the ground next to Beatle. Still in the exact same position. I let her kneel there, don’t tell her she can move or nothin’. Guess that’s why she doesn’t. Don’t think she can open her eyes either. S’funny.

Relighting the short I’d dropped to the ground, I pull a bandana from my pocket. “Is it big, Beatle?” I ask her while I wipe only her mouth off, and put the cigarette between her lips.

She sucks on the filter, and smiles. “Yep.”

Eventually I wipe off her eyes too. Can’t do anything about her hair though, so I promise to find her a hat from one of the cars on the walk back.

And I don’t let myself think about what this might mean. Who cares? I don’t. Don’t think Beatle does neither. We’re just goin’.

pt 5

A/N: Yeah okay, I know. Daryl’s all back and forth. Does he not give a shit about Merle and Beatle? Does he know deep down they never did anything together? Or maybe he just wasn’t thinking about it at the time? He’s confused, guys. He also really doesn’t have all the information (Eventually he’s gonna ask but first we have to deal with Sophia. Sorry. I don’t want to either.)

#daryl dixon smut #daryl dixon fanfiction #twd daryl #the walking dead daryl #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x oc #daryl dixon imagine

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