#facial care after 40

[tossball-stick]

what? no. vaughn doesnt have visible abs. huh? neither does rhys. they never have. what are you on about? yeah, theyre like, normal people. theyve got some pretty soft tummies actually. yeah, sure, vaughns less so. but rhys? yeah sorry hes actually a little flabby around the stomach. like a normal 40 year old, yeah. mhm and hes got hair there too. and on his chest yeah, his face too. yeah ive seen people posting about some aus where hes never had a moustache for some reason?? what weirdos

[littleapplle]

00:40.

I feel like a lot of people forget just how romantic rafayel is and can be.

Because sensuality comes with ease to him. He's a creature from the deep, incarnated in the body sculpted by the waves that break harshly against the rocks close to the shore, with the facial features of a god, surely hand painted with care by sea nymphs.

And before being something worthy of unending worship and adoration, the kind you'd drop on your knees, pray, praise, and bowl in respect, Rafayel is an artist.

Beside the inextinguishable flame in his heart, there is the burning passion of performing. Not literally, but Rafayel is something big, meant to be seen. Love and seduction come with ease to a being like him. His tongue is sharp but always drips with honey when you need it the most, and his bicolor hues burn with nothing but pure, genuine dedication.

So when you call him after work, voice low and strangled like a tormented sailor during a harsh storm, he listens. Waiting for the right moment to lure you in like a siren. Not out of malice, never, just the urge to tend to your troubled, seafarer mind.

And once you arrive at his studio, dragged in by his lovely voice, he's already waiting for your arrival in a silky robe, a bottle of wine in one hand while the other holds two crystal glasses.

Moonlight peeks through the thin, light fabric of the curtains adorning the tall windows of the studio. He guides you to the bathroom, and you wonder for a moment how much air can his lungs actually hold in. His humming, lullaby like, never stops.

His steps are light. If it weren't for his sweet voice, you'd barely be able to spot him in the dark corridor. The bathroom door is ajar, letting the candles’ flames finally give you a proper view of your lover.

You don't process if it's tiredness, his voice or both that make your brain grow foggy and your eyes droopy but you pay no mind, giving yourself entirely to him as an act of trust, a prayer to the one you worship with fervor.

His hands handle you with genuine care. His lips meet the back of your neck, and his nose fits just right on nape. Like a piece of a shattered porcelain art piece that slowly comes all together once again.

With his help and guidance, your dirty uniform falls on the floor. Your bare body is barely illuminated by the shaky flames burning the candles’ wick.

You're the first one to sink into the warm, scented water on his stupidly large tub. The atmosphere is too cozy, and soon, your mind finds ease and well-deserved rest.

Rafayel's eyes stare at you with a loving gaze. The intimacy that doesn't necessarily need to be sexual to feel good. That's where he feels at home.

His siren melody falters, giving space for a chuckle to leave his throat once he notices your sleepy form.

Silently, his robes come undone, and he joins you on the bathtub, a glass in hand. Sipping the velvety liquid, he guides your limp body closer to his, worried you'll slip and choke on soapy water while sleeping.

Rafayel is a sly, smart siren that lures you in when you need it the most. Rafayel is the artist that has you as his muse. Rafayel is the man who puts on extra performances like this as acts of praise.

And he wouldn't have it in any other way.

I wrote this in an hour while watching tiktok uhmm

[pedgito]

𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐃𝐎𝐕𝐄 | Marcus Acacius x reader

↝ masterlist | requests? | ao3 | update blog | fic rec | ko-fi

summary | once your dad's greatest friend, now his greatest enemy. you cannot shake the desire and care you feel for the fallen general, even as he heads toward death.

author's note | LISTEN, none of this is going to be accurate. and frankly idc, i'm horny i needed to write this do not come at me. no source material? idc i'm still writing it. anyways, enjoy the p*rn. (if you're reading this prior to the movie coming out, none of this is canon. this is just an idea that i wanted to write and felt like posting, if you do not like the idea of writing without source material, please do not engage or send me asks to be combative, they will be deleted. i won't be continuing this specific fic and will not be writing for him again until the movie comes out.)

content warning | 18+ smut, this is dbf for the gladiator girlies (gn), sneaking around, descriptions of smut, oral (f receiving), fingering, unprotected piv, creampies, breeding kink, age gap (reader is early 20s, marcus is late 40s/early 50s), alcohol tw, innocence kink

word count —2k

You knew he would be here soon, he must. 

You curled into the dark corners of the arena hall, having been here since dawn with your own father, a high military commander who struck down Marcus as punishment for such things even he wouldn’t tell you about. You knew nothing, heard nothing—you weren’t allowed such privilege. 

It has been days since you last saw him—Marcus. General Acacius to many, another esteemed leader amongst the masses, and a once great friend to your father. Though, that was no longer.

You often called him sir, finding that General Acacius was quite the mouthful. Or often just General, but his endearment toward you was blatant and he insists, almost pleading that you drop the formality when alone. Which was easier, as your fondness of him grew.

It started at a celebration, one of the many grand parties thrown in celebration of fight won or any reason for the men to drink, but Marcus liked to linger. Often tucked away in a corner watching the madness unfold, you were too curious to stay locked up in your room.

The first night he caught your eye, it was a smile around the edge of his silver goblet drowning in red wine, a hand crossed over his chest as he watched you slip away in fear that he may say something to your father.

But, he never did.

For weeks after, it progresses. From a smile, to a lingering gaze, eventually he finds himself inching closer to you, week by week. Until one night he finally finds the courage in himself to be waiting by the corner you often sneak around, watching curiously.

“You are pushing it, dove.” He speaks softly, his eyes downturned to look at you from the step he was on above you, slowly inching down until he was level, “if he catches you—”

“He hasn’t,” You tell him in a clipped, hushed tone, “and you haven’t said anything. You won’t….will you?”

He bypasses the question, “Why do you come here?” Marcus curiously asks, “These men, they are—animals, if they see you dressed like that, they would not hesitate to—”

You had on a pale nightgown, thin and barely enough to cover your modesty but it was enough. The sticky, summer heat prickled your skin, formed a line of sweat across your brow and you huffed out at his words, “My father would murder them. Besides, you are not like them. So, why do you linger here?”

He was much more than a friend, closer and akin to family. 

But, he had his own troubles. Stepson, a wife, he should be away caring for them. Yet, he was there with a disgruntled scowl and eyes only set on you.

“Why not?” He shrugs, “It is…quite entertaining. Isn’t that why you sneak around here to watch?”

You mimic his shrug, shying away slightly as you pull away to leave, but his hand catches your wrist, his cup placed in the gap of pillars separating you both. His facial expressions show an internal battle of thought, like he’s fighting against the bad and hoping the good would win out.

Unfortunately, the bad prevails.

“Let us walk,” He tells you, nodding toward the exit a few feet away, “if you would accompany me?”

You nod eagerly, switching the grip on your wrist to curl around his bicep, muscular and hard from years of fight training. He flexes slightly at the touch, covering his free hand over yours in a comforting gesture. 

He made you feel safe. And that was all that mattered to you.

—

The walk was the first mistake.

It wasn’t more than a few minutes before you found yourself tucked away by a nearby tent, unbuckling and unfastening Marcus out of his gear hastily before he fucked you under your nightgown—gentle but firm. He was the first man, the first ever to have you in such a way. You’d told him so as your hands shook under the weight of his gaze, the taste of bitter wine on his lips. He’d kissed you as he pushed his cock inside of you and didn’t stop until you were tipping over the edge.

Over time, you grow bolder. Sneaking him back into your home was easy, knowing the guards weren’t as watchful in the late, late hours of the night. It was dangerous, reckless, but as you tug him down into the cellar and sink to your knees, it all fades away quickly.

His little dove, he often calls you. Sweet dove, so pure and innocent. His hand caresses your chin as you swallow him down, eyes locked on his half-lidded gaze before he comes down your throat, nose scrunching up slightly and his brow furrowing, biting at the back of his other hand to muffle the groan that escapes him.

It was always like this—hurried and quick fucks that didn’t diminish the feeling, but reminded you how easily you could both be caught. It continues for months…and months, until suddenly he stops coming around.

No parties, no visits—Marcus had become a ghost.

But, enough digging had led you here, tucked away in the shadows again—but watching as he fought for his life. The other man was much older, weaker, and Marcus struck him down within a matter of minutes, blood splattering across his face as he stuck again and again, bashing the poor man’s skull in until it was nothing, teeth gritting as his body surged with adrenaline.

Gladiator fighting wasn’t a new thing—and you knew he wasn’t the only one, but why?

He’s making his way down the arena toward the pillar you are tucked behind unknowingly, alone and battered as the guards run off to dispose of the body. You aren’t sure where Marcus is going now or when you would see him again, but you take the chance when you know no one is watching, grabbing him by the armor plate on his chest and pulling him away and into a dusty closet, knocking into a stack of buckets in the process.

You gasp as his hand wraps around your neck, fist cocked back in preparation of an attack.

But, then his eyes land on you.

“Dove, what are you—”

You shush him quickly, hands molding against his face and the dried blood, his breathing quick and short as you attempt to calm him.

“I had to see you—I thought���I thought you had—”

“I might as well be,” Marcus replies somberly, “we cannot meet like this. We cannot meet at all.”

“It’s fine, It’s fine–” You assure him, reaching forward to press your lips against his.

Marcus pulls away hesitantly, grabbing your face roughly until you look at him, eyes widening.

“They will kill you. I cannot see you again. I should not even be here with you.”

Your eyes well with tears, forcing yourself forward again to capture his lips and this time he allows it, opening his mouth slightly as your tongue dips inside, working silently at the buckles to his chest plate.

“No talking. Let us…enjoy this. If it is the last time.”

You were both well aware—he would fight for his life or die, that was it. And he would fight until that point came. He was no longer a General, completely stripped of his power. But, he was still Marcus. And you would hold onto that for as long as you could.

He’s shaking, the adrenaline raking his body and making him restless as you kissed him, tongue dipping into his mouth again as his hands roamed, squeezed, caressed. 

“I will not break,” You whisper into his mouth, “take what you need, Marcus.”

It was all he needed to hear, turning you around swiftly and forcing your down with a hand against your back, arms pressing into the shelf in front of you as he pushed up the silk, carefully woven and intricate fabric of your dress—so pristine and perfect. He wanted to rip it off you, be he refrains, squeezing at your hips while he kneels behind you.

“Marcus, you need not—”

“Quiet, little dove. Let me have this,” He licks against your cunt hungrily, noisy slurps as he lapped you up, squeezing less than gentle at the inside of your thighs as they shook, his tongue swiping over your clit, a broken moan slipping past your lips, “beautiful—let me hear you.”

“Marcus,” You plea, his fingers joining his tongue as they breached you and drag against the soft, but incredibly sensitive spot inside of you, your hand reaching for his wrist tucked between your legs as you whined out his name once more, twice, until your legs gave out, feelings his strong, broad shoulders flexing as he used his brute strength to keep you upright, licking up the gush of fluids that leak out of you, rising with haste and untucking himself from his garments, wrapping a gentle hand around the back of your neck before he’s pulling you upright harshly.

“Want to leave you something,” He whispers against the shell of your ear, “something to remember me, if I shall never leave here. Something of me for you to carry on. Alright, sweet dove?”

You nod knowingly, as Marcus had always been careful to pull himself out before breaching that point. He was always careful, hesitant—but being on the brink of death, he found himself careless and desperate. He couldn’t let you go.

He slips inside of you with a hand tucked around your throat, pulling your back to his chest as he snapped his hips into you firmly, groaning lewdly into the side of your neck as he bit down, squeezing at your throat with every soft sound you made and you want it just as bad, forcing your hips back into every push of his cock—you were positive this pain would last you into next week, but you needed that reminder. His fingers dip into your skin, hard and uncaring and sure to leave marks, but that was what you wanted.

And his groans quickly turn needy, more high-pitched than you’ve ever heard them

He’s holding back, restraining himself. You turn your head, catching his heated gaze as he pants, your thumb tracing over his lip. His hand drags over your stomach, rests, curious of how beautiful you would look swollen and carrying his child. 

It is a hopeful and distant dream, one that he will never foresee.

“Give it to me, Marcus,” You beg him, “I want it.”

It so easily undoes him, “Take it, my dove,” He growls, coming deep inside of you with a shaky thrust of his hips, squeezing you tight against him, “I think of you, always. You must know—know that.” 

It pulls at your heart, tugs in a way that makes your entire body ache. He pulls out with a low grunt, silently tucking himself away as you adjust your dress.

“And I love you,” You admit, watching as his gaze pulls up quickly, “even if you cannot say it back. I know. I know you do.”

Marcus breathes harshly through his nose, crowding you once more but it is soothed by a gentle kiss, “You need to leave—do not come back here.”

“Marcus,” You counter, sadness lacing your tone.

“If, by some miracle, I make it out of here,” He drags his thumb along your jawline, pausing on his words as he looks you over, memorizes you, “I will find you.”

You nod jerkily, eyes never breaking from his, “Just like you always have.”

divider creds: @/cafekitsune

thanks to @chaotic-mystery & @pr0ximamidnight for being the absolute best friends ever and beta'ing this for me on a moments notice, ily both.

[aestherin]

KEEP MY HEART

goal 40: good luck

NOTE: another christmas gift hehe 💞 happy holidays everyone <3

PS. i love them (scarayn) your honor :((

You felt a little bad while wishing Kazuha his good lucks when you went with him to the stadium.

Half of the reason was because you felt traitorous wishing him good luck when later, he might find you on the opponent's bleachers. Half of it was because you knew your wishes of luck for you brother were half-hearted — because half of you hoped that your lover could win this time.

You let out a big sigh as you two walked towards his team, which caught Kazuha's attention.

"Why are you sighing like that? You're even more nervous than the one who'd actually play!" He joked, attempting to lighten up your mood.

"I'm not nervous!"

"You are."

"Am not!"

"Are."

You rolled your eyes, having long forgotten the conflict you were feeling just seconds prior. "I told you, I —"

"Captain! There you are!" Venti exclaimed as soon as you and your brother got close enough to them. "Oh, [Name], hi! Long time no see!"

You smiled and waved at them. The team reciprocated your gesture, but you noticed a particular dark green-haired man with golden eyes avoid your gaze.

"Xiao!" You called out. "Good luck!"

He stiffened. At the specific mention of his name, he had no choice but to turn to you. Venti tried to stifle a laugh, but his weird facial expression right now is a proof of his failure.

"You're so cruel," Xiao mumbled. Really, he was finally trying to move on from his suppressed feelings, and now you give him his own 'good luck'?

You are so cruel. And the worst part is that you don't even know.

"Huh?"

"Nothing." He managed to flash a small smile. "I said thank you."

"Oh, okay!"

You noticed Venti patting Xiao's back apologetically while still holding back a laugh before you turned away. You started observing your surroundings — Xiao swatting away Venti's hands, your brother occupied by his teammates...

Now was the perfect moment to sneak away.

Making sure you were not seen, you slowly distanced yourself from your own university's varsity team. You put on a white baseball cap, which goes perfectly with your boyfriend's jersey that you've kept perfectly hidden underneath your oversized red jacket.

'Ugh, the lengths I go to!' You complained. 'Why do they belong in different teams?'

If you had known your future boyfriend would be from University of Inazuma's football team, you would have done everything to convince your brother to accept the university's offer after he had passed their entrance examinations.

If he and Kuni were in the same team, would they be friends like your boyfriend is with Heizou and Aether?

Unfortunately, the halls in the stadium were not sufficient to accommodate your musings. Soon enough, you found yourself welcomed by navy blue cheering balloons and bleachers displaying waves of blue with occasional whites — a stark contrast to the abundance of maroon placards and shirts from where you originally came from.

Although being aware that you aren't as popular as your brother, you still feared the possibility of someone recognizing you. You made another effort to lower your cap more as you unzipped your jacket, letting your boyfriend's jersey be visible.

People kept giving you weird glances, perhaps due to your jacket being red despite being in the blue team's wing.

But you couldn't care less.

You wanted to also somehow show support for your brother, even in just small ways.

After faithfully referring to the ticket that Kuni had previously handed you, you soon found the section where you were supposed to be settled in.

A familiar long, braided purple hair demanded your attention right off the bat as you went through the VIP gate. Around her, several men clad in navy blue varsity jackets and a few already in their jerseys were huddled around.

You smiled, admiring how your boyfriend's brows were furrowed. Not in frustration, however. This time, it was in concentration.

As Coach Ei took her time giving her final reminders, you sneakily made your way into your seat, which you noticed was directly right behind a player's seat currently occupied by a very familiar sports bag.

You busied yourself with your phone, first texting your brother and then his friends one final 'good luck'. Your seemingly endless loop of scrolling through your feed then came to a stop as you heard some shuffling.

"Hey."

You looked up, only to see your boyfriend looming over with a grin, one knee kneeling on the seat right in front of you. His right arm resting on the seat's backrest, and the other on his thigh.

"Hey," you breathed.

"My jersey looks the best on you."

"I know," you jokingly replied.

"Don't we all know?" A certain maroon-head butted in. "He's been telling us that nonstop ever since he gave you one of his jerseys!"

"Hi [Name]! Nice to finally meet you," said the sunshine-haired boy. "I'm Aether, Scara's friend. Also a midfielder."

"Hi!"

Kuni's other friend grabbed your hands and shook them aggressively. "Hi [Name]! Nice to finally meet you! I'm Heizou, Scara's friend and a defender. Also the one your brother blocked because he thought I was your boyfriend!"

"What?" Kuni turned to look at you. "Your brother thinks that?"

You laughed. "He does."

A scowl was now plastered onto your lover's face. Heizou, also noticing this, shivered. Maybe he shouldn't have said that. Maybe, he should now start preparing for the repetitions his captain would make him do once they finish this game. Maybe, he should take what he said back and tell Scara that it was a lie, and that he was just joking.

"Uhm—"

"They're calling for the players now," Ei announced to the team. When her eyes spotted you, she gave a subtle smile and wave before getting back to work.

Heizou let out a sigh of relief as Aether laughed next to him, the two already heading out to the field.

You placed your attention back to your boyfriend who's still in front of you, still maintaining his position from earlier. His earlier grin was already replaced by a frown, though.

You lowered your cap again.

Scaramouche swore his heart dropped when you cupped his face using both of your hands, gently tugging him closer.

"Why is your face like that, hmm?"

"What? Handsome?" He feigned ignorance.

You smiled. "Well, yes. That's true. But you look annoyed."

"It's nothing."

"Really?"

"Yes."

"Okay."

You took a quick glance towards his teammates. Seeing as most of them have already left for the field, you knew you had to settle this fast.

"Kuni." You called.

"What?"

You replied with nothing.

Nothing aside from closing the distance between the two of you — eyes closed, skin touching, lips intertwined; deep breaths the only thing audible upon parting.

"You—"

You put your index finger against his lips.

"Good luck!" You grinned.

KEEP MY HEART — scara x reader smau

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[reven1c]

A Little Death

Professor!Lee Byung Hun x Student!Reader

Summary: He wants you but is afraid for his reputation. Warnings: 18+ (minors do not interact), oral (male receiving), age gap (reader is 20, byung hun in his 40s), kinda a sad ending

A/N: I know it’s my 2nd post and i’m already writing a sad one but oh well who cares :3

——————————————————————————

You were a simple student trying to get through the classes of getting a degree in Psychology. You always loved psychology since you were 13 years old and always wanted to help people feel better about themselves or figure out something that bothered them. Until you joined college and realised that Psychology is a difficult subject, but no matter what that’s what you wanted to study.

For a weird reason in Psychology there is a subject called statistics that has to do with maths which you always hated, until your 3rd year in college, when the new professor who joined is a hot, charismatic, intelligent and a kinda cute man.

Since your first lesson with him, you have a crush on him. You always try and look at him in class, when you go home you always think of him, and those thoughts turn into dirty thoughts and many more. Your friend always teases you about it but you turn down the fact on having a crush on your professor.

Byung Hun noticed you since the first day he joined this college and he was the one who chose to teach your class. When he has the chance he tries to catch a glimpse of your beautiful face which he finds adorable. He always calls up on you, when you raise your hand, to answer his question so he can hear your voice.

One day you thought of approaching him, so when the class ended you walked towards his desk “Hi Mr Byung Hun”

“Oh hello, Y/N. Did something happen?” he asks a bit confused since no one would come up to his desk, all the students would quickly leave the class to go to their homes.

You chuckle “Oh no no everything is fine. I just don’t understand a unit and came here to ask you if you could help me” you say while smiling

Byung Hun stunned says “Of course of course what is it?”

You explain to him the unit you don’t understand and what exactly troubles you.

“Okay come here so i can explain it to you”

You stand next to him while your heart starts beating faster by the fact that you are standing so close to him. You lean a bit forward, closer to his face and he starts explaining to you.

Through the time he was explaining you weren’t even hearing him, you were observing his face and his facial futures. His beautiful eyes, his lips… especially his lips that you want to kiss so bad.

“Do you understand?” he turns his head towards you, his question waking you up from your dream.

“Uh yeah yeah now i understand” you throw a smile anxiously

You both freeze when you realise how close your faces are.

Byung Hun looks at your lips and back to your eyes “Okay Y/N if you have any other questions you can always come to me. Now you can leave” he says nervously.

You look into his eyes a couple seconds more and stand up “Uh thank you Mr Byung Hun. Have a good day” you turn and leave the class while your heart is ready to leave your chest by how fast is beating.

—

For a whole week there was a tension between the two of you. When you would leave his class, he would throw a smile at you and you always return it.

While Byung Hun was teaching, you and your friend were laughing which made him a bit angry “Y/L/N (your last name) will stay after class”

You freeze “But i didn’t do anything”

“I don’t care” and he returns to his lesson

After class ended you walked up to his desk “So what do i have to do?”

“Do some exercises on the unit you didn’t understand” he smiles sarcastically

“Oh okay” you say stunned cause you clearly didn’t understand that unit, even though he explained it to you, since you chose to day dream. You bring a chair to his desk, sit and try to do the exercises.

Byung Hun notices you struggling and chuckles “You didn’t actually understand when i explained it to you, did you?” he smirks

You look up to him and side smile “Uh well no” you shrug

He comes a bit closer to your face “And why is that?”

You freeze not knowing what to say.

“What? Cat got your tongue?” he chuckles

You look into his eyes and he smirks “Come here” he motions to his lap. Your eyes widen “Don’t be scared.” he chuckles and you stand up and sit on his lap.

He looks at you and observes your face. He pushes a strand of your hair behind your ear “Where you day dreaming about your professor?” he smirks.

You gulp and keep your mouth shut. Byung Hun laughs “Why are you not answering? You know girls who don’t answer to me, get punished” he smirks.

Your heart keeps getting faster and realise that you are getting wet by your professor.

“Will you answer me?” he says while he brought his hand behind my neck. You nod your head as an answer.

“Use your words, dear” he presses a bit on your neck “Y-yes i was day dreaming about you” you breath out air that you have been holding for a while now.

“Attagirl” he smiles “And what exactly were you day dreaming?” he looks deep into your eyes waiting for an answer.

You mumble and lower your head, not wanting him to hear cause you are kinda embarrassed. “I didn’t hear you, doll. Speak louder” he caps your chin to make you look at him “I was having dirty thoughts of you” your face getting red.

Byung Hun smirks with your truth “You were having dirty thoughts about me, your professor?” he says while caressing your arms making you get goosebumps.

“I know that’s fucked up-“ he shuts you up with a kiss. You freeze for a second and then kiss him back “It’s not fucked up, okay? More fucked up is me having those kinda thoughts about you”

You look at him stunned “You did?”, he nods, “Then i guess that’s more fucked up” and you both laugh.

“Since the moment i stepped on this college and saw you” he starts kissing your neck “I have been having these thoughts” he continues by leaving little bites behind and a whimper slips from your lips “Thinking about your face, your body, you” he smiles.

You smirk and kiss him. You caught him off guard which he just laughed off. The kiss was so passionate that made you melt. You break the kiss and slowly get off his lap and fall to your knees.

Byung Hun freezes “What are you doing?”

“I want to please my professor. Can’t i?” you smirk

He caresses your cheek with his thumb “Hmm i wouldn’t mind”

You smile and while looking at him you unzip his pants and slip a bit off his underwear. Your lips leave a lil gasp and he chuckles. You bring your hand to his dick and slowly stroke it. Byung Hun moans. You feel yourself getting more and more wet.

Without a second passing you take his dick into your mouth and at first you slowly go up and down making him moan “Oh just like that doll” and with him saying that, it made you moan on his dick.

You start going faster making Byung Hun groan and he brings his hand to grap your hair. Tears stream down your face.

“Your pretty face getting fucked looks so good. Keep going” you continue going up and down when suddenly Byung Hun stops you, having his dick down on your throat trying not to gag. You moan and he feels himself getting closer “I think i’m close”

Byung Hun fucks your face trying to get closer to his climax “Oh god Y/N you are taking my dick so good”

You let him do whatever he wants with your head and the only thing you can do is moan on his dick.

He lets a loud moan and he cums in your mouth “Ah yes” He takes your head off his dick “You better swallow it”

You swallow his cum and open your mouth to show him.

“That’s my good girl” he praises and wipes your tears off your face “I hope i didn’t hurt you” he looks at you in awe

“No Im okay don’t worry” you smile and stand up “I guess i have to go home now” you kiss him

Byung Hun groans “Okay”. You turn and look at him for the last time and leave the classroom.

—

Byung Hun since yesterday, the only thing he had in his mind was you. How good you looked getting face fucked. But in the back of his mind he thought that it was a bad idea.

On the other hand you were the happiest person. You couldn’t sleep because you were only thinking about him.

You went to college, entered the classroom and sit next to your friend with a smile on your face “Whose dick did you sucked?” she asks and you hit her while laughing.

Byung Hun enters the classroom without books “Today’s lesson won’t happen. Everyone you can go home”. When he finished talking the whole class cheered and quickly left the class. You, though, stayed behind to see him.

“Hi” you say happily

“Hello” he says without any emotion

You look at him confused “Byung Hun is everything okay?” you walk closer to him.

“No it’s not” he spits “What happened yesterday should be forgotten. This between us must stop”

You freeze when you see him getting angry and saying those things “W- What? Why?” you try not to cry.

“We shouldn’t have done what we did yesterday. It’s literally fucked up. Everything is fucked up” he walks closer to you raising his voice “If anyone learns what happened i can lose my job or even they can kick you out of this school” he stops in front of your face.

You look into his eyes with your eyes wide when a tear slips on your cheek.

Byung Hun groans “Don’t even try and cry in front of me”

“I will do whatever i want” you get angry “Then why did you let me suck your dick if we came to this point huh? WHY?!” You start crying “You should have stopped me- or no, I should have stopped myself” you back up slowly “I am so dumb for falling for you”

He walks towards you “No Y/N”. You raise a brow “No what now? You are gonna tell me you weren’t thinking right? That you are scared? That you are a pussy?” you laugh sarcastically “Oh my god i’m so dumb”

Byung Hun looks at you with pity since you caught him; that’s what he wanted to tell you but he brought it to this point “I’m sorry”

“No no i don’t want to hear it” you get your bag and turn to him for the last time “I don’t want to see you again” and turn to leave the class.

He watches you leave without stopping you.

[harrietswriting]

I love your stuff!! i was wondering if you could do some stuff with the gang x curtissister!reader who has selective mutism??:3

Like she occasionally will murmur "i love you"s and whatnot to them like on their birthday or when they're upset but other than that stays quiet? like maybe she gets bullied for it too?

if you could i would love for her to be 13 just a year younger than ponyboy but if not it's fine i don't really care!😋🫶

an: This is so cute! Sorry this took me so long to get to. I'm doing this as headcanons and a mini fic!

w: a little insensitivity? Mentions of mockery, not proof read

Dallas, Two-Bit, and Steve are all "Don't say anything if..."

Ponyboy is always sticking up for you and talking for you

Sodapop really appreciates your quietness. He loves to sit with you in silence or sit with you and vent after Ponyboy and Darry fight

If you use sign language, your brothers learn it to communicate with you- and eventually the rest of the guys start to pick up some signs or ask you to teach them some signs

Johnny really connects with you and, like Soda, enjoys your quiet, calming vibe

Darry hates to see anyone mocking you for not talking or for signing, parents will be called, teachers will be informed, and Darry will consider the morality of punching a 13 year old child

All the guys are worried about you, because not only are you in danger of being jumped for being a greaser, but they know you won't yell for help and won't stand up for yourself

They're worried for when you start highschool

Darry gets really mad if you walk somewhere alone

Pony walks with you most places

Dallas and Steve are the least understanding, but they accept it and will stand up for you if someone mocks you.

Darry, Soda, and Pony love to hear you laugh

Every "I love you" is way more meaningful and cherished by them

Darry wants to get you a consular or therapy to help, but you guys can't afford it

Dallas doesn't talk to you much because he knows you won't respond, but he still like being around you. He'll often communicate with gestures or facial expressions.

Sometimes Steve pretends you're communicating telepathically

"Everyone be quiet, y/n and I are talking in our brains." He'll say as he rubs his the sides of his temple

They've all gotten very good at reading your expressions

"Y/n, don't say anything if I can eat all the cake batter." Two-bit says while slowly reaching for the bowl. You glare at him then smack his hands away. He chuckles and steps back. You sigh then pick up the bowl and carefully pour the batter into a pan.

Ponyboy doesn't look up from his book when he says, "Leave her alone, Two-bit."

Two-bit ruffles Pony's hair before sitting down at the table. "Relax, kid, I'm just messing around. It's cool. Right, Y/n?"

You turn your head to look at him and roll your eyes. He chuckles. You close the oven and set a timer for 40 minutes. Soda and Steve walk into the kitchen in their DX uniforms. Soda smiles and waves and you smile back.

"I can't believe you worked on your birthday, Soda." Two-bit chuckles.

Soda shrugs, "I like my job. Plus, I got to spend the whole day with my best friend." He pats Steve on the shoulder. "Cake almost done, Y/n?"

"39 minutes." You sign as you sit down at the table.

-

When the cake is finally cooled down, you frost it. You carefully, and as evenly as possible, spread the frosting over the cake. Once done, you stick in all 17 candles. Ponyboy, who had been impatiently watching you asks, "Is it done?"

You nod.

"Guys the cake is done!" Pony yells excitedly as he hurries into the living room to let everyone know. All of the guys were at the house, and everyone hurriedly made their way to the dining room. You carefully set the chocolate cake down infront of Soda. Darry lights the candles as you sit down. It takes a decent amount of time to light 17 candles, but once they're all lit, the guys begin to sing.

"Happy birthday to you." You hum the song as everyone sings to Soda. Once the song is over, Soda blows out his candle.

"What'd you wish for?" Two-Bit asks.

"He cant tell you, then it won't come true." Steve rebukes.

Soda smiles mischievously. "I wished you wouldn't talk so damn much, Two!"

Two-bit falls into hysterics, and Darry warns, "Language."

You cut the cake. Soda, of course is handed the first piece.

"Thank you, y/n."

Two-bit and Steve fight over the second piece, but they calm down once a third is cut. Then Pony and Johnny get one.

You point at Dallas then at the cake, to ask if he wants a slice. He nods, so you give him one. Darry declines at first, but the protests from his brothers convince him to have a slice too. You finally cut a piece for yourself.

-

Later that night, after all the guys had gone home, and you'd gotten ready for bed, you join Soda in the living room. He's looking at a chain that Steve got him, and the flannels you and Ponyboy got him are folded beside him. He looks up at you as you walk in. You wave, and he smiles. You sit next to him on the couch. You two sit in silence for a while, the only sound being the chain moving around in his hands.

"Happy birthday, Soda." You mutter quietly, looking at his hands. You look at his eyes for the next part. "I love you."

Soda beams. He wraps an arm around you and pulls you in for a side hug. "Thank you. I love you too, and don't you forget it."

An: I hope you liked it!! It's almost summer! Yay!

[shanesevikasfuckdoll]

Sheriff Grayson 🎀🎀🎀

Okay, I kinda wanna write Grayson fics, would you guys be into that? Okay, I'm just gonna keep writing police mommy

Warning: Slight Smut. Marcus. Can't tell the difference between colleague and coworker. barely proofread

🚫Men and Minors DNI🚫

You are a Junior officer that just graduated a couple months ago. You work as an enforcer now in Grayson's department, and you try your hardest not to look at her too long, or study her facial features, her body, the way she walks, the way she talks— yeah, you're kind of obsessed. You had a huge crush on her, the first time you guys met. She welcomed you, and her being the sheriff, she was often the one telling you what to do, and she's kind enough to teach you what you don't know. And boy, do you love it.

Every 'Hi' every 'goodmorning' every smile, and wave she sends you, you just feel like you have a mini heart attack right then and there. You try your best not to get your feelings in the way, however, since sheriff grayson was just very professional, and very kind. 'She's 40+ goddammit! Get a hold of yourself' you scream internally.

You kept that crush to yourself, though, not even telling your closest friends, and coworkers about it, when they ask if you have eyes for anyone at the department. Of course, as a professional-unprofessional, you just laugh, and point to a random person, and say "Hmmm, that, right there, they're pretty hot" and move on with your day. You were pretty easy on the eyes too, some of your colleagues, mainly Marcus had a huge crush on you, but you prefer women, but that didn't stop him from trying and hitting on you though. He often asks you for drinks sometimes after your shift was over, which you took upon once in awhile, as long as you had company, but when it's just you two, you decline.

Grayson was the only one you had eyes on anyways. But, you're probably not her type, you being young and unexperienced and all. But you do appreciate her kindness towards you, often, when Marcus hits on you during work hours, she'll scold him, and tell you to just ignore him. Or when you have no clue what to do, she'll just assign you to do something easier. She'd offer to buy you lunch, when you'd overwork yourself too much, and she hears your stomach grumble too much. But you'd shyly decline her offer since you don't want to abuse your sheriff's kindess too much, and you're not really used to someone caring like that, let alone your crush. So you'd just blush, and tell her "Oh, thank you, Sheriff, but I'm fine, really." You say, with a soft smile, while you avoid her gaze to hide your blush.

She chuckles, with her deep voice, you can hear it vibrate to be honest. You can see her adams apple, everytime she talks, and you find that so hot. "Nonsense. I insist, please, let me buy you lunch." When you politely decline again, she stands up and smile at you, "I understand." as she turns to walk away. About half an hour later, you just came back from the restroom, and you find a paper bag on your desk, with a note that writes "I'm sorry for blatantly disobeying your wishes right now, but you truly need something to eat. I asked some of your friends what food you like, so I got you this. 💕–G" and all you could do was cover your cheeks, and feel your face getting hotter and hotter. You try to hide your blush, and your smile, by sitting down quickly, and you try to find her, and you see her looking at you through the glass of her office, while she was talking with someone. She winks at you, and continues to talk, and all you could do was mouth a small 'Thank you' and open your lunch to see your favourite food in it. At this point your face was burning up, and your colleagues ask if you were doing alright, but you quickly answered– "Yep!" They chuckle, and you eat your lunch there, savoring the taste, and you keep looking at the note Grayson wrote you. You put it under your desk, to keep in with you forever.

This went on for awhile, and every time, you offer to pay her back, but she firmly declines. "No, I truly insist. I do this on my own accord, this isn't a debt, it's just my way of showing you kindness" She smiles, and rejects your offer to pay her back with money, and walks away, before you could even come up with an argument. You start giving back, though. You often bake for the whole precinct when you had time, but this time, you made some custom muffins for Grayson that you know she loves. She doesn't like it too sweet, so you just add more fruit, and less sugar, and you sneak it in her office once in awhile with a note that only contains a "❤️ -(your initial)" Each day, your crush on her was growing, and your feelings get stronger and atronger for her. But with that, you know that that's the only place your feelings would go. Secret, and unnoticed. You know she only thinks of you as something platonic anyways, and you try your best to hide your blushes everytime you interact with her. It's just her face, and her neck when she talks, her eyes when she looks at you, that smug smile, and how good she looks in uniform that drives you insane.

One day, you finally arrested the guy on your case for months, and the whole precinct congratulated you. Marcus proposed drinking for the night, and everybody, except Grayson tagged along. "You kids go, I must stay here to finish off my paper work. With my age, do you really think I'm missing out on that much?" She convinces, but you feel a little sad she's not coming with you. But you try not to let it linger on your mind for too long. It was a huge achievement for you, and she did buy you your favourite candied apples for lunch that day, with a note that said "Congratulations! – G" and you kept that note in your wallet for the night.

You, and your colleagues went to the bar, and you drank all night long in celebratory for your first biggest achievement in yet. Your face was now red, and you were getting notably buzzed, and your body was relaxed, the tension gone, and your words slurred a little bit, and you were just over all just carefree. Your coworkers seemed to be a little tipsy too. You were just all laughing together, and Marcus seemed to fall asleep right then and there, he always asked for drinks, yet he can never hold his alcohol well.

You were buying another round when your co worker suddenly asked "So who do you like?" And you paused for a bit, and you just blinked at her. "I already told you that" You chuckle, and she laughs at you "Yeah, but we both know that's bullshit, so who is it?" You sigh, and finally tell them. "Fine, but, keep your mouths shut everyone... It's... Grayson" They all audibly gasped, surprised, and they all hit your shoulder and laughed. "Grayson?! As in Sheriff Grayson?!" You feel your face burn up again, and you try to hide your face, they were laughing. When they finally calmed down, they hit you again, but this time, it's a lot more calmer. "Don't worry, we get it. We'll keep our mouths shut. Just don't tell mister sleepy head right there" She gestures over a drunk Marcus eith his head down, and they laugh at him.

The night goes smoothly, and you all had to go home. They left, and took marcus home, and you called a cab and went home.

The next day, when you went to work, everybody had hangovers. Everyone, but Marcus. He was looking at you with disgust, and you squint at him to make sure you were seeing right. He looked down on you, he spits, and turns away. You are notably confused, and you ask one of your coworkers that you were with last night. "What's up with him?" You ask them, and they looked oddly nervous, and they were choking alot. You're getting kind of angry at this point "Spit it out." They choke, and blink, and just point at him whispering something to Grayson. You didn't get it at first, but you finally realized what he was doing.

You look absolutely mortified, your face full of betrayal, as Grayson just looks at you for awhile. You both just made eye contact, her eyes going wide, when she finally broke it. 'That's it. I'm getting fired.' You look at your coworker, and demand answers. How could they betray you like this, you ask with tears in your eyes. They say sorry, and explain that last night, when you were all drunk, turns out Marcus was still awake. And heard EVERYTHING. At this point you juat wanted to get swallowed by the earth. You felt like shit. She wasn't supposed to know. Everything was going so well. "W-we're sorry, Y/n. We didn't know." They say trying to comfort you, but you just coldly brush them off. You feel like shit. You know it was your fault for telling them in the first place. they weren't supposed to know. And now it was out.

You were quiet the whole day, the whole week even. Grayson has been bringing you anymore lunch, and she wasn't talking or calling you into her office anymore. When you come across her, she just looks the other way. She doesn't smile, or say 'Hi' to you anymore, when you come in for work. Marcus had finally gotten the hint you just weren't into him, and he stopped trying to flirst with you. Often, he'd just point and laugh, at how pathetic you are, and try your best to ignore him as much as you can.

Till a couple weeks later. You were still quiet, and not talking to anyone else by now. You started to work even harder, just constantly overworking yourself now that you can't trust anyone in the precinct. You bury yourself in paperwork. If you're not doing that, you often just guard, and patrol through the city. Anything to keep your mind away from Grayson.

You can't help it, even when she's ignoring you, she's effortlessly intoxicating.

One rainy night, you were working overtime, trying to finish all your paper work at once since, tomorrow was a weekend, you don't want to have anything on your mind, other than relax at home, and get a drink. By the time you finished, you noticed officer Grayson in her office fixing her things, getting ready to leave. You quickly run out, to make sure you don't go home the same time as her, to avoid any awkward situations, so you run to the door.

It was pouring. You didn't have an umbrella. The one time it rains, the only time you didn't bring an umbrella with you. You were just standing right outside the door, to keep yourself from getting wet. You sigh, and sit on a chair, and wait for the rain to stop. You hear sheriff Grayson walk out the door, cursing under her breath, when she saw how strong the rain, and winds are. You tried your best to look away, and you reached to your pocket, and light a cigarette. She just stands there, across from you, and you notice she's looking at you.

You hear her chuckle. You look to the side, to see she's smiling right at you. You shyly smile back, and she softly opens her mouth "You know, smoking is bad for you, my dear" She says, as she crosses arms and shakes her head. You look down, and take a long drag on your cigarette, and blow smoke to the other side. "Yeah, but, these past few weeks have been... Shitty." You confess. You can barely look her in the eye at this point.

She makes her way towards you, and pats your shoulder. "Mind telling me about it? I wanna make sure you're alright, dear. Sorry if I haven't been attentive these past few days. I have been... Busy." She says, but you can hear the slight hesitation in her voice, but still laced with comfort. You just sigh, and look at the floor, as if the floor was telling you something interesting. You laugh, dryly. You try not to cry, but your sniffles can still be heard. She pats your back, and takes your cigarette from you, placing it somewhere, and she crouches down to your level. "Are you okay, dove? Is something wrong?" She puts her rough and calloused hands on your shoulder, as you pathetically cry infront of her. You finally break. "I-I'm sorry Grayson. Everything was fine between us, but I got drunk, and told my c-coworkers I-I liked you, and it was a mistake, I shouldn't have said it, and now you're ignoring me, and I'm sorry for crying, I known it's dumb, I should just—"

She cuts you off with a deep kiss. It takes you a while to completely comprehend what's happening. You put one of your arms on her shoulder, to pull on the back of her hair, as you moan in the kiss. You pull back, and she pulls you back in. She's now putting hickies on your neck. You still can't believe this is real, so you push her away again, just to take a good look at her.

She stops, and she pushes you a little big, surprised by her own actions. "I-I'm sorry, that was unprofessional of me, I shouldn't have done that, I came off too strong, I apologize" She says, and you just blink and look at her. You giggle a bit still nervous about what just happened, and you grip her biceps "No, no, It's okay, I do like you, alot— I'm just— am I dreaming? Is this real? Are we doing this?" You ask her, looking into her beautiful grey eyes, and she smiles at you, and leans in "Yes, dove, this is real." she goes in to kiss you again, and you kiss her back with more passion, and it's slowly turning into a very horny make out session.

Lighting striked, and the two of you jumped. You both giggle, and she kissed your nose, and looks at you. "Sincerely, I am sorry for ignoring you the past few weeks, it was just so hard to believe that you liked me, I guess I got nervous. I do like you too, sweetheart, I just had to find a way to find the courage and do this with you." she admits, witch a small noticable blush on her cheeks, as she looks down at you, "Would you like to go on a date with me, dove?" She asks, her hand reaching for yours, as you stand up. You smile at her. "Yes, I'd love to" You kiss her knuckles.

The rain has gotten much weaker mow, and she takes her bag, to get an umbrella in it. "Do you want me to drive you home, love?" She asks you. You smile at her, as she offers her arm to you, and you gladly take it. You nod to her, and she puts the umbrella over your heads, as she takes you to her car. She opens the door for you like the gentlewoman she is, and kisses you hand as you go in.

She gets into the car, and asks you if you're comfortable. You nod, as you put your seatbelt on, and she drives you home. "Grayson? What did Marcus tell you exactly, when he...?" You look up at her, and ask her. She just chuckles, as she shift geers, (God, just thinking about it makes me—) "Oh, nothing you have to worry about dear. He just told me you liked me. I was in shock of course, and I wanted to talk to you about it. But, I knew if I did, I wouldn't be able to act professional around you, so I tried my best not to..." She explains. You look down, but she looks at you, and smiles to herself. "I'm glad I did now." She says to you. You could hear the smile in her voice. She puts a had on your leg, and rubs it. You touch her hand, and look up at her. "You mean it?" She chuckles, and she stops her car on the red light. She nods. She cups your cheeks, and leans in to give you a peck on the lips. You're now a blushing mess.

When you get to your destination, she parks right outside your house, waiting for you get your stuff. You were about to thank her, when she pulls your wrists, and leans in for another deep kiss. You were surprised at how clingy your Sheriff was, but you kissed her back. You climb on top of her, and slowly grind your hips on her thighs, as she's taking off her uniform. You pull away, only to go to her neck, and give her love bites. She chuckles. "hmm, my dove, I think I'm past the age where love bites look cool on me" You roll your eyes. "You're never to old for a little love, Gray" You tease, and she pulls you back into the kiss.

You guys make out for a while when you pull back and look at her. "Do you... Want to come in?" You ask her, with a cheeky smile. Your hair is all messy now. She chuckles, and presses her forehead against yours. "I'd love to." and with that, she takes her umbrella, and carries you into your house, and you spend the whole night 'Bonding' with your Sheriff. 😉

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

I'm gonna end this right here, I'm not gonna go full on smut yet. I'm just testing the waters, if y'all would like me to make more Grayson fics, as much as I make Sevika fics. I love them both, I can't choose between them, so I think I might do both, but what do you think?

[sxnnimoon]

Slow Dance

Pedro Pascal x Reader

Summary: When a simple night out with friends turns into a night a pleasure with a stranger you made eye contact with.

Warnings: sex in public, oral(fem receiving, male briefly), unprotected sex, mirror sex, facial

It was already 9 pm by the time you finished getting yourself ready and headed out the door. The constant ringing of your phone filled the Uber as your friends asked if you truly were coming. Upon arrival at the club, you could already feel the bass coursing through your veins as the bass could be heard from outside the building. You could already tell it was going to be a good night as you got to your section and your best friend was already handing you drinks.

“FINALLY!” She said shoving drinks at you. “Catch up.”

You shook your head giggling as you downed the various drinks and shots you were handed.

“She’s just about drunk, and we’ve been here 40 minutes,” Lei said, hugging you.

“Almost?? She pre-gamed an hour before we got here, she’s been drunk.” Loni said from his spot on the couch, clearly not on the level of your lightweight friend.

“It’s okay Loni baby, I’ll entertain you tonight if you want.” You smirked downing another drink.

His eyes shifted to you before hiding the rosey blush evident on his face.

“Aww did I make you flustered?” you smirked, teasing him.

He just bit his lip and shook his head.

“In your dreams baby, in your dreams.” He said, pushing you away playfully.

An hour went by as you stood there for a bit drinking and giggling with your friends just swaying to the music, having yet to hit the dance floor. You’d been scanning the club people watching at the bodies everywhere as they danced anywhere or made out for all to see. Eyes shifting they landed on a section opposite yours, it was a group of people. Celebs it seemed like, one in particular catching your eye as you took in his taller frame from your smaller one. Glasses perched on his nose, shirt cut lowly, a single button holding it closed complimented with black slacks hugging him nicely. Sipping your drink you drank him in, eyes moving back up to his face only to be met by his own eyes drinking you in making you startled for getting caught. A smile formed on his face as he nodded at you, whether it was the alcohol you could feel an attraction towards him. Feeling a pair of hands on you, you jumped drink nearly flying for how entranced you were by the mystery man.

“Who the fu-” Turning around fast you were met with Kai.

“Don’t do that.” You playfully nudged him, making him chuckle.

“Hi to you too.” He smirked.

“Hi.” You giggled handing him a shot.

“I see you didn’t waste any time, yet you haven’t made it to the floor.” He said, smiling at you.

“I was waiting for you.” You winked.

“Cute.” He shook his head. “Do you want-”

He was cut off.

“Y/N LET'S GO THIS IS OUR SONG.” Tati practically screamed, pulling you away from Kai who only shook his head laughing as you both nearly tumbled down the stairs, drinks in hand.

Finally, on the dance floor, you let the mashup of After Hours and House of Balloons by The Weeknd take over your body, guiding your every move as you're dancing carefree. You could feel the alcohol coursing through your body as you danced while sipping your drink as you did so completely unaware of the eyes locked in on you from above. The lyrics “You belong to me” repeated in the stranger's head as your body moved with ease as you took in the beat like it was yours. Funny how a very small interaction, from afar no doubt could have someone so hooked on another.

You were holding on to Tati’s waist as she danced on you when you felt a pair of hands on yours. Lost in the Fire begins playing as you let go of Tati, taking full control of your body and dancing up against the stranger behind you. You didn’t mind, hell nor did you care. You were here to have fun. They pulled you in closer, hands gliding allowing your body and your arms to come up to wrap around their neck fingers

immediately entangling with their hair. You knew it was a guy judging by the grip he had on your body with just one hand and drink in the other and the not-so-little bulge resting against your ass as you ground into him. The feeling of his hands on your body sent daggers everywhere. His fingers danced along your body leaving you desperate for his touch. Eyes looking forward you took notice of the fact that Tati had disappeared, looking around you noticed her dancing a few feet away with her hook-up of the night. As the song changed once more you turned around, arms still wrapped around his neck, and you gasped. The familiar glasses you’d studied earlier now staring closely down at you as you danced against one another. Opening your mouth to speak you noticed him leaning in close, you could feel his breath ghosting your lips, just centimeters from each other, taking that leap you pulled him in. Lips in sync, the kiss getting deeper and rougher the taste of alcohol mixed with his saliva intoxicated you more and hands began to wander and roam. That familiar sensation brewed deep within you.

“Come with me.” He pulled away whispering in your ear as if he read your mind.

Biting your lip you nodded, drink in hand long gone as he guided you through the club, a firm grip on your hand as if he was determined to not lose sight of you.

You weren’t exactly sober but you weren’t nearly as drunk as Tati was, but you knew where you were and you most certainly knew what you were doing. As the bathrooms came in sight he held the door open for you, not a care in his mind if someone were in there to witness and hear what was to happen.

Once locked your body was pinned against the door every inch of your body being worshipped. Dress now bunched up at your hips, breasts on display, you were exposed to him besides the poor excuse of panties now soaked from how turned on you were.

Honing in on his touch, one hand roamed while the other was placed on your neck holding you right where he wanted you as he ravaged your chest wasting no time giving each one the attention they so desperately needed as he left open-mouthed kisses biting every so often your mouth falling open at the pleasure.

He smirked at each noise he was dragging out of you. The hand that roamed now situated itself at your core, running a single finger through your clothed folds. The soaked material made it easy for him to do so as you bit back a moan as he pushed the material to the side. The pad of his middle finger finds your clit throwing your head back as you let out a moan. The hand on your neck came to your mouth as the other pointed at you before going to his lips signaling to be quiet as he walked away going towards the sinks, turning each one on to help drown out what was happening.

In a matter of seconds, your dress was long gone off your body and in a ball on the floor. You watched as he sank to his knees, kissing your cunt as he pulled your panties down with his teeth maintaining eye contact. The flimsy material finds its new home in his back pocket.

Blame the alcohol for your arousal but you were close just from his subtle touches and he knew it too.

“You’re close aren’t you?” He smirked, tone lower as his fingers danced along hips and front, completely skipping over where you needed him most.

His tone of voice made you whine.

“I’ll give you what you want baby, just be patient.” He soothed.

You were completely bare to him which made you grow needier. You went to speak but were stopped short as he placed his mouth on you, the moment his lips touched your core you couldn’t hold back anymore.

“FUCK” you cried out.

His tongue ran through your folds expertly. Stopping here and there to hear you whine and see you squirm trying to get back to his mouth. Taking your clit into his mouth he tugged softly, making you buck your hips as you felt that familiar knot building as you grew closer and closer. He began to slow down, and the feeling of his mouth lingered. You were confused yet annoyed he stopped.

“Wh- AAH,” you moaned, loudly.

His mouth is now back on your sensitive cunt, followed by his fingers pressing into your hole, scissoring inside of you. Going to buck your hips, he held them down.

“Settle or I stop.” he looked up at you.

You responded with a pout and whimper, the look in his eyes darkening making you go silent.

Picking up the pace he could tell you were near just by the hold on his hair and the way you gripped his fingers in. Sucking your clit and curling his fingers he sent you over the edge devouring you as you saw stars.

Removing his fingers he sucked them clean, watching you come down from your high. He smirked to himself.

“M-more..” you choked out, finally finding your voice once again.

“More?” He repeated.

You nodded eagerly, watching him stand as he undid his belt buckle as his slacks fell to his ankles. He stood there in just his briefs, the single button holding his shirt in place now undone with his body on display to you. You bit your lip, eyes wandering. He was rock-hard. How could you not want more?

“Are you sure?” He asked once more as you stared up at him through your lashes.

“More than you know.” You said softly, propping yourself up on your knees becoming eye level with him. Fingers dancing along the waistline of his briefs. He shifted at your touch.

Looping your fingers you pulled them down, eyes wide. Immediately taken by surprise. Nuzzling between his legs you take him into your mouth, not wanting to waste any time. The taste of him making you moan around him, feeling him buck some at the vibrations. His panting picked up as his end built up, the grip on your hair alone indicated he was close.

Pulling your mouth off with a pop you pumped him a few times, it wasn’t long until he came all over your face dripping down onto your breast completely missing your mouth.

Pulling himself together he lifted you to your feet, lips connecting with yours as he tasted himself on your lips before flipping you around. Grabbing onto the counter to hold yourself up as he positioned himself behind you, the tip of his dick rubbing through your folds coating himself more before he prodded at your entrance not moving further than the tip, making you move your hips in hopes to feel more of him.

“So greedy.” He spoke, snapping his hips forward and thrusting roughly into you. The feeling of him stretching you out deliciously felt like heaven on earth. Head falling forward as you cried out, he was pulling sounds out of you, you didn’t know you could make. You were lost in the way his cock moved in and out of you that you didn’t feel his hand creep up and take hold of your hair pulling you up.

“Watch me while I fuck you” he rasped into your ear, eyes looking in the mirror watching as you fell apart on his cock, eyes meeting once you looked.

“That’s it,” his other hand finding its way to your neck, gripping it. “Look at my pretty girl, you're taking it so well for me.”

The way he talked you through it as he picked up the pace, the clench around him indicating you were close once again as you released around his cock. He followed once again spilling inside you as he gripped the counter on either side of you to stabilize himself from falling over.

The sound of running water, muffled music and your shared panting was all that could be heard before he pulled out. The feeling of him still lingering as he helped clean you up and grab your dress off the floor.

[kjupchurch-xx]

Oh, Baby!

This chapter contains a tiny bit of SMUT.

Hugh and I were expecting our first child, not something he'd planned at the age of 40 or me at the age of 26, but one thing led to another and we ended up finding out we were expecting. Though, that's the kind of thing that happens when you aren't exactly careful, if you know what I mean. Of course you do. Besides that, things were well, we'd just celebrated our second year of marriage, our third year together and he was just nominated People's Sexiest Man Alive.

Flashback to the night of conception:

I laid beneath him as he gazed down into my eyes, his tan skin glistening in the dimly lit room. His thrusts slow, steady and full of passion. With one hand, he was cupping my cheek as my soft moans filled our bedroom. His other hand keeping him atop of me without bearing too much of his weight on me. I could see his facial expressions through the dim lighting, he was letting out soft moans while continuing to make love to me. I could tell he was getting close by the expression on his face.

As he leaned down to kiss me softly, he mumbled against my lips, "I love you, gorgeous." as his thrusts continued. As I reached my orgasm, he climaxed with me, not pulling out as he pressed his forehead against mine, continuing to kiss me with so much emotion, so much love. He collapsed alongside me, pulling me into his embrace, pressing another kiss on my forehead as we slowly drifted off to sleep.

Present Day:

Hugh and I did not know the gender. After suffering a miscarriage last year, we didn't care about a gender, we cared about a healthy baby. However, we did have our names picked out. If Baby Jackman were a girl, her name would be Paisley Grace Jackman, if Baby Jackman were a boy, his name would be Christopher Michael Jackman, which was a nod to Hugh's father, Chris and Michael since it was Hugh's middle name. Grace came from Hugh's rekindled relationship with his mother, Grace.

I was 38 weeks pregnant and my baby bump has already made me double in size. Whenever Hugh wasn't filming, he'd sing, read or even talk to the bump. The baby always kicked at the sound of Hugh's voice, regardless of what he was doing. Hugh was ecstatic to be a father, he even cried when he found out we would be having a child. I spent most of the time wondering what our precious gift would look like, if they'd take Hugh's Australian accent or take on more of my Southern accent.

"Here Beautiful, I made you a brekkie. Pancakes don't cause your morning sickness anymore, right?" He asked with a soft gentle voice, bringing me a plate of the pancakes he'd made from scratch.

I smiled, "No, pancakes are fine now. I've been craving pancakes. Thank you, love." I said, grabbing the plate, devouring the food he'd brought me as he sat beside me.

He started caressing my upper thigh, "How're you feeling today, love?"

I yawned, "I'm okay today, but I've really got to pee. I'm so fat now, I can hardly waddle at this point." I snickered while struggling to get up.

He quickly stood up, taking both of my hands in his, helping me to my feet. "You're not fat, stop that. You're beautiful and you can tell by how much sex we have that I'm still very much attracted to you, bump and all." He chuckled.

I playfully rolled my eyes, heading in the direction of our bathroom to pee for the 50th time that morning. As I stepped into the doorway, I had this immediate urge and quickly realized I did not have to pee. In fact, my water had broken. All over the floor and all over the clothes I had on. The doctor had previously told us once I hit 38 weeks that Baby Jackman could come at any time, so knowing this, we'd planned ahead and had a bag packed just in case. Thank god.

I yelled for Hugh as I waddled my way into the bedroom to quickly change pants. He came rushing into our bedroom, "Are you okay? What happened?" He asked, his voice dripping with concern as he stepped close towards me.

"I um, my water... My water broke. It's happening." I stammered, a panicked look spread across my face. He quickly grabbed the bag we'd packed in one hand, and used his other to carefully usher me to the car outside. He threw the bag in the backseat before carefully helping me into the front seat, leaning down pulling my seatbelt across me. I could feel the contractions beginning at this point. The sharp waves of pain leaving me quivering, eager to get to the hospital to get relief.

He held my hand as he drove us towards the nearest hospital, bringing my hand up to his lips, letting them brush lightly across my knuckles, "We're about to see our baby. I can't wait." He spoke softly.

I wrapped my arm around my stomach as I felt another wave of pain getting ready to rush through my abdomen, "Holy shit, this is fucking painful." I winced.

He caressed my arm, "I know love, it'll be over soon. We're almost there, just hang on."

As we arrived at the hospital, he helped me out of the car, grabbing the bag and slinging it over his shoulder, using his other arm to steady me as my contractions grew stronger. Once he got me inside and I was rushed back by medical staff, he ran out to park the car before coming back up to the room I was being wheeled to, in a wheelchair. Upon arriving to room 232, I was helped out of my clothes and into a hospital gown. The nurses came in with friendly, welcoming personalities and smile plastered their faces to get me prepped and check my dilation before allowing me to have my privacy.

I could feel the tears coming. I was now alone in the room, I was about to push my first kid out, I'm in pain. I'm terrified. I know he's just parking the car, but I'm petrified.

The door to my room swung open and in ran a panicked Hugh as he noticed the tears spilling down my cheeks. "Baby girl, are you okay? Is the baby okay?" He asked frantically, grabbing my face gently.

I nodded, "I'm scared." I swallowed the hard lump that felt stuck in my throat.

He began caressing my face, pressing a soft kiss on my forehead, "It's okay, my love. I'm here. There's nothing to be afraid of. Soon, we'll be holding the baby. Our baby." He said reassuringly as he wiped his fingers over the tears streaming my face.

I grimaced as that now familiar wave of contraction pain made its way through my insides. The feeling was getting more painful with each wave that hit.

Hours had went by. My dilation slowly, but surely getting closer. The discomfort and pain I felt has me second guessing if getting pregnant was the right choice. I just wanted the pain to stop. As a nurse walked in, Hugh stood up, standing beside me, holding my hand tightly.

"Mrs. Jackman, it's time to check your dilation. Hopefully we're at the point we can begin pushing." The nurse, who'd introduced herself as Nurse Jackie informed us as she moved the blanket, leaving me exposed to check my dilation. "I'm calling your obstetrician to come down. We'll be ready to begin pushing once he gets here, Mrs. Jackman." She said, removing her rubber gloves and discarding them, washing her hands then walking out of the room.

I looked over at Hugh, running my fingers down my pregnant belly. "I don't think I can do this..." I expressed, my voice laced with fear and doubt. "This pain is fucking unbearable." I shouted while clenching my fists as my body stiffened from another contraction.

He ran his fingers through my hair, "You've got this, love. It'll be all over soon. I promise."

I nodded at his words, slowly closing my eyes waiting for the obstetrician to enter the room. I'd already been given an epidural, but surprisingly, it didn't seem to numb the pain much. Neither did anything else the nurses offered me. About 3 minutes later, the obstetrician entered the room and I immediately felt as if I were going to be sick.

He walked over to me, "Alright Mrs. Jackman, you'll slip your feet in these stirrups here on the bed and we'll start pushing."

I nodded as he guided my feet into the stirrups and got into position to help me deliver my baby. I quickly looked at Hugh, who was standing beside me, at my head with a tight grip on my hand.

Dr. Whitin looked at me, "On the count of 3, I want you to push for me, okay?" He instructed me.

I nodded, closing my eyes as he began to count. Once he hit 3, I pushed hard, praying for relief. Praying for this pain to subside. He did another three count and a nod for me to push again. Still nothing.

After the third attempt at pushing, I looked at Hugh, completely out of breath, tears pouring down my face, "I can't do this. It hurts too bad."

He quickly grabbed both of my cheeks, looking me in the eyes, "You can do this, baby. You can do this. Just keep going."

I exhaled sharply as Dr. Whitin did another 3 count for me to push. I pushed, but nothing was happening. I felt myself slipping into a panic attack as the pain was at an all time high and nothing seemed to be working. Hugh continued running his fingers through my hair, his other hand holding mine. I'm sure I'd damn near been his hand during pushes.

"If the next push doesn't get the baby, we'll need to take you for an emergency c-section. Listen to me, I need you to push as hard as you can. I know it hurts, but we have to do this as quickly as possible, alright?" Dr. Whitin said, sounding a bit concerned.

He held his hand up and began another three count, "Push!" I heard him, the nurses and Hugh yell. I pushed as hard as my body would possibly let me, screaming at the top of my lungs.

I felt light headed. I didn't know if I were going to vomit or pass out at this point. I hear cries filling the room, but I'm too exhausted to move or try to look. Hugh looks at me with tears pooling in his eyes, as he leaned down kissing my head.

"Looks like it's a little girl!" Dr. Whitin exclaimed, holding the baby up  and allowing Hugh to cut the cord before the nurses rushed our baby girl to be cleaned up.

"You did it, mama. She's here." Hugh cried, seeing the sight of his beautiful little girl.

Before I could react, Nurse Jackie came and laid her on my chest. "Look at that beautiful baby. She has a head full of hair!"

I wrapped my arms around the baby that was swaddled in a blanket and looked down at her. She had a head full of dark brown hair. She was the perfect mix of Hugh and I. Perfect in every way. I heard him sniffle beside me, looking down at her.

"She's perfect." He cooed, "Hi Paisley, it's your daddy." His smile was the biggest I'd ever seen it.

I looked up to him, "Hold her." I said, passing her towards him. As he grabbed her from me, his eyes had a glimmer in them that I'd never seen before. Not even from his films. 

He peered down at the small 5lb newborn in his arms, smiling down at her. "She's so perfect." He looked back up at me, "Thank you." He said softly. 

I cocked my head to the side, "For what?" I asked, furrowing my brows. 

He sniffled, looking down at Paisley, "For her. She's everything I imagined she would be." He said softly as she looked up at him cooeing. 

I closed my eyes, resting my back against the pillow. Paisley was perfect. He was the perfect husband, who I'd always known would be the perfect father. I'd fallen into a peaceful slumber overhearing him singing to our daughter as he cradled her.  

[kooberist]

𝚆𝙷𝚈 𝙳𝙾𝙽𝚃 𝚈𝙾𝚄 𝙻𝙾𝚅𝙴 𝚈𝙾𝚄𝚁 𝙻𝙸𝚃𝚃𝙻𝙴 𝙶𝙸𝚁𝙻?

pairing: doctor!jungkook x menatally insane!reader

warnings: smut, one sided love, 21 year age gap

jk is 40 and reader is 19

Jungkooks big frame under yours as your hips bounce on his with every plop and bounce. Sweat pours out of every pore on your body as the room fills with the smell of fresh sheets and sex. The older man's cock hits every spot in your pussy with ease from how wet he got you. "Holly fuck. Fuck me daddy fuck," you exclaimed as his tip kissed against your gspot and your high built.

Legs trembling and giving out but keeping up just for your realse You felt a wave of pleasure wash over you as you felt yourself come undone. The doctors' thrusts became more intense and your body began to quiver as you felt yourself about to explode. You came, your orgasm taking you by surprise as you screamed in pleasure.

Jungkook placed his cigarette in the pink heart shaped ash tray you made for him and took a tight grip of your hips as he started to bounce you up and down on his creamy cock

"Selfish whore only cares about herself" he gritted through his teeth. His thrusts became faster and deeper as he felt you tighten around him. You screamed in pleasure as he brought you closer and closer to the edge of pleasure. You both climaxed in harmony, and he held you close as you came down from your high.

+

"I love you, Daddy," you said lowly as you brought the ciggarete to your lips. Your words made Jungkook want to throw up. He had a wife and three kids—something to live for. Jungkook knew you had issues and problems (no shit, he works at a mental hospital and gets paid for girls like you to tell him the problem). Jungkook looked at you as nothing more than a vagina and a patient; that's it. "What the fuck are you talking about, Y/N?" he asked as he cocked his head to meet your eyes.

His words and facial expression hit you hard as you realized he didn't love you the way you loved him. He was just going to take advantage of you after all the flirting, making out, and serious sh*t you two had exchanged.

You sat up, bringing your head off his chest as you looked at him. "I love you, Jungkook. You told me you'd take care of me and keep me close." That last sentence made the lump in your throat feel as if you couldn't breathe. Gathering your clothes while teardrops rolled down your cheeks. "Y/N, are you fucking insane? I have a life and a family; I can't fucking give that up for some mentally ill little girl with Daddy issues."

It hit you like a truck. "You told me, Jeon. You called me your girl and your bunnie. You were my first, and I gave myself to you. Does that fucking mean nothing?"

"C'mon, you know I didn't mean it." His words were cut off by your burst of anger.

"Fuck you and stay away from me before I get your sorry ass fired!" You threw every piece of clothing you had in your hands at the man in front of you as tears flooded your eyes.

Droplets leave a trail behind the swaying blanket wrapped around your body as you walk to your room.

[hoardcloneheadcanons]

Stone & Robotnik's Gaggle of Robot Children P3

Stone meets up with an old colleague and keeps his temper mostly in check.

Ch 9- Stone and Metal Amsterdam Part 3

The improvements that Stone made to Metal were slow and groggy. Bit by bit.

He'd started calling the project Metal when he thought about it and talked about it. He preferred not to think of the blue hedgehog when he didn’t have to.

Besides, it deserved its own name.

Metal was an impressive wonder as a semi-independent automaton, but he still could not go very fast.

Stone had a rigged a treadmill rinside the hideout to track the little robot as it ran, making it run until failure, adjusting its joints and then trying again.

They added 10 mph after trying out five different lubricants on his joints. Another 20 mph after changing his fasteners. Another 10 after changing the weight around in his chest-plate.

They'd gotten to 80 mph. Fast for a bipedal creature of his size. But not Sonic fast, not even close. And they still hadn't tested him on turns.

Stone could feel the self-hatred creeping in, his failure to protect Robotnik coloring the way he felt about all these tests, about his lack of progress.

There was a little part of him that had expected this to be easier, and he felt guilty for it existing. How dare he thought he could replace the great Doctor Robotnik? How dare he think he could just slide into a project he couldn’t finish, and get it swiftly done?

It's-just-

Towards the end? Robotnik's experimental design had sucked. It truly had.

Robotnik was still as smart as ever, but his self-destructive tendencies and impatience with himself leaked into how he did experiments. It wasn’t careful, it wasn’t cautious, it wasn't measured, there was no room to collect data.

He'd use walls as turning barriers for obstacle courses instead of traffic cones, and crank the treadmill up to speeds higher than they'd proved Metal could go,  going in units of 50 mph with each trial instead of 5 or even 10. Either he'd been too eager to get affirmation that his design worked or he simply desired to express his frustration on something and Metal was there.

So was Stone.

Stone had always been there for Robotnik's yelling and destruction. The weeping had been new. And it both delighted him that the Doctor was trusting him to see such a delicate piece of vulnerability and terrified him how much everything he’d relied on was shifting and changing through his fingers.

In the present day, Stone adjusted the weights in Metal’s chest to allow him to slightly tilt forward without falling over. He breezed through 10, 20, 30, 40 mph with complete success.

Stone was sleeping more these days. Fitfully, but he was in bed on schedule. He was jogging again. Half measures. Struggling to move things forward.

50 mph, stable 60 mph, and Stone could see some of the vibration in his legs.

He was tempted to shave his beard off completely so he didn't have to think about it anymore, but he didn't want to admit defeat against his own facial hair. He rubbed his hand over his face, thinking about it, and one of the badniks turned to look at him.

They did that now- tracked his emotions. They watched him if they saw his shoulders tensing or his breathing quicken, and they flew closer to him waiting for... something. A command to fire maybe?

They used to do the same for the Doctor when he was alive.

He'd watch them gather near Robotnik and know that it was time to get him a distraction, or coffee or a punching bag.

Often a verbal punching bag. Someone else if he could find them, but himself if he couldn't.

They did it for Stone now. And he didn't know how he felt about it.

Metal hit 80 mph on the treadmill and his leg fell off again.

Stones' teeth clicked, and all the badniks turned to look at him, a dozen and a half unblinking red eyes turned towards the two of them.

Stone caught Metal as he fell off and turned off the treadmill.

He inhaled.

Exhaled.

"A failed test is not a failure, simply a gathering of more data."

It was something Robotnik said in one of his better moods after he'd blown up his lab. He'd said it was a burnt sleeve and a maniacal laugh.

(It’s fine Stone, It’s the necessary damage of progress, we’ll bill it to our budget, have some of these idiots clean it up and do it all again tomorrow. Maybe with less fuel.)

Stone said it now to keep his temper in check.

"You did fine, we learned more, we'll try again in the morning"

He didn't know if he said it to himself more or Metal, but someone needed to hear it. His voice was still tense, restrained.

"I'm going to take a walk."

.....................

Ch 10 - Stone and Future Plans

Whenever Stone felt like he was going to blow up in his (Robotnik's. It was always still Robotnik's) lab, he took a walk back to Crab and scavenged for parts.

He'd bought an old boat with the last dregs of his old coffee shop funds. He was planning to take it back to the States. It would be good for Metal to have a place to run around somewhere other than a treadmill, somewhere where they wouldn't be seen,

A desert would work. There was a small safe house in New Mexico that would do.

He went to the junkyard he’d hidden the crab in.  Its claws were hidden under old cars and washing machines, exposing the half-wrenched off doorway only. Hidden in plain site.

He was in his head about it all. It was all going too slowly. He knew he was comparing himself to an unreasonable standard, but at this point it would take years to get Metal up to his expected design. He'd have to study microelectronics and jet-propulsion, and possibly alien anatomy to begin to understand the kind of upgrades he could make.

He had a rough knowledge of each, but enough to do maintenance, not innovation. He'd been relying on his knowledge of mechanics and he was quickly using up the extent of his expertise. He’d have to study each. It would take years. And any progress would be delayed as he found ways to acquire more funds.

He would do it even if it took years, that wasn’t a question, but could he even finish it before he died? And were the practical logistics of survival and day to day living during that time?

It's what he was thinking about as he was carefully extracting one of the larger motors from the crab, acting every part of the carrion all in black.

It was his focus on his task and his thoughts that prevented him from seeing the subtle shift in light as someone slid into the doorway behind him, took aim and shot one tranquilizer dart into his neck.

He felt the sharp bite in the vein, and the sudden heaviness of his limbs before he realized what he had missed

..............

Ch 11 - Dust and Stone

He awoke still in the crab, but with a lot more zip-ties around his ankles and wrists.

In front of him was the collection of cheap liquor that he'd left in the Crab, far away from where the badniks could see it.

One of the bottles sat squarely in the hand of the Agent in front of him. She was a tall, blond, woman with her hair in a ponytail that perpetually had small strands coming out of it. The lid was off and she'd taken the liberty of helping herself to some of his supply.

“Hello” She said, taking another swig, heavy slavic accent cutting through his groggy hazy “Are you awake?” 

"Agent Dostoyevsky”

"So formal, and after all the missions we've had together. Please, call me Dost"

......

She'd said the same thing when they met 12 years ago. "Please, call me Dost."

Stone didn't see the point in picking a long code name if you were going to shorten it at every opportunity. If she wanted something short she should've picked it at the beginning.

He said as much to her when they first met.

"Our employer is going to ask us to give up every part of our friends, family and all past history for the job, let me keep my favorite author." She'd responded, "Besides, it keeps a separation between my friends and bosses. My friends call me Dost, my employers call me Dostoyevsky, and I get to see their tongue trip over the word."

She said it with a smile, and the implication of “look, I’m letting you into my friend group, don’t you feel special.” He didn’t. He’d simply felt manipulated, and like she was over-reaching.

Stone and her had worked together as field agents when they were both in a probationary period of employment. They both specialized in espionage and targeted assassination. Covert work.

Stone was on probation because he liked to reuse the techniques he found were most efficient and he gained a noticeable signature. 

Dostoyevsky was on probation because her timetables were awful. She treated each one of her assignments like a vacation and would take time to try the local food, wine, and women. Sometimes men but mostly women.

 For six months Stone put up with every minor tawdry affair, and distraction. He pulled her away from restaurants and flirtations and back to the assignment, and, due to the fact that he was adapting to her natural chaos, he was forced to use new techniques. Both of them improved.

Which is why it still, to this day, confused him that he'd been taken off of field work, and reassigned lab-work with Robotnik. He liked the end-result, but he didn’t understand what his superiors were thinking. He’d done what they’d asked. He’d changed his techniques, he’d even learned some from her. Why had he still been removed from field work?

In his more optimistic times, he suspected that the Agency had used him to keep Robotnik on task after he'd done so admirably at keeping Dostoyevsky on task.

In his less optimistic times, he suspected Agent Dostoyevsky had said something about his behavior in their post-work assessment that that poisoned the well with his commanding officers.

[granolawriting]

A change in fate ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

pairing: no breakout!Joel x fem reader

Summary: Your toxic ex kicks you out of your place without another word. Only hiring a mover to get your stuff somewhere else. And when Joel finds you in a state of disarray, and stays indifferent, you butt heads until it comes to a head when your paths cross again after that night. That time, much more complicated.

Content warning: age gap, you're 21 and Joel is mid 30s to early 40s. Enemies to lovers.

word count: 4k

A/N: this is the first of a two-part series inspired by an old movie I grew up with. If you can recognize it, I'll like, give you a really big treat. no nsfw this chapter, but the next one will. And as always, let me know if you like my work or if you have any suggestions for anything else I could write :)

Part 2 out now!!: to make you forget

“NO. No. No no no no no no no NO!!!” 

Your fist hits solid wood once more. Every slam that pounds upon its impenetrable front leaves a mark on your hand in the shape of bruises and soreness-- you try the door once more. It's locked, as it had been the last ten times you attempted to open it. Desperation laced in the fruitless fervor that played its sound of metal clanking on metal as the knob refused to turn. 

The thump on the ground follows a fall of your knees. Defeated, hopeless, in a dress that isn't even yours. Tears stream from your face in such passion you can't even feel them anymore as more of you is wet than it is dry. You imagine you look a mess, hair disheveled as you held it as you screamed at him-- makeup once beautiful and elegant streams down and across your face in the motion your hands chose to wipe away your tears. 

A screeching of tires followed by the shutting of a door is what knocks you out of this pathetic display. A man walks over to you and begins to pick up the boxes right beside you, carrying them to the back of his truck that has the title “MOVERS” painted on its side. You clamor to your feet, disorientation doesn't help the heels strapped to your feet as you chase after him;

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going with those? Who the hell are you?”

Rancor coats your tongue as your anger spits out onto him, He stands in the middle of an empty parking lot with only the light emanating from houses and lamps decorating the street are you able to take him in. 

He was tall, perhaps 6ft, an older man. Salt and pepper hair covered just above his forehead and a stern face was complimented by equally gruff facial hair of similar color, and a frown that seemed natural for him. He wore an old jacket-- probably made in the same year you were born with plaid linings on its inside to support a Carhartt branded outside. All the clothes upon his body seemed worn, from the stained jeans and a belt fitted so many times it might as well have been made for the exact curve of his body, to the heavy worker's boots with every scratch telling a story beyond your years. He looks at you. Up and down his eyes register curiously the woman that stood before him. He scoffs, and with a low Texan drawl he replies in kind; 

“Well princess, looks here like someone was kind enough to get yourself a mover for all them boxes outside the house. ‘Supose you know where i'm to drop em off?” 

“They can stay right here.” 

It comes out of you not in a literal sense, but you guess a plea of desperation. You can't imagine that this is actually happening. You can't just leave. After all the years you spent with him, all the hours you poured into his care and the best he can do is call up some old guy to take your shit somewhere else? 

“Now you know I can't do that. I ain't come all the way down here just for’ nothin. Now, I was hired to move, least you can let me do is my job.” 

His palms outstretched to you as he finishes putting the first box in the back of his truck, looking to you with little care for what you’re properly going through, moreso just a plea to let him go home sometime before 1 in the morning. 

your breath grows uneven again, you feel something build up in you again as you just refuse to accept this. Turning your back to him, you storm over to another box untouched by him and kick it, screaming and crying and truly just making a mess of yourself as you collapse once again on the curb of the sidewalk. Folding your arms across your knees, and with a head buried deep in your chest you sit there for a moment as you listen to the crunch of his boots against the loose gravel along the pavement trail back and forth past you as each box is stored into the vehicle. 

“Still haven't given me an address. Or were ya’ thinkin' of just sitting here and lettin' me take yer’ things?” 

Irritation follows his tone as he becomes increasingly impatient about your behavior. 

“I don't have anywhere to go.” 

“Surely you got someplace. Now get a move on, I'm bout damn tired of all this.” 

He drags you up by your upper arms, feeling his calloused hands hold onto the smoothness of your body as he lifts you to your feet. Shocked though, you push him away from you in haste;

“I can get up by myself. Thank you very much.”

You dust yourself off for just a moment before continuing, he looks at you with impatience.

“And I need a ride.” 

He stammers a bit as he begins to speak, 

“A- fucking,? Damn. alright then. Just get the hell on alright? Sure you wouldn't want em’ having to pay me extra.” 

He walks back to his truck as you follow, The two footsteps upon the concrete road are all that can be heard in the neighborhood as your pain slowly wells into your chest, and the outbursts cease. 

------------------------------------

“Now, listen here. We've been drivin' for damn near an hour now, and ain't nothing come of it. Where the hell am I takin you? Or I'm about to leave ya on the side of the damn road. I've got a kid at home.” 

“Just take me to the other side of town.”

“Are you fuckin kidding me? Now, I don't know what you've got goin on and I truly, don't want to. But you're real damn selfish ya know that? Makin me drive all over town like this like I'm some goddamn taxi. This place best got some money to pay me for.” 

His voice is deep, gruff, and when laced with the anger of a despondent woman who seems as if she has all the time in the world he's not keen to hold back judgment anymore. His hand grips the steering wheel firmly and doesn't look at you for a moment as he speaks to you. 

You're taken aback, to say the least. After the pain you've felt, the torment you've faced the only thing to greet you is the unwanted mouth of some old man who doesn't know what he's talking about.

“I'm selfish? You don't know the night I've had. How can you call me selfish? You were hired for a reason so why don't you just do your fucking job okay? As long as you’re getting paid it shouldn't matter a damn to you.” 

You shrug your shoulders and cross your arms in his passenger seat, watching him with disdain as he grips the wheel and drives relatively carelessly through the empty streets just to get you out. 

After a few minutes more, and by a few you mean around 30, you find yourself in front of a home you’d never think to see again truthfully. As you take in the sight of it, a simple house facing an otherwise unimpactful street, but you held memories of all your years within the confines of these blocks. You were home, after so many years away. 

“Get out.” 

He says bluntly. The clock shines a bright 1:47 on its dash, signifying that you definitely didn't meet his “before 1” pleas. But damn, could he have been any nicer about it? 

You watch as he hops out of the car himself, to the sound of a hard opening of the back that held all your belongings. And as you made your way ever so slowly out of his truck, trying to not fall as the step was coated in the darkness of the night that was no longer politely illuminated by street lights. As you made your way to the concrete below you, rounding his truck was he almost done putting your stuff back out, only on a different curb this time. And without a second to spare, he gets back into his truck, and leaves. Not a word said to you, not even an exchange.

What an asshole. 

-------------------------------------------

“So you’re telling me, that the man you were with for how many years, kicked you out for what?” 

The voice of your childhood friend rang once more through the old walls of the house, in the kitchen where you two sat. this was her family home, one that she now inherited, and one that after many years of silence on your part, she gladly opened up to you as well. 

“We were together almost 3 years. And he just, found another girl I guess. But she was in my closet, filled with her clothes. It's as if he’d moved me out overnight. He didn't have a word to say to me, it's like I never even mattered to him. But I've told you this time and time again, what more can I even do at this point?” 

She repositions herself with her legs crossing over one another as she looks for a response, taking a sip of coffee before having it dawn on her. 

“Today. 3 pm. Uncles holding a barbeque. You remember my uncle right? Everyone will be there. Maybe we could find you a good little rebound to bring you down to earth.” 

“Are you- a rebound? Seriously? Is that all you can think of right now?” 

“Listen. The only thing you can do with a broken heart is fix it. And that doesn't happen in a day. Least you can do is get something tasty to chase the pain with. Like hot old guys. You’re only 21! This is the prime time to do whatever you want.” 

You think for a second. Letting this wash over you as you try and figure out the next thing to do. Do you really doll yourself up after the most traumatic evening of your life is not even 24 hours in your past, just to eye all of your friends older relatives, and family friends that you’ve been ogling at since you were 16? 

I mean fuck it, what else are you going to do. 

Following your friend up the stairs, she lets out an excited giggle at the prospect of having you back after so many years. There's so many things to tell, different people to see, and subsequently laugh at, but the best of all her skills with a brush have gotten much better since the last time she helped you look good. Much better, apparently for as you looked at yourself in the mirror you could barely recognize the woman looking back at you-- let alone any trace of the girl sat in a torn dress the night before screaming outside her ex’s house. 

You put on a pretty yellow dress, adorned with flowers It's hemmed all properly frilled to some level, and the flow of the skirt portion barely getting over your back end does the top also treat you well; a low neck cup to shape your chest perfectly as the daintiness of your outfit, paired with little yellow heels, made you look properly irresistible. 

-----------------------------------

“Guess whos backkk!!!”

The excited shrills of your friend beside you make everyone who'd arrived at the party thus far to crane their heads back to look, all of which subsequently smiled with shock as they looked upon you. None of them had seen you since you were 17, about 18 years old. That's when you left, the moment you could. Looking back you missed all of this so much, the community, the story told in every face that looked upon you. But all is lost now and the most you can do is make the best out of the time you have right now-- and as it stands you’re at the center of it all. 

They approach you by the droves, asking every question they can that have undoubtedly had rumored answers to in your absence; detailing from where you've been, what you’re doing, where you go to school, where you work, and most hurtful-- how your ex was doing. You briefly told them all that you and him had since parted, and that you were just getting back on track, spending some time at your friend's house in the meantime. They all looked upon you in sympathy, but as more people entered the party the more they dispersed to greet other guests. 

“Oh my god, is that who I think it is?” 

A low, familiar tone enters the backyard where you stand, and turning around to face you is your friend's father. Who, for most of your life was like a father to you as well. He opens his arms and you follow suit, embracing him in what feels like a much-needed hug, before setting you down again to continue talking to you. 

“Oh, honey if, if I'd known you were coming I'd have brought you something. How long has it been since I last saw you? God, you seem so grown up now. It's like I barely even know you.” 

His head moves to look behind him for a second, and soon he ushers someone forward to join in the conversation. 

“Ah, there's something I'd love for you to meet. This is a good friend of mine, Joel. I haven't had him around any of these much, he just moved back here from Texas a couple weeks back. But he's someone I've known my whole life. Kinda like you and my daughter in a way!” 

Though as the man who emerged behind him reared his head, you couldn't believe your eyes. It was him, of course, it was him. That asshole that drove you home like you were the greatest burden he's ever had to carry. 

“Yer fuckin kidding me.” 

He looks at you in shock. Nothing more. However, you see that to his side is a young girl, no older than 12 who seems to be in awe over you. Her hair was tucked into each side of her face to illuminate it in a crown of curls that came to her shoulder and stretched all the way to her ears in volume. She wore a small shark tooth necklace, and some form of singer on her shirt that you didn't recognize.

He-, Joel, looks down at her; 

“Sarah how bout you go say hi to your friends for me. I'm gonna be busy a moment” 

She runs off, and your friend's dad begins to speak again. 

“Do you, know each other from somewhere? I can't imagine you do.” 

“She's that insane little girl I told you ‘bout. The one kickin n’ screaming all over the place. Reason why Sarah hadta’ stay the night at your place.” 

“The insane little girl?” 

You chime in.

“There's no way- Joel, you’ve probably got the wrong girl” 

“No, he has the right one.” 

You stare directly at him, sending daggers into each of the brown eyes that look back at you. 

“He kicked me out of his car at almost 2 in the morning without a single word. Isn't that right?” 

Though no matter how piercing your gaze it fails to impact him as it should, for with equal level tone he snipes back; 

“Yep, after makin me drive all the way cross’ town just cause she wanted to. Knowin I got someone waitin’ for me. Clearly, something she don't understand all too much anymore.” 

That was unnecessary. 

Something brews inside of you as you glance upon his finger void of a ring, even a tan that would indicate its recent removal. Though as the only sane-minded person seemingly left to observe watches your eyes as you make such a connection, he swiftly puts an end to it. 

“Now, Joel. you know how young girls are they-” 

“I'm not that young.” 

“Alright well, they. Are just passionate, that's all. She was with him for how many was it now? Three years? Left the moment she turned of age. Clearly she just doesn't know how a mans supposed to be. This is all she really knows.” 

This is all she really knows.

That's all that rang through your head as the conversation died and Joel exchanged brief apology. That in a way, he was all you really knew. And now you’re back home, and you don't know what to do with yourself, really. You don't know what you like, or what you don't like. It was all just, him. For so long. You vowed to yourself that day that, no matter what went on you would say yes to anything. To embrace kind of, anything that came your way as some divine fate, or at the very least a fun experience. 

As the night droned on, and you fielded the barrage of squeals, hugs from people you don't remember, and a bit more liquor you could've accounted for, the night came to a slow end. Feeling eyes on you constantly was one thing, but feeling the eyes on the man with who’d you'd had a comfortable reunion was even worse in a way. Although, as you looked upon him in your own moments you saw in him something unveiled after the veil of hatred and sorrow fell off of you. Something, interesting about him. Attractive. Obviously nothing you were going to personally indulge in, but an interesting assertion nonetheless. He stood in the light of the evening, fairy lights covering the backyard as it illuminated his now more time-appropriate outfit; one of marginally better jeans and a plaid shirt, rolled to his elbows to reveal what were impressive forearms, and with the proper fit of his shirt, showed an impressive physique for a single dad.

… … …

 Thats stupid. Anyways, the night drew to a close and as you saw your friend too wrapped up in the conversation of someone relatively older than her, you decided to take the few blocks walk home, especially since you didn't have a car anymore either. Though as you exit the front door to travel down the sidewalk you hear a familiar accent call out to you after only a few feet have been made distance between you and the doorframe; 

“Ya’ walking home this late at night?” 

“Yeah, I am. Not like I've got a car do I?” 

You turn your body to look at him, but only after you've finished your sentence, using the body language of someone unequipped for any more stupid banter to cue him into leaving you alone. 

“How’s about I drive you home. Least I can do after what I’d said today. It wasent quite my place.” 

His voice has an unfamiliar tune of sympathy as he lets out that apology of sorts, so you engage. Though, begrudgingly. 

“Don’t you have a daughter to take care of? That seemed what got you so mad before.” 

He sighs a little, you notice you've hit a bit of a nerve. 

“Well, she’ll be stayin' at a friend's place for a few days, really hit it off. Got nothin but time on my hands now.” 

“Well in that case I'm not gonna say no to a free ride. Obviously.” 

You smile a bit, a first with him. Other than ones of sarcasm, every interaction you've had with him thus far hasn't been all that pleasant. And he smiles back. And, as the light of the moon shines down upon his weathered face, the smirk on his makes your smile grow even more. 

Hopping into his car once more, you take the road to your place with a little more enjoyment than how it transpired the night before. This time, the sound of his music accompanied by a hum through his car is what played to fill the silence of the atmosphere. Something old, country, of course. You’d never heard it, and it sounded well beyond even his years. But despite that, there was a comforting air that was shared in the car-- cool air blowing in from the windows rolled down, watching as his arm held on to the side of the car door from the open window, tapping its side in unison to the beat. 

“This here is it right?” 

Pulling up to your shared home you felt almost a little reluctant to respond with a yes. Though when you do, he steps out of the car as you do as well. You watch as he awaits your circle to the front where he stood, as a means to walk with you to the front of your door. Looking at him curiously as you reach the entrance, he gives response to your motions, though you watch as his fingers fiddle with one another ever so slightly as he poses such a response;

“It ain’t right leaving a lady to walk all by herself after dropping her off. And, I just wanted to say again that it ain't my place makin assumptions about you like that. Wanted to know if I could make it up to ya’. Kinda seems like lifes dealt you a bad hand right now, thought to offer you a drink over it.” 

A drink? 

You thought about that for a second. The man that kicked you out of his car, literally less than 24 hours ago, is now offering to take you out for a drink. Well, it was as a means for apology. So that's something. Nothing more to it, it's a Southern thing. They drink to anything. Especially sorrow. 

“I think I’ll have to take you up on that. You’ll know where I’ll be.” 

You reply with a smile that grows just large enough to show your teeth. He gazed at you for a bit longer, as his eyes grew brighter at the prospect of an invitation accepted. He was a lot less harsh than meets the eye, it seemed. But you still weren't properly convinced. And, there was still much a mystery about him that although intimidated you, enticed you even more. You cock your hip to the side of the doorframe, leaning up against it as he spoke to you as a means to accentuate your figure just a bit as he looked at you. Just to see what would happen. 

“Oh, alright then. 7 alright with you? I’ll come pick you up course’.” 

“Seven’s more than alright with me. I'll see you then, Joel.” 

As you bid farewell to him, you watched as his eyes tracked your movements as you did so. The way your hips have shifted place, the tone at which your voice shifted ever so slightly. He took in your gaze, a small cat eye that sharpened your eyes paired with the sly smile of a woman your age was enough to catch his stare for a moments longer than it should've. You relished in that. 

He leaves you off with a nod and a smile, though you take the time that he walks back to his truck as a means to take in all that he was without interruption. He was handsome, to say the least. There was something to be said about a man with southern hospitality and an ass made from manual labor that reached deeper into a realm of attraction that was often untapped by the men of your age range. And you enjoyed greatly that you’d discovered such a thing. 

Tomorrow, 7pm, Joel. 

[didi-writes]

♡ 𝆬   teacher! William Afton x reader

characters : 2497

warnings : big age gap (reader is around 20 and William is in his 40s) , teacher x student relationship, mentions of rough home situations, use of darling nickname, non-consensual kiss

notes : not proofread, sorry for any grammar mistakes! hope you enjoy anyways ♡

fluff + gender neutral reader

He sighs, putting down the papers he was grading and turning around in the chair. He faces the classroom, everyone busy chatting or doing whatever. William coughs and stands up, the classroom falls silent and he smiles slightly "I'll be handing out everyone's test from last week now. Let's all overlook it together, hmm?" He says and starts to hand out the papers. Giving each student their test back, William walks over to Y/N, placing the paper down onto their desk. "Meet me after class, please?" He asks, in a low but calm tone. They nod at him and pick up the paper, Y/N's eyes scanning across the letter filled paper, a big red F marked at the top of it.

They sigh and look back up at William again, who has now returned to the front of the classroom. "If any of you have any questions while I explain all the questions that were given on the test save them until I'm done, yeah?". William Afton, was Y/N's history teacher, he was fairly older than themselves. Y/N wasn't necessarily bad at history but since things at home had been rough they didn't get the chance to revise all the topics that were discussed in class at home, and so failed the test this time.

As William stood there explaining the questions, Y/N stared at him. Noticing how his tone of voice was calm and low, the way he stood there awkwardly in his brown pants and light vest, the dark purple tie tied around his neck. Y/N started to blush slightly as she stared at the man. William put his hands into his pockets and let out a long sigh "Well then, any questions?" He all of a sudden says, causing Y/N to flinch a bit and return back from their daydreaming. Nobody in class says anything nor raises their hands. William nods and turns around to walk back to his desk, sitting down on the chair that stood by it. "Well then..." He says, looking up at the clock hanging on the wall behind him. "School's almost out, why don't u all do some studying until the bell rings" he says, the class all nod and do the exact opposite. Y/N sat there fidgeting with their fingers, turning to look outside of the window.

A few minutes pass until suddenly the bell rang, everyone quickly got up and left the classroom, leaving just Y/N and William behind. "Well then Y/N, care to explain this grade to me?" He speaks, getting up from the chair and closing the door to the classroom. He walks back and sits down, Y/N gets up from their desk and walks up to William's desk.

"Uhm...i guess I just didn't study, sorry" they awkwardly reply. William nods slowly and let's out a low hum "All of your other grades were rather good, what made u not study?" He asks, his facial expression serious as he stares into Y/N's eyes. "It's....really none of your business to be honest Mr.Afton" they blurt out, a bit louder than a whisper. William's eyes widen a bit and he chuckles "If you tell me I may be able to help. You don't want to redo the year now, do you darling?" He says, the 'darling' catching Y/N off guard. They look at him, cheeks blushing slightly as they shake their head no. "No....its just been rough at home, I haven't been able to study" Y/N replies rather quiet and looks away, letting out a soft sigh.

William understandingly nods and stands up, he places a hand onto their shoulder, his height towering over Y/N's. "I'm here for you, do u want to talk about it?" He says, calmly. They look up at him, tears prickling at their eyes. Y/N starts sobbing, William gets caught off guard but quickly wraps his arms around Y/N as reaction. They continue to sob, William gently strokes their back with his big hand "shh..its okay" he says and continues to comfort them. Y/N pulls away and wipes their tears away with the palm of their hand. William smiles softly at them and reaches his hand up to their cheek, helping Y/N wipe their tears away.

He looks down at them, not thinking and leaning in, kissing Y/N on the lips. They freeze, in shock of the sudden kiss until William pulls back. "....sorry, I didn't think straight, this is..this is wrong" he blurts out, backing up a bit. Y/N slowly shakes their head "..it's alright with me" they softly whisper. William looks at them, a soft blush coating his cheeks after having kissed them. He grins and nods "then, meet me here again tomorrow after your last period. You should be going now, darling" he says. Y/N nods and quickly makes their way out of William's classroom, looking back once more and smiling slightly at the man. They close the door and let out a soft sigh, releasing it was wrong to want him but not caring anyways.

thanks for reading,, have a good day or night ᰔᩚ

[wannab-urs]

Outtakes - Boys Kissing

An outtake for the people like me who love reading pedro boy x pedro boy. These are exclusively fics with no reader character, so if you're looking for MMF, check out my Multiples outtake. All fics are either M/M or M/M/M or... you get the point.

If you'd like to appear on the spreadsheet, drop me a message here or on my discord @/wannab_urs

AO3 | Kofi | Main Masterlist | The Spreadsheet Masterlist

Pretend Alleyways - Dieter/Marcus Moreno series by @radiowallet

One then two chance meetings between famed actor Dieter Bravo and lone wolf Heroic Marcus Moreno leave both yearning for a connection in the least likely of places. Diametrically opposed in every way, what happens when the two men decide to explore the spark of lightning between them?

Alternate universe, third person point of view, mlm dynamics, no reader insert, smut, drug use, smoking, language, drinking, violence, banter, teasing, arguments, depression, anxiety

A Lesson in Blackmailing - Joel/Veracruz one shot by @gasolinerainbowpuddles

What happens when a FEDRA officer working his way up the command ladder makes the grave error of crossing Joel Miller?

Smut, mlm dynamics, alternate universe, FEDRA!Veracruz, frottage, power dynamics, degradation, sir kink, attempted sexual coercion, dark!Joel, no reader insert

The only time we have - Din/Poe one shot by @nerdieforpedro

taking care of physical needs all Din and Poe doing? All they're capable of? Only the darkness and walls know.

anal sex, cum worship, body worship, rough sex, semi-public sex, cockwarming

Ahórcame, Papí - Joel/Frankie/Ezra one shot by @marisferasiop

After he gives a recovering addict a job (and subsequently falls head over heels for him), Joel and Frankie have a sweet, fulfilling relationship as Daddy and little exploring their kinks. Then, they meet Ezra at a leather club, another damaged vet with his own issues and kinks. They take him home, and he never really leaves.

Daddy Kink, Daddy/littles, pup kink, Breathplay (hands on throats), Orgasm Denial, Orgasm Delay, Orgasm Control "Training", Light BDSM, Aftercare, Soft Dom Joel, vers Ezra, Bottom Frankie Morales, Oral Sex, Cockwarming, AnalSex, Anal Play, Anal Plug, Breeding Kink, Heat/rut kink, PTSD mention (vets), gags, fingering, choking, cum eating, prostate milking, fucking machine mention, the elusive "sissygasm"

Hold Please - Dave/Javi P/Marcus Pike series by @ghostofaboy

Dave decides to arrange a little get-together for him, Javier and Marcus.

Anal fingering, oral sex, anal sex, facial, orgasm denial, threesome - m/m/m

Obscenery - Dave York/Tim Rockford series by @sin-djarin

Dave is worried about the day ahead and Tim offers him some advice.

M/M, Established D/s dynamics, edging, orgasm delay, these two come with their own warnings - in particular Tim's mouth and how much Dave really likes it.

Bloody Kisses - Tim Rockford/Dio series by @perotovar

shane has been in denial about himself for a while. newly single and with the help of one of his favorite singers, he opens his eyes to a new venture he could possibly take: the cop he sees on a semi-regular basis, detective tim rockford.

takes place in the early 00s, age gap (shane is 23, tim is 40), internalized homophobia, hurtful names (fairy boy, faggot, queer as a slur, etc), a gay porn magazine, lots of references to peter steele of type o negative (and his playgirl issue), male masturbation, acab, angst, protected p in a, fingering, excessive amounts of lube

In the shadows of others, we grow - Tim Rockford/Dave York series by @sin-djarin

What happens when you put two different areas of law enforcement in the same room a few times a year to atone for their 'sins'? You find common ground and figure it out. Together.

M/M, Established D/s dynamics, each chapter contains individual warnings.

I Know You By Heart - Joel/Ezra series by @sixhours

Joel and Ellie settle into their new lives in Jackson but it's not the easiest transition. Thankfully Jackson has a counselor to help with that.

Joel is bad at feelings and relationships, Ellie is a little shit (affectionate), canon-compliant with season 1, SMUT, gay sex, anal sex, anal fingering, blowjobs, bisexual!Joel, period-typical homophobia, light angst, angst with a happy ending, romance, alcoholic behavior, age gap (~10ish years so barely a thing)

Cosmic Oddities - Din/Joel series by fromthewhales (AO3)

Turning a clan of two into a clan of four and asking the very important, albeit unhinged question: What if space dad and apocalypse dad were Weird About Each Other?

parental bonding, parallels, angst, everyone has issues, everyone needs a hug, touch starved din djarin, injuries, strangers to ??? to lovers, smashing the space western and the zombie western together like 2 ken dolls, trauma, crack-fic adjacent at times, hurt/comfort, soft not super explicit smut, self harm, found family, din djarin eventually removes the helmet, blindfold, long distance relationship, survivors guilt, angst with a happy ending, non sexual intimacy, it gets worse before it gets better, alcohol mention, game II canon divergent — but boy does it come close, canon typical violence, minor character death, major character injury, bi!din djarin, bi!joel miller

Held by the Moon - Dieter/Dave one shot by @gasolinerainbowpuddles

Dieter is determined to prove his dedication to the film consultant on his latest project. Dave is determined to not cross any professional boundaries. Only one has the mental fortitude to see their intentions through.

dommy daddy subby baby vibes, "is somebody gonna match my freak?" is the main theme here, drugs/sobriety, Dave is uptight, Dieter is a silly goose, brief film industry stuff, heavy flirting, Dieter is on some Esmerelda shit and Dave is lusting bad like Frollo but without the attempted murder and self-righteous religious stuff, drug testing but make it erotic, this pairing made me insanely horny

Breaking Down Walls - Din/Dio one shot by @crowandmousewritingco (mouse)

Dio doesn't lose fights, but what happens when he does.

dio gets his ass beat, emotions, fluff

Baby, I'm-a Want You - Joel/Javi P series by @perotovar

javier peña has been doing this a long time. he's really good at his job. joel miller? not so much. he started doing this to get some extra cash to support his daughters. what happens when they're supposed to do a scene together? aka, the au where javier and joel are gay porn stars~

unprotected p in a, oral, fingering, ass eating, use of plugs, gay terminology (bear, twink, etc), handjobs, blowjobs, swearing, smoking

Non-standard Issue - Frankie/Ezra one shot by @bonezone44

Ezra and Frankie stay behind while the other Triple Frontier boys go out.

D/s, bondage, lacy undies, oral (m), lovingly degrading dirty talk (Ezra is a mess)

[easypeasylindyvesey]

hi avs lb!

get to know jimmy vesey!

-for starters, i call him “baby man” because of his baby looking face. he looks awful with facial hair, so it must be clean shaven at all times.

-31 years old (you wouldn’t think so at first glance, but yes, it’s true)

-position: left and right wing (we love versatility)

-season stats: 4G, 2A for a total of 6 points in 33 games (he could’ve played 49 games, but, well, you see, he got scratched for 16 of them (9 in a row btw), -2, 10:40 TOI/game

-mainly plays on the 4th line, but played on 3rd the past couple games with nyr, recorded a season high of 18:10 TOI last weekend in pittsburgh. every time he records double digit ice time, my heart is happy.

-only needs 8 more points until 200 career points!

-one of the best defensive forwards that the rangers had (god it’s so weird saying that in the past tense), throws some hits sometimes, but always, and i mean ALWAYS, misses on breakaways. i’m convinced he has performance anxiety or something😝

-is not the fastest skater, but i’m hoping he’ll be able to keep up with colorado’s pace!

-also very effective on the penalty kill. he hasn’t been on it throughout the season, but same thing as lindy in terms of being able to clear it down the ice and out of the offensive zone

-has a missing tooth and has yet to get it fixed, but at this point i think he’s just gonna embrace it as his signature look

-also has a very attractive voice (he is from boston so the accent is evident everytime he speaks)

-AND abnormally large hands (i will not elaborate)

-also loves dunkin’s bland coffee and plain bagels, along with chocolate munchkins. that’s the basic white boy order for you (and we have no choice but to stan)

-but in all honesty, he just needs a coach that has confidence in him to perform well & not be benched all the time! he is very special to me, and is just a great player that is respectful with the media & articulates his thoughts well. he’s very good with words (after all, he did go to harvard).

-i have full faith that he is in good hands. please take care of him. we’ll take care of juuso parssinen for you🫶🏻

[yourresidentstanlover]

Sooo this is a stan-centric blog, buuut I wanted to include various drawings of my gravity falls versions of my ocs, Mandy Simmons and Kyle Walker.

They're identical twins who were separated at 15 in foster care. They didn't see each other again until they were 52.

Mandy here worked with ford in the 80's. She presented as a man, and went by her middle name, Kennedy. It was fairly easy for her to pass, since she has PCOS which caused her to grow a decent amount of facial hair. She also has a more masculine build and is incredibly strong.

She worked with Ford until about a week before he fell into the portal. Ken left because Ford was going insane, and he couldn't handle it. He came back a few days after Ford fell in the portal, and decided to help Stanley bring him back. She gave up after about three years, and decided to leave and finish her education. Stan has no negative feelings towards her, both of them were stumped since the location of the two other journals was unknown.

But from improper binding and longs nights of work without a break, Amanda's ribs are all kinds of fucked up now. She had multiple cracked ribs from the binder being too tight, and her lungs are messed up from not being able to breathe properly.

Don't sleep in your binder kids.

Ken doesn't really give a fuck about her pronouns or his name, so call them whatever lol. She doesn't care.

This is Mandy and her wife, Kate ^^

Now Kyle's had it real rough. He ended up aging out of foster care at 18, and dropped out of college at 20. He lived out of his van for over a decade, and struggled with a serious drug addiction.

He lost his right arm at 26 and fell even deeper into despair. Kyle had to do a lot of unsavory things to survive, and has been arrested multiple times for petty crimes, drug possession, and prostitution.

After about 40-ish, he starts to get better, and he's managed to overcome his drug addiction (he still smokes a ton of weed tho).

He travels from place to place, not really staying in one area for too long. Kyle's got a lot of people after him.

He ends up in gravity falls, and stays for a bit while working as a waiter at Greasy's. He runs into Stan, they become quite friendly, and eventually Stan decides to rent out the storage room where the creepy wax statues were.

Kyle becomes pretty close to the Pines, and very attracted attached to Stanley. There's often a lot of sexual tension between them when they're alone.

Kyle waits until after Stan gets back from sailing on the Stan-o-War II before he tells him how he really feels.

And like Mandy, Kyle can't bind anymore. He fucked up his ribs from binding for too long with no breaks.

And Ford and Mandy built him a robotic prosthetic arm. Kyle doesn't wear it every day, but he will wear it when two hands make things easier.