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ovulationation · 28 days

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Big Girl

Pairing: bfd!Joel x reader

Summary: Joel Miller gets called to pick you and his drunken daughter up from a party. With a week left before you leave for college, Joel doesn’t think you’re ready for it.

Warnings: 18+, unprotected p-in-v (wrap it up, folks), daddy kink, praise, kitchen, creampie, best friend’s dad, age gap (reader is 19, Joel is around 40)

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You and Sarah had been inseparable since kindergarten. You did everything together. Every all nighter, every time you needed a new dress for a school dance, every new trend you did together. Sarah’s parents worked a lot so she spent almost all her extra time at your house.

When high school came around things started changing. Sarah’s mom left and her dad threw himself into his work. Sarah started going wild and you went right along with her. You started sneaking out, hooking up with boys, and partying every weekend. You both graduated high school (barely) and somehow made it into the same college. With only a week left until you moved into your dorm. Everyone was throwing the last parties of the summer, eager to get last memories with their high school friends.

That’s how you got where you are now, the loud blaring of the speakers as you danced in the random basement of the night. Sarah was beyond tipsy, dancing on the beer pong table while the guys all ogled her body in her short skirt and tight top. You were, unfortunately, the designated driver of the evening. Leaving you with the slightest buzz that had all but faded away.

You pulled out your phone, cursing when you saw the time.

“We gotta go, babe,” you yelled to Sarah over the thumping bass of the speakers.

Sarah look down at you with a pout as you grabbed her arm and helped her onto the dirt floor. Her white sneakers landed in a puddle of something spilled and you winced.

“Don’t wanna,” she whined, throwing her head back for dramatic effect.

You patted her back as you pushed her through the crowd in front of you.

“I know but your dad is gonna be getting home soon and we gotta get back before he realizes we’re gone.”

Sarah groaned as you push her up the stairs of the basement and into the backyard. You led her to the car as you fished around in your handbag.

“Fuck,” you groan and lean your forehead against the window.

Sarah didn’t hear you, too busy flirting with some grimy Super Senior™ to realize you had somehow lost the keys to her shiny new graduation gift.

You pull her away from the walking STD, and pull her back to the car.

“I lost the keys, I need you to keep your hand right here and Don’t. Move.” You spoke slowly, pushing her hand against the hood of the car. She nodded slowly with drooping eyelids then giggled.

“You look soooo funny when you’re serious.” She laughed and stumbled. You shoot her a half serious glare and head back into the basement to search for the keys.

After fifteen minutes of searching the dirty floor with your phone flashlight and trying to shout at people through the loud music, you come back up victoriously holding the keys in your hand. Your victory doesn’t last long when you see Sarah standing next to the car, and her dad next to her.

“Oh shit,” you groan as you walk up to them.

“Oh shit is right,” Joel glares down at you, Sarah draped against his shoulder.

“I called my dad to help,” Sarah giggled.

“I can explain-“

“In. Now.” Joel growls, pointing to his truck.

You just nod and walk over to the car. Joel drags Sarah into the back seat where she promptly passes out. You jump into the front seat and Joel gets into the driver seat, grumpily buckling up and peeling out of the driveway.

The drive back is tense. Only the sounds of Sarah snoring and the low grumble of the road. Joel occasionally glances at you then back at the road, his grip tightening around the steering wheel. You pull down your tight fitting dress. Maybe he’ll go easier on you if you don’t look like you belong on a street corner.

The car pulls into the driveway and Joel pulls Sarah out. You walk behind him as he carries her into her bedroom. Every glare he throws your way makes you duck your head more.

You can’t remember a time when you saw him this mad, but you were usually sneakier than this. You guys had never gotten caught, you always got home on time and made sure any evidence was gone before a parent could find it. Usually you would be back at your house with your sweet, but unfortunately super gullible parents who didn’t think you and Sarah could ever do anything wrong.

You helped Sarah into some pajamas and hoped to sneak out of the front door. You carefully walked through the living room, trying your hardest not to make any noise. The sound of a cupboard slamming shut behind you has you almost jumping out of your skin. You jump around, looking straight at Joel.

“I’m really sorry, Mr. Miller.” You immediately start.

“Look, I understand. You’re 19, you think it’s cool to go to parties,” Joel starts, his expression hard. He leans back against the counter, gesturing to the stool across from him. You scurry over and sit, pulling the hem of your dress down. “But this shit is dangerous. Y’all getting drunk and being around all those hormonal boys or God forbid getting behind a wheel.”

“I’m not drunk,” You argue, but one look from Joel has you shrinking back in your seat.

“You’re leaving in a week and you have no idea the shit that college boys think,” he crosses his arms across his chest. The sleeves of his flannel are rolled up to his elbows showing off his muscular forearms.

“I’m a big girl I can handle it.” You shoot back with a bite.

His eyebrows raise at your tone and he pushes off the counter to stand at his full height. Looking down at your smaller frame on the stool.

You can feel a wave of rebellion coarse through you as you look up at him. Sarah spent most of her time over the years at your house so you never really got to know Joel. You would see him in passing or at big life events for Sarah, but you rarely had to deal with him one on one. The fact that he could just stand there and scold you like a child when he didn’t even know you made anger bubble up inside you.

“You’re a big girl?” He steps closer to you.

You nod, suddenly feeling like prey being hunted

“Y-yes,” you stumble.

“You don’t sound too sure, Darlin,” he smirks down at you.

His eyes travel down, down to the hem of your too-tight dress that had made its way dangerously close to the top of your thighs. You cross your legs and squeeze your thighs together, hoping to shield yourself from his sight and hoping to stop the dull ache that had started to form.

“These aren’t the boys you’re used to dealing with, these are men. Can you handle a man?”

You bite your lip at his words. Maybe you were drunk. There’s no way q your best friend’s dad was standing less than a foot in front of you, undressing you with those brown eyes. There’s no way he was flirting with you after chastising you not even a minute ago. There’s no way you were enjoying it.

You nod up at him. “I can handle a man.”

He grins down at you, “prove it.”

Those two words set something ablaze in you. In a flash you’re snaking your arms around his neck and bringing his mouth to yours greedily. He returns it hungrily, wrapping his arms around your back.

You stumble off the stool and his hands are immediately on your ass. You let out a little yelp and he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. You gasp into the kiss, breathing him in as he explores every inch of your tongue.

His hands grip your ass, supporting you as you jump back onto the counter, leaving him stand in in between your spread legs. The hard bulge in the front of his pants rubs again you and he lets out a low groan against your lips.

He detaches his lips from yours, dragging them down your neck. He ruts softly against your clothed core, making you whimper and close your eyes. He growls against your neck, continuing his assault. You reach down to the front of his pants, sloppily undoing his belt.

Your hand slithers into his pants, wrapping around his impressive length. Your thumb grazes over his silky tip and he hisses, pulling back. He grabs your wrist

“Not yet, baby,” he mutters, starting to slowly kiss his way down your neck.

“Need it,” You whine, trying to pull him back to you with your legs.

His hands move to your thighs, pushing them apart to stop them from pulling him in. He pulls back and looks down at you, his cheeks flushed, his lips swollen. He pushes the hem of your dress up to your waist, revealing the black lacy panties that you wore for the party.

He drops to his knees, staring at the little pretty pink bow sitting on the front. His eyes never leave yours as he takes the bow between his teeth, pulling it back and then letting go. Letting it snap back to your skin. You feel yourself clench around nothing beneath the fabric and bite your swollen bottom lip.

“Look at that bow,” he groans, pushing his face forward again. His nose rubs against the bow as he presses a kiss directly to your clothed clit. “You’re like a present, wrapped up for me.”

“Mr. Miler please,” you gasp, not sure how much more you can take.

“Please what, baby,” He presses another kiss to the same spot.

“Please just do something,” Your lips parting in a needy whine. You try to move your hips forward, desperate for more, but his hold on your thighs tightens, stilling your movements. You groan in frustration.

Joel slips his fingers into the side of your panties, stretching them and pulling them aside. He lets out a groan as he sees you finally. Your swollen pink folds slick with your own arousal. He presses another kiss, this time to your bare clit. You gasp and tug in his hair, he lets out a growl.

“You taste so sweet, darlin,”

His tongue darts out to tease around your bundle of nerves, licking circles around it but never hitting it where you want. You pant above him, letting out little whimpers as he teases you.

His hand moves travels from your thigh to your stomach. His fingers splay out against your skin and pushes you back until your back hits the cold granite.

Your fingers tug hard when his lips latch around your clit, suckling against it as his tongue massages the bud.

“Oh fuck,” you moan, bringing a hand up to your mouth to muffle your noises.

His hand that isn’t pinning you down into the countertop makes its way down. You feel a finger prod at your entrance and you gasp.

His finger slips in easily to your soaked hole. You bite down on your hand, trying to keep yourself from being too loud. You lift your head up, looking down at where he’s connected to you and find him looking directly at you. Your walls clench around him at the sight.

He slips another finger in, slowly thrusting them into you. Those brown pupils are blown wide in desire as he watched you whine, trying to grind down on him. He scissors those thick fingers inside of you and you moan, squeezing them.

He groans against your clit, sending vibrations up through your body like the best vibrator money could buy. You feel that ball starting to tighten deep in your abdomen.

“C-close, Joel, so close,” you gasp, groaning when that hand stops you from grinding against his face.

“Gonna cum on my fingers?” He asks, mouth still attached to your swollen bundle of nerves.

“Yes, yes, please,” you moan.

His fingers curl inside you, hitting that sensitive, spongey spot. That quickly sends you over the edge, your walls clamp down, fluttering around his fingers. You bite your hand, a few moans still coming through.

He continues to massage that spot inside you and suck on your sensitive clit, far past the last aftershock of your orgasm. You let out whimpers about him, your hands that were pulling on his scalp now trying to push him away as he licks up the last of your arousal. You pull him up and away from your sensitive core.

He brings the back of his hand up to his mouth, wiping away the slick left behind. His eyes never leave yours for a second.

You sit back up, your hands flying back to the front of his jeans. You push them down, his thick length popping out. You bite your lip at the sight.

“Like what you see?”

You look back up at Joel, a smirk on his face. You didn’t want to play, you just felt hot need pulsing through your veins.

You look directly into his eyes as you wrap your hand around him, pumping slowly. His smirk wavers at your light touch. You sweep your thumb across the tip, collecting the bead of pre-cum.

His breath hitches as he watches you bring your thumb to your mouth, licking the droplet. He groans deep in his throat at the sight. You grin up at him.

“You’re driving me crazy,” he growls, wrapping his hand around the base of his cock and resting it against your puffy folds. The underside of him rubs against your sensitive clit.

“Please fuck me,” you pout up at him. His face goes back to your throat, kissing and suckling the soft flesh.

“You want my cock, baby?” He groans at the base of your throat.

“Yes, please give it to me,” you whine. He slides through your slick folds, lubricating himself with your arousal. His tip hitches against your clit and you moan into his ear, clutching at his shoulders.

“Please, Joel, please,” you beg desperately.

He pulls back and grins at your flushed face, “love hearing you beg for me, sweetheart.”

He hands massage your thighs, pushing them apart. You grab the base of his dick, guiding the fat head towards where you need it most. You’re both panting, watching as he notches himself against your entrance.

He slowly starts to ease himself in, stretching you inch by delicious inch. You can’t remember the last time, if ever, you were stretched like this. He was right, you were dealing with men now. And you loved it.

You bite your lip to stifle your moan as he bottoms out inside you. He stills, panting but never taking his eyes off where you’re connected. His lips swollen in a pant as he throbs inside of you. You place slow kisses along his chest, urging him to move.

He groans as he pulls back, then snaps his hips forward. You whimper at the feeling.

“Taking me like a fucking champ, baby.” He praises and you clench around him, whining pitifully. “Taking it like such a big girl.”

You whine as he uses your earlier words against you. His hand pushes you back onto the countertop as he lazily thrusts into you. His hand wrapping around your dress bunched up at your waist. His other hand wraps around your ankle, bringing it up and over his shoulder, then the other one.

The new angle causes him to push his tip into that sensitive spot inside you. You let out a louder moan at the feeling.

“F-fuck,” you gasp, clenching around him. You feel that ball inside you start to tighten again.

“I’m not gonna last much,” you stop to moan again, as he kisses your calf. “Not gonna last much longer.”

The hand wrapped around your dress pulls you forward, making him reach deeper into you.

“Gonna cum all over my cock?” He groans down at you, using your dress as a handle to pull you back onto him over and over again as his pace picks up.

You nod and whimper.

His free hand snakes down to rub your clit in tight little circles, making you squirm under him and moan.

“Come on, baby, cum all over daddy��s cock.” He groans, his thrusts becoming sloppy and you know that he’s holding back on his own impending release.

His hand comes up to cover your mouth, his other hands still rubbing furiously against your sensitive nub. Something deep inside you snaps and send you tumbling over the edge, your vision going white as you clench around him hard. His thick cock still pistoning deep inside you.

His hand does little to muffle your moans and instead he pushes his thumb into your mouth. Your tongue wraps around him and you suckle greedily on the digit.

He groans at the sight, his hips snapping harder against yours.

“Not gonna last much longer, darlin,” his voice hitches when you graze your teeth along his thumb. “Where d’you want it?”

You let his thumb slip out of your mouth with a ‘pop’ and bite your lip. “Want it inside me, daddy.” You say, giving him a fucked out look.

His hips stumble as he looks at your pouty, swollen lips and wide eyes. “Want me to fill you up?”

You nod, his thumb still resting on your bottom lip, “please.” You beg.

He leans down, capturing your lips in his as he gives a few more sloppy, fast strokes. Then groaning into your mouth as he stills deep inside you, spilling his release into you.

You gasp as you feel the warmth spread through you, reaching deeper and deeper inside you. You swallow his moans, letting him rut inside you lazily as he comes down from his high.

He raises back up, pulling out of you. You’re so sensitive that you let out a quiet whimper at the feeling. He grabs a rag warm rag and starts slowly cleaning you.

Silence hangs in the air around you. You’re suddenly aware of everything that just happened. You just fucked your best friend’s dad. Your best friend’s dad just fucked you. Your best friend’s dad just made you cum twice on their kitchen counter.

And they were the best orgasms you’ve ever had.

He doesn’t say anything, just shoves himself back into his pants and fixes his clothes. You pull your panties back into place and shove your dress back down as far as you can while still seated on the counter.

“I’m on the pill.” You say, finally breaking the silence.

“Oh,” he grunts. “That’s good.”

“So we don’t need to worry about that,” you trail off.

The sound of a door squeaking open down the hall causes you to jump off of the counter. Fully pulling your dress back into place, you practically jump away from each other, standing on opposite sides of the island he just defiled you on.

Sarah stumbles into the kitchen, swaying back and forth. Running into one wall and pushing off of it just to run into another one. She stops when she sees both of you.

“I’m not drunk,” she slurs, pointing a finger at Joel. She pulls the handle of the fridge open far harder than needed, grabbing a bottle of water, and slams it closed again.

She turns around on wobbly legs, then stops and glares at him again.

“You weren’t being mean to her were you?” She points a shaky finger towards you.

He smirks and darts his eyes over to yours, his eyes raking back down your body. “No, I was very nice to her.”

You shudder under his gaze.

“Good,” Sarah stumbles over to you, grabbing you in a too-tight hug and starts to drag you down the hall to her room. Her drunken, tear-filled voice travels back to the kitchen “Cause she’s my best friend and no one is allowed to be mean to her or I’LL FUCK THEM UP.”

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Note: this is literally the first thing I have ever written, if you’ve made it this far thank you so much!! (I’m usually not this freakay I promise)

#joel miller #joel miller tlou #joel miller smut #joel miller imagine #joel miller one shot #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #the last of us #tlou #the last of us fic #joel miller x you #bfd!joel #gnawing at the bars of my enclosure #shouldn’t be allowed to see the light of day #smut #hotdilfsummerchallenge

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toxicanonymity · 11 months

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leopard print.

4.5k, joel x f!reader; special guest in tags

SUMMARY: Depraved one shot based on this. Joel mistakes you for a sex worker, offers you a ride, Fs you, shares you and is mildly possessive about it.

WARNINGS: I8+ strangers, drugs, talk of sex work, unsafe public P in V, dubcon (drugs/alc, not noticeably intoxicated), cockwarming, degradation, pantygagging, creampies, car stuff, orgasm delay m, vaginal plugging, voyeurism, sharing. Unedited.

A/N: Night walks vibes, but different too. You'll see. New fantasy for myself 😫

"And if I was workin'?" You ask. He gives a low whistle. "Wouldn't know where to start," he murmurs. "But I can tell ya how it'd end." He looks at your skirt. . . "She'd be wrecked n' beggin' for more, baby." Your fingers absentmindedly graze your chest. . . He sticks the joint in his mouth and shamelessly adjusts himself with both hands, tucking it into his waistband.

You pull into the gas station on the back of your friend's motorcycle. "When I fuel up, I'm outta here," he warns you. Oh well. If you have to walk back to your friend's condo, it's only two blocks. He's grumpy – You and your girlfriends have been a hot mess at the pool all day playing floating beer pong and licking alcoholic whipped cream off each other. He didn't wanna take you with him in the first place. No helmet, no reasonable shoes, not even a shirt.

You swing your leg off the motorcycle and as you step down onto the ground with your red wedges, you adjust your cheap, stretchy leopard print miniskirt. It matches, or clashes, with your leopard print bikini. You leave your sunglasses on as you enter the gas station with a chime. You fish a damp $20 out of your bikini top and survey the snacks.

You feel someone lurking nearby, but ignore it until you hear a deep, smooth voice. "Nice rosettes."

"s’cuse me?"

You turn only slightly toward the man. Maybe homeless. Good looking like a washed up rockstar. He gestures toward your bikini top. "That's a nice set'a rosettes." You look down at your tits spilling out of your push-up bikini top, then you look back at his face. Handsome man, really. Salt and pepper beard. Full head of dark hair with a little gray. Sunkissed skin. His eyes are kind and glassy. His nose twitches. "Oh, that's what leopards call their spots. Rosettes."

You laugh uncomfortably.

“Yeah, the ones on your top, those are pretty good.” His eyes drift down your body. “Skirt doesn’t really have’em right. Still nice though.”

"Thanks." You politely nod and return to looking at the snacks, ignoring him in the corner of your eye.

He doesn’t leave. He only gets closer. He looks you up and down and steps into your personal space. He lowers his voice. "You, uh, workin'?"

No, you don't work there. Do you look like you work at the gas station? Your stomach turns as you realize what he means, and your face goes cold. You stare at him, and your eyes drift to a hole in his shirt right below the collar. "Am I WHAT?" You ask incredulously, but trying to be quiet. Your whole body feels hot at the implication. You're humiliated, but for some reason it makes you warm between the thighs, too.

His eyes go wide, and he puts his hands up in surrender. "Sorry," he mumbles, then adds, "A man can dream,” as he backs away.��

Your heart races and flutters and you scold yourself for being flattered. You end up in line behind the guy. And the line takes forever, giving you plenty of time to fume and also wonder about him. It's nothing against sex work – Work is work. But you'd like to think you wouldn't be picking up a rough looking guy in a gas station. Your friend's motorcycle revs outside. You look out the window and he's there by the curb waiting for you. You could drop the snacks on the closest rack and get the heck out. But for some reason, you stay in line, and not because you’re that hungry.

Someone needs to scoot behind you and you're forced to step into the sleazy man's personal space. He smells far better than you would have imagined. Woodsy and fresh. Somehow that makes all the difference, like he's not a filthy vagrant after all. He just had the aesthetic. Which is kinda hot. Your friend on the motorcycle shakes his head, revs his engine again, then drives away.

"Asshole," you mutter.

The man in front of you (your aspiring john) glances back and again mutters, "sorry." He scratches the back of his neck and exposes a chain under his ratty t-shirt. He really does have a nice head of hair, and now you see there’s a joint behind his ear, too. Maybe he’s just a hippy.

"Not you," you mumble. Well, not only him. Both of them.

He turns to face you. "I know. Saw ya roll in." Great, so he thought that was your pimp. "Want a ride?"

"Nah, I’m close," you mutter without looking right at him, then mumble, “thanks.”

He wets his lips and stares at your chest for a moment before adding, "ya sure?" And now that you know this man smells good, wears a chain, and has a ride, you're throbbing. You cross your arms and bite your lip looking at his handsome nose while his kind eyes search yours in anticipation.

"Okay," you whisper.

"Hell yeah," he whispers back with half a smile, getting a little closer, like the two of you are plotting something.

"But I'm not workin'," you remind him.

"Heard ya the first time, gorgeous." He winks at you.

He tries to buy your food for you. When you don't let him, he nods with a smirk. He crosses his big arms, plastic bag that reads “thank you” hanging from one of them, and waits for you. Then he holds the door open on your way out.

He checks you out as you pass through the door frame. You take your sunglasses off and put them in the bag with your snacks.

"Name's Joel." When you don't tell him yours, there’s a new smirk in his voice when he says, "don't gotta tell me your real name, if ya got a street name or somethin'. . ."

"Jerk." You punch his arm and mostly suppress a laugh.

He smiles and brings a massive hand to his bicep to pretend like it hurts, and for the first time it hits you how muscular he is.

"Truck's around back." He nods toward the back of the store. He walks slightly behind you. You feel his eyes boring a hole in your ass. Then you feel the warmth of his massive palm on the small of your back and he gets closer to you as he curves his hand around your side. "Too damn hot, baby. Had me thinkin' with my dick is all." Your face heats up and you glance at him. “I’ll carry that for ya.” He takes your bag.

He's parked around a corner out of view. Between some bushes and a closed library for some reason. His truck is nice, and it's big. Tinted windows. The back window of the cab says Miller Brothers. It's sunset, so you're grateful for the ride, lest any other low lifes make the same mistake on your walk back. When y'all get to his truck, he lets his hand slide down your hip. He opens the driver’s seat and puts the bags inside. Then he leans against his truck and adjusts himself. He's wearing pinstripe lounge pants. "Can't really blame me, can ya?" He raises his eyebrows. He scans you top to bottom again. "God damn, baby."

You laugh and look down shyly, unsure whether to thank him. His eyes don't leave your body at all. "To be fair, I thought you were homeless," you admit.

He exhales a laugh and shrugs. "Where ya headed?"

"Back to my friend’s pool."

"Hungry?"

"Nah."

"Smoke?" So that’s why you’re still outside the truck. You shouldn't, but you hesitate curiously.

You lean against the bed of his truck with your elbow resting on its edge, facing him.

"Fuck you're sexy," he mutters to himself. "Helluva rack but I'm an ass man, c'mere."

He turns toward you so he's leaning with his left side on the driver's side of the truck. He puts his right hand on your hip, rotating you so you're facing the truck. "Mmmmm." He puts his hand on the small of your back again, then slides it down–slowly, experimentally, cautiously enough for you to stop him. You don't. You're throbbing. He grabs your ass–his palm is huge. You glance at him and watch his eyes study the curve of your body. Deep down in your body, you know you're gonna fuck him. You both know it. With his left hand he retrieves the joint from behind his ear and puts it in his mouth unlit.

He sucks in a breath around the joint and lifts the flesh of your closest ass cheek. When he lets it drop, a growl escapes his chest.

He fishes a lighter out of his soft pants pocket and lights up. and as he inhales, once again he can't keep his eyes off your body. He takes the joint out of his mouth and turns your face toward his. You rotate toward him and he gets close, your bodies almost touching. He looks to your eyes for permission and begins to slowly exhale downward, so it's yours if you want it. You bring your mouth closer to his and he angles the smoke more toward your mouth as you suck it up. The moment seems to last forever and your lower belly is on fire.

The sunset washes everything in a pink hue. When his lungs are empty, he murmurs "good girl" and rests his hand on your hip, lightly running his palm over your stretchy little miniskirt, feeling the bump toward the top hem where your bikini tie is. He peels the top of your stretchy skirt down to expose the knot and pulls at the string. You let him untie it. The parking lot is empty and wet from an earlier rain.

"Fuck you're hot," he mutters with the strings of your bikini hanging over the miniskirt on that side. He takes another puff and passes you the joint. You take only a small inhale. "C'mere," he murmurs and his hand on your waist nudges your side off the truck and pulls you closer to him. He unties that side of your bottoms the same way.

"And if I was workin'?" You ask.

He gives a low whistle. "Wouldn't know where to start," he murmurs. "But I can tell ya how it'd end." He looks at your skirt.

You ask, "How's that?"

He doesn't take his eyes off your skirt. "She'd be wrecked n' beggin' for more, baby." Your fingers absentmindedly graze your chest, feeling where your tits spill over the cups. "Careful sugar," he chuckles. "Start me up, I won't ever stop." He sticks the joint in his mouth and shamelessly adjusts himself with both hands so his cock is upright and held in his waistband. He offers the joint again and you decline. He pinches it out and puts it back behind his ear. "Damn," he mutters, still checking you out. He rubs his hand over his cock through his soft pants. "But ya *ain’t* workin'. . . so ya got nothin' to worry 'bout," he adds with a twinkle in his eye. "''Less ya want it . . ." God, you do. You want it.

"Wrecked, huh?" You challenge him.

He sighs and his big hand on your hot skin rotates you back toward the truck. You hang your elbows over the side of the truck bed. He slinks behind you, then lets the heft of his cock against your ass crack. You gasp at how nice and hard it is. It moves against you and he sucks in a breath through his teeth then lets out a, "Mmm" as he exhales. He rolls his hips against you and uses both hands on your hips to pull your ass back into him so you're off the truck.

He holds you with one arm around your waist and his other hand slides between your legs from the front, up your skirt. "Bad girl, ain't ya?" His hand skims up your inner thigh to the crotch of your swimsuit, hanging loosely now that it's untied on both sides. "Yeah, ya are,” he answers for you. He slides two thick fingers through your folds and you sigh, tilting your head back. "Spread your legs for a stranger?." His voice is deep and gruff and makes you throb. “S’okay, not just any stranger.” His other hand grabs a tit while he runs his fingers through your dripping folds, then begins to circle your clit with his drenched digits. "Oh she's beggin' for it, baby," he murmurs.

He lets your weight against the truck again so his forearm is between you and the metal with his hand still between your legs. His cock presses against your ass at a slow rhythm, making your insides swell with need for him as he fingers your clit. You squirm and your hips rock into his hand. You whimper and he brings his mouth to your ear. "Five hundred," he whispers.

You gasp and he adds, "Not you. . .I'm workin' now, baby" as he speeds up on your clit. "I'm a penthouse boy, but that's your back alley discount."

"Fuck you," you laugh.

"First one's free if i cum inside," he murmurs into your neck. Then he grabs the crotch of your swimsuit and yanks it down, pulling it off entirely. He pins you to the truck with his cock against your ass. He shoves the swimsuit in your mouth and ties the strings behind your head. You taste the chlorine and your own arousal. You turn your head to look behind you and he reassures you no one can see.

His hand returns between your legs and he slips one, then two thick, wet fingers into you. Your cunt squelches obscenely around his digits. "Hell yeah, hear her beggin' for me?". He frees his cock from his pants and keeps fingering you. Then he slides his fingers out and your walls twitch at the loss. He wedges his cock under your skirt and it’s so big you have to spread your legs more. He runs the head through your folds and you’re gushing. As the head massages your clit, you moan into the swimsuit in your mouth. "Want the first one free, don't ya?" He taunts into your neck, dragging his lips along the delicate skin. "Want me to fill up this filthy hole?" You nod, desperate to feel him inside you. "First with this cock, then all the cum ya can hold," he murmurs and you nod. You tilt your hips and spread your legs. "Good," he breathes. "Good girl." He notches himself with the curve of his tip just inside. "Ready to swallow me whole, hot damn."

You push back on him and he says, "shit," and pushes into you. He slides right into you, spreading your cunt wide open with a groan into your neck. It's a delicious stretch and he fills you to the brim, bottoming out on the first go. "God damn, sugar." He retreats and slides his thick cock into you again, sheathing it entirely with your dripping cunt. You weren't even sure you could take this cock but it's perfect. "Fuck, you feel good," he pants and twitches inside you. If he comes early you're going to laugh but you pray he won't. He begins to roll his hips at a steady rhythm, and you moan into the swimsuit. He breathes heavily against your neck and bites and sucks you. You adjust your hips and push back on him to his rhythm.

"Take it like a pro," he pants, "an' you're tight, too. Damn." His right hand works your clit. His left hand comes to your throat, thumb on the left side of it, fingers on the right. Choke me, you think. Do it. But he doesn't. He licks and kisses at the left side of your throat, by his thumb. Then his fingers on the right of your neck tense for leverage and he plants his teeth on the left side of your neck. He sucks hard and moans into you as he sucks more, like he's thirsty for blood. Your neck aches under the grip of his mouth. He breathes through his nose, and when he finally breaks with a gasp, he fucks you harder, grunting and sighing.

You moan and he pulls your top down under your tits. A breeze and the rustling of branches nearby reminds you of the danger and you shiver. Your nipples harden under his forearm and palm and your cunt spasms. He groans behind your ear and you whimper and arch your back.

"Gonna come on this cock?"

You can only whimper again in response.

"Go 'head, baby," he breathes and reaches for your clit again, groping a breast with his other hand.

You bite down on the swimsuit and your body jerks into his as you come undone. "Oh yeah," he sighs. "Fuck yeah, ohhh baby." He thrusts into you harder and you moan as your cunt chokes his cock, and with another powerful thrust he bottoms out and begins to erupt with a long sigh, pulsing warmly inside you. Then he reaches for your face and pulls down the swimsuit gag. As you gasp for air, he turns your head toward him. He kisses you deeply with his cock still rutting deep and slow inside you, pulsing the last of his seed into your depths. He moans into your mouth. And when your lips disconnect, he looks at you softly. Your eyes lock for a few seconds, more intimately than you’d expect. Then you feel awkward, and look at the back of his truck–Miller Brothers. You say the first thing that comes to mind. "Joel Miller, huh?" You cringe at yourself.

He raises his eyebrows. "What, like the sound'a Miller?"

Your face goes hot and you make a joke to change the subject. "Your brother’a penthouse boy too?"

Joel's cock slides out of you and you feel empty. He starts to fix your swimsuit top and says, "Somethin' like that. . .I'll introduce ya," as he finishes straightening it. What are you, dating now?

You start to protest, "Oh, I dunno," then pivot to something more agreeable but noncommittal. “Sure, maybe sometime.”

—---

Joel walks you to the passenger side. What a gentleman. He opens the door for you. The seat isn't empty. There's a handsome man with longer, curly hair, a sexy smile, and his hands in his lap.

"Name’s Tommy," Joel says behind you. "My lil bro."

When Tommy lifts a hand to give you a little salute, you see his cock is out of his pj pants. "Howdy, sweetheart." He's not even shy about it. He raises his eyebrows and holds it at attention for you, thick and hard. Butterflies swarm in your stomach and you can't take your eyes off it. "Kept the seat warm for ya," Tommy beams.

"Go on, sugar," Joel nods to Tommy's lap. "’fore my cum leaks out everywhere."

Your heart races and your clit throbs. It feels like you're in a dream. This is so lewd and vile. But you just got pounded in a parking lot, and who's gonna know, and who cares. You wanna sit on that cock.

You look at Joel and he shrugs. "Don't gotta, but it's there." He leans in and gives you a kis, then murmurs "An’ she won't be leakin’ all over." He chuckles, then kisses you again. Damn, he’s a good kisser. When his head pulls back, you give him a devious, inquisitive look. and he says, "that's my girl." He helps you up and you scrunch up your skirt more. "She's hot as fuck, man," he tells his brother.

You're facing the windshield, and it's like Tommy’s just part of the seat. It's a large truck so there's enough clearance over your head. Tommy's large hands come to your thighs.

"I got her," Joel says and Tommy moves his right hand to hold his cock for you. You tilt your hips and Tommy notches himself at your hole, which is still pulsing with an occasional aftershock. Before too much of Joel's cum can trickle down Tommy's cock, they both pull you down on him and you're stuffed full once again.

"Good girl," Tommy whispers. Joel looks at you lustily and reaches his hand between your legs. He gives your clit a little rub, and you spasm on Tommy’s cock with an aftershock from Joel.

"Goddamn," Tommy mutters.

"Yeah," Joel whispers, then gives you another kiss. He shoots Tommy a serious look. "Don't fuckin' come inside her."

"I know, I know." Tommy hugs you back into his broad chest. "I’ain’t nothin' but a seat, honey. A seat and a plug." The crudeness makes you twitch.

Joel shuts the passenger door and goes back around to the driver's side. Tommy murmurs softly behind your ear. "Ya feel nice, though."

Joel buckles his seatbelt and starts the engine. Tommy rests his hands casually on your hips and his thick cock twitches inside you. He clears his throat.

"Tellin' ya, man," Joel warns.

"Nothin' to worry 'bout, brother," Tommy reassures him, playing it cool. "You used her up good."

Joel backs up the truck and asks, "Where to?"

You tell him the building. It's already in view in the distance as you approach the street to pull out from the parking lot. "There," you point to it. Joel opens his Takis and puts a few in his mouth. Your walls are hugging Tommy's cock as Joel eats his snack and drives. You bounce on Tommy's thick cock as Joel pulls onto the main street, immediately getting stuck at a red light. You moan, and Tommy stifles a grunt then whispers "shhhh," into your hair. It's not a long way. But you're stuck in traffic.

"What do you listen to?" Joel asks and turns on the radio. It's on the local classic rock station.

"That works," you mumble, laid back against Tommy's barrel chest with your eyes half closed. While Joel is focused on the road, Tommy wedges his hand under one of the push-up cups of your bikini.

Tommy sighs, then whispers into your right ear where Joel can’t see. "Sexy little thing ain't ya." His cock twitches. You close your eyes and take a deep breath, trying not to moan. He lightly pinches your nipple then fixes your suit again. God his cock feels good. You're almost to your friends condo, but you don't want it to be over.

"Can you, uh–can you take me to my place instead?" You ask

Joel looks at you and cocks an eyebrow. "Not back to the pool?" You shake your head sleepily. "Tuckered out, huh?” he chuckles. “That's okay baby. Where ya live?"

You tell him the apartment complex. It's a couple miles further. "Good girl," Tommy whispers, pleased to have you on his cock a little longer. As Joel drives, you feel Tommy subtly lifting his hips. The bumps in the road have you bouncing on him too. And with the slow traffic, wearing nothing but a bikini top and a miniskirt, you catch a few stares, even through the dark tinted windows. It turns you on more. It turns Joel on, too. He's hard again and rubbing himself over his pj's which are wrecked with drying drops of his cum, your juices, and a darker new spot of precum. Tommy’s cock is so thick, and it throbs, and occasionally twitches, and you can so freshly conjure the feeling of Joel pounding you too, whispering filth into your ear.

Your body’s building toward another climax, but you’re trying not to let it. Your cunt spasms, and Tommy's chest expands under your back with a deep inhale. "Shhh, it's okay," he murmurs. You’re almost there.

"Joel, i–" you reach over for him. He looks at your face and does a double take. "Shit," he peels into the closest corner. "It's okay, hold on for me sugar."

Tommy moans, trying so hard not to cum. "You better fuckin not,” Joel growls at Tommy. Joel takes off his seat belt as he parks and urgently takes his cock out. "C'mere baby," Joel reaches for you. Tommy groans and you feel a little pulse as he hoists you off his cock. Your cunt twitches, trying to hang onto Tommy, not wanting to let him go. Tommy erupts as his cock slides out of you and his cum paints your folds. He moans through it, cock in his hand, cum gurgling onto his fist, head tilted back, eyes closed.

Meanwhile Joel pulls you toward him and your cunt is beginning to flutter ever so slightly around nothing, but you’re staving off a full climax. You kneel on the empty seat between them and Joel urgently pulls you into straddling him. His cheeks are flushed and his face is serious. "yeah, I got ya baby." He wets his lips, then his mouth hangs open as his tip finds your hole and he pulls you down on his dick, even thicker than you remember. "Hell yeah," he whispers and you're packed full of cock again. "Uungghh yeah," Joel lifts his hips into you and you cum on his cock right away.

"Oh fuck," you gasp, "Joel–ugghgh," you moan unrestrained and tilt your head back. He catches it in his hand and brings your face to his. You clench around his cock and he fucks up into you slowly. Your lips break with moans from each of you as you cum on his cock and he moves you. He hugs you into him and latches onto the unmarked side of your neck. Then your clit is grinding into him as he keeps moving you on him while your climax wanes.

"So damn hot, baby. Really take it like a pro." His words make you spasm again, and Joel groans. He rocks you on his cock, biting his lip. You can tell from how quiet he is, he’s trying not to cum so fast. But he can’t help it and after a minute, he asks, "Ready for another load?" You nod, desperate to feel him pulse inside you. "Think ya can handle it?"

You nod and roll your hips into him. You could come again, too.

"Hell yeah, that's my bad girl–oh, fuck, fuck–ohhh.” He grunts from the back of his throat as his cock pulses enormously inside you, adding to his first load. As his moan wanes, his lips latch onto yours again. Your lips move together, and you begin to clench around his cock again, whimpering into his mouth with the pleasure. It seems to last forever. When your lips break, he reads your eye and mutters, "fuck, you're hot.”

He breathes heavily while his pulses continue but echo smaller and smaller, as with your aftershocks on him. He sits back against the seat for a moment catching his breath. "You're somethin' else," he whispers, then looks around outside. "What unit are you?"

You tell him your apartment number and point out the building. You stay impaled on his cock as he drives to that building. He nuzzles his nose and mouth into your neck. He parks the car, then spends another moment with you. He nibbles your neck, presses sweet kisses into your jaw, fixes your hair, then whispers, "Nice to meet ya, sugar."

Tommy gets out of the truck and walks around to the driver’s side, and opens Joel’s door. Joel kisses you goodbye, deeply, with tongue, and helps hoist you off his cock. Tommy helps you down out of the truck while Joel tucks his cock away. Tommy gives you a hug and kisses you on the cheek. Then they drive away and leave you wrecked and wanting more.

---------

thank you so much for reading and engaging! I really love and appreciate y'all.

For more Joel and Tommy, check out stuffing.

if you liked this joel... you'd like the night walks AU, If you like the sharing with a hint of dominance/possessiveness, I think walkintotheriveranddisappear has a gang bang where only Joel can cum inside. I have Tommy's hard day (established free use relationship with Joel)

toxicfics for notifications, @toxicrecs for fic recs.

EDIT - alright I've gotten several messages this week saying notifs aren't working. I think they might be delayed for some people but idk what to do. I guess I'm temporarily bringing this back but idk if it's even the most recent list 🤡 please subscribe to notifs on toxicfics if you haven't already. If you haven't been getting notifs, you can see the most recent fics you missed on toxicfics.

All Joel: @silkiers @eiviea @evyiione @queerly-anxious @chernayawidow @ambassadortotrilliusprime @fandomsfallnomore @djarinxore @blackvelveteen1339 @manazo @wolvesandvampires @taeslarityy @str84pedro @lokanda @kyloispunk @filthfairy @fieryglutenfreechickennoodles @harriedandharassed @moonlightdivine @worhols @fan-fiction-floozy @cutesyscreenname @weddingfairy @pedropascal-whore @spideysimpossiblegirl @feministfanboi @prettypartyfavor @babeincolor @switchbladedreamz

@within-the-depths @am-3-thyst @may-machin @pedromania91 @sloanexx @paleidiot @yourmistysecret @bean-is-reading @daddy-dins-girl

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller fanfiction #toxicanonymity ☠️#tommy miller x reader #tommy miller smut #cw dubcon #tw dubcon #cw dub con #tw dub con #night walks!joel

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innerfare · 18 days

Text

Random Shanks Headcanons

Summary: A random collection of Shanks headcanons

CW: None // SFW

———

Has a fake arm that he uses for gags. Only he and Yasopp find it funny. Beckman once tossed the arm overboard after Shanks ‘lost’ the arm in a pot of Lucky Roux’s stew, only for Shanks to enter the mess hall the next morning with another attached to his body.

Can do magic tricks, especially good with coins and cards. A very skilled sleight of hand artist. Also not above using these tricks to cheat while playing cards. (Inspired by the coin game w/ Luffy flashback). Cheating is the only way he can beat Beckman, who’s by far the best player on the crew. But he doesn’t even cheat to win, he just likes the thrill of getting away with it; also enjoys the thrill of getting caught. There was a rabbit loose aboard the Red Force for a solid month after the captain tried to learn how to pull it out of a hat.

The best beer pong player in the New World, probably the entire world. Would challenge all of his enemies to a game of beer pong to settle their disputes if he thought they would respect the results of the game. Good at drinking games in general (has a little too much experience).

Is an infamous gossip. If a member of the crew wants word to get out about something, they just mention it to their captain.

Enjoys playing matchmaker. Always acts as a wingman for his crew when there’s a pretty bar maid. The only one he never tried to fix up with one of his crew mates was his darling Makino.

Are soap operas a thing in the One Piece universe? Because if so, he has a favorite that he never misses an episode of (fights hardest on Thursdays so he can be home in time to catch the latest episode of Search for One Piece, a pirate drama based loosely on Roger’s life. He particularly enjoys the harlequin character).

Loves meddling in any drama that comes up aboard the ship. Sometimes even starts drama just for entertainment, like the time he told Lucky Roux that he saw Limejuice sneaking steaks from the freezer, or when he robbed Beckman blind and left traces of a turkey leg at the scene of the crime.

Thinks childish pranks are the funniest thing in the world. Pranks prospective crew members to see how they respond; screens them based on whether they find his jokes funny. Beckman insists this is not the best way to do things but Shanks persists. But Shanks isn't just being childish. He's making sure everyone who joins his crew has a good nature as that is, in his opinion, the most important thing. If you can't trust your crew, you're dead in the water.

Was definitely posing when the government snapped the photo for his wanted poster but pretends it was completely candid. Has a habit of comparing his wanted poster to the posters of his enemies.

He also uses his wanted poster to fish for compliments, especially from his crew. “That’s a pretty good picture, isn’t it?” “I don’t look half bad in that, do I?” “The real reason the marines are hunting me- the sight of my wanted poster makes their wives swoon.”

Refers to himself as, “that handsome devil.”

Smells like body odor and weed, but in a Matthew McConaughey kind of way (that is to say, it works for him).

Animals and babies always like him. He insists the trick is to act uninterested.

He is genuinely good-natured, but he definitely uses his sense of humor to disguise how terrifying he truly is. Is a pro at lulling people into a false sense of security. Definitely slouches on purpose to seem less intimidating.

Secretly paid off Luffy's "treasure tab" at Makino's bar. Didn't do it just to be kind to the poor kid but actually because he believed Luffy when he said he'd pay it back in full and did it to annoy Luffy a decade or two down the line. (When Luffy finally goes back to pay Makino and she informs him Shanks already did, Luffy blows a gasket.)

———

Hope you enjoyed it! If you want more, you can check out my masterlist here!

#one piece #shanks #red haired shanks #akagami no shanks #benn beckman #beckman #buggy the clown #buggy one piece #lime juice #lucky roux #yasopp #red hair pirates #red force #shanks headcanons #one piece headcanons

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velvetchrry · 4 months

Text

━━━━ THE COLLAPSE

pairing: captain john price x f!reader

2k. you move to the mountains of montana and meet your new neighbor. *tw: kidnapping

Your next door neighbor was admittedly a little weird.

You were pretty positive he was one of those doomsday prepper types that you heard of when you moved to the area — but you hadn’t seen hide nor hair of his 'bunker’ yet. You know some of them are pretty well hidden, and you’re a bit embarrassed to admit when he invited you over for a fish fry dinner after you first moved in, you totally went snooping around for it.

As strange as he might be, he seems like a nice guy. Genuine type of neighbor and you don’t want to piss him off, considering he’s your only neighbor. There’s nothing around the two of you for miles. That, and he’s actually been a pretty neighborly neighbor.

He always seems to know where you are but you figure it’s probably just because he’s clearly ex-military. When you catch yourself drinking coffee and staring at him from your porch as he fishes on the lake you share — he waves at you. When you’re trying to fix the fence on your small garden — he’s over right away with tools. When you’re struggling to carry your groceries inside — he’s around the corner, lifting over half of them out of your arms. Telling you that ‘you should really buy in bulk, love.’

And honestly, he’s right, you should. It’s been such a pain in the ass to get and haul groceries considering you moved to bum-fuck Montana — but oh is it ever beautiful. You get an absolutely breathtaking view every single day… but it takes away almost a full day from you in order to drive into the nearest town, load up, and then drive back home and unload them. By the time you’re done, you’re so tired you don’t have any energy to do anything else.

The power goes out one night. You’re not a child anymore, but it really is dark out here without any lights on. Eerie. You’re not from here. You don’t know what could be lurking out there, in the dead of night.

He comes by — of course he does. He’s got flashlights, candles, blankets and whiskey. Says the first two are to see with, the last two are to keep you warm. You let him inside just as the rain turns into a downpour.

You stay up most of the night together, talking. He tells you about his past in the military, you tell him about your writing, how you moved out here to focus and get out of the city. He pours you another drink and you have half a mind to refuse, but really you can’t let him leave yet. You’re a little scared to be by yourself out here tonight. He leaves when the power finally comes back on, only an hour before sunrise.

Loneliness seeps into your soul after a few months. You decide to invite some friends from college for a long weekend. You let him know of course. The plan is to do some hiking, but you’re sure you’ll end every night rowdy in your house. You tell him not to hesitate to show up if you’re all being too noisy.

He comes by that Friday morning, after everyone has arrived the evening before. Offers to be your hiking guide. You think, why not? You honestly aren’t much of an outdoor girly and can’t say you’ve ventured very far out here before. Might as well let the expert do it. He seems happy to — chatting it up easily with everyone, showing them little things in nature here and there.

When you get back to the house, everyone is so impressed by him they insist he comes by tonight for dinner. You almost can’t believe how easily he meshes into your group when he’s at least 12-15 years older than all of you. If you didn’t know better you would have swore he graduated with the rest of you.

He’s always on your team for any of the games you play and he's fucking good at all of them. Almost maddeningly so. You win flippy cup and pong easily. You team up in drunk Jenga and he makes you feel like he’s moonlights as an architect with how quickly you both become champions.

There’s no way he’d join you all skinny dipping in the lake — or so you’d thought. But as the rest of you tear your clothes off at the edge of the docks and jump in one by one, he’s there. Stripping down into nothing. Winking at you before he hightails it into a cannon ball. You hope what little moonlight there is doesn’t allow him to see the blush creeping up your cheeks. Doesn't allow him to track how your eyes move up his body — strong, sturdy, rugged.

One of the guys suggests playing chicken and he’s diving under and lifting you on his shoulders before you can fully register what’s happening. The soft, sensitive flesh of your pussy rubs against him with each movement and it takes every last ounce of your willpower not to grind against him like some sick fucking pervert. He’s your neighbor after all.

Winning was almost a guarantee with the two of you, even with you on top, because of how absolutely solid he is. Hands digging into your thighs, keeping you flush against him. It doesn’t matter who you’re up against because no one can push you off your perch on his shoulders. Your nipples perk, exposed to the chill of the night.

You’re fucking drenched and leaking onto him, you can tell. You just hope he’s distracted enough that he can’t feel your warm juices running down his back. You feel the prickles of his beard hair rub against your inner thigh and you have to bite down on your tongue to suppress a moan from escaping you. When he drops you back down into the lake after your undefeated streak and hits you with a whispered “that’s my good girl”, you almost try to hop back onto him then and there.

Fuck, you need to get laid.

Your friends leave once the weekend is up and it really hits you how well and truly alone you are here. Nothing can beat the beauty and serenity of Montana living — it wraps around your lungs like a creeping vine to take your breath away — but it makes you almost long for the hustle and bustle of the city you left behind. The trips to a girlfriend’s place for a glass (or bottle) of wine after a shitty day. Going out to bars and dancing the night away on a weekend. Hell, even just getting takeout when you don’t feel like cooking. All of it — the price to be paid for living here.

You can’t even begin to think about the detriment it is to your dating life. Sometimes — on the nights where you let your mind spiral — you imagine what it’ll be like living out here alone for the rest of your life.

Shockingly, you do meet a guy without even trying. Jake. Run into him. Literally in fact — you accidently trample over his foot at the grocery store with your cart. You feel so bad about it, when trying to make it up to him you find out he only lives a few miles away from you. He’s cute; outdoorsy type. Avid hiker, knows the area around your place. You invite him over for dinner tomorrow as an apology.

You go simple, not wanting to overdo it. Steak, cooked to a perfect medium rare, and baked potatoes. The two of you sit on your patio and chat until the stars come out and it’s too cold to sit any longer with soft breeze coming from the lake. Jake gets a fire roaring in your cozy little living room and you both curl up to it on the floor with a glass of wine.

He spends the night. You wonder — are you being too easy? Honestly… yeah, probably. But to be fair to yourself, you needed this… badly. You’re in quite literally the longest dry spell of your life. Living in the mountains hasn't helped that.

You jolt, waking up in a sweaty sheen that coats your skin. All night you’ve had the feeling that you’re being watched. It’s probably due to the fact that Jake, who is snoring lightly in your bed next to you, told you a few ghost stories about the mountain being haunted. That, and it’s easy to be paranoid living way out here.

Jake hangs around more and more. You go hiking, fishing, stargazing. Strangely, the more you see of Jake, the less you see of your neighbor. He’s not out on his boat on the lake anymore; you don’t see him grilling in his backyard or hiking the trails around your place’s. It’s… weird. He was such a solid fixture in your life when you first moved here.

It’s been over a month since you last saw him. The ghost of him lingers everywhere and it's starting to drive you crazy. When you’re tending your garden and you notice the part of the fence he helped to fix, you think of him. When you grill fish with Jake for dinner, your mind wanders back to him. Your mind plays tricks on you too — the back of your neck prickles and you think he’s going to be there when you turn around. But he’s not, he just… disappeared into thin air.

You decide you’re gonna go check on him today. It’s Saturday, and it’s a beautiful and sunny day. Typically a day you’d see him outside around the house. Jake’s coming over later tonight and you would like to introduce them to one another, especially after talking him up to Jake. Maybe he’ll come over for dinner?

When you get to his place and knock on the door, there’s no response. The door creaks open a bit from the force of your small hand. The house is dark and silent. You gingerly cross the threshold into his house, taking one tiny step into the foyer as you call out to him. It’s been a while since you last stepped foot in here.

You don’t want to intrude on him or his privacy but you’re honestly starting to get very worried at this point. What if he’s hurt? You push the door open a bit further and take another few steps in, again calling for him.

The house is just as neat as you remember from last time — nothing looks to be out of place. The dishwasher is running so that’s a good sign that he’s okay. You open your mouth to call out his name again when suddenly someone comes up to you from behind and presses a cloth to your face. You panic, limbs flailing wildly and inhale more of the slightly sweet, acetone-reminiscent scent. Your screams are muffled by the hand covering your mouth, and you scratch at it, feeling the hairy arm of whoever is behind you until the world becomes black.

When you come to, you feel a little foggy. You’re in… a basement? There are no windows, just industrial style lights. A bed resides in the center of the room — a bed that you are currently tied to — with each limb belonging to its own post.

Holy fuck… holy fucking fuck. Sheer terror spreads like poison through your body. This can’t be real. It can’t be. You’re too old to be kidnapped. You think you’re probably too old to sex trafficked… maybe? The rational part of your brain tells you to slow down and formulate a plan, but the other side of your brain — the one that’s currently reacting to the situation at hand — is kicking and screaming and gouging into your skin. The handcuffs on your wrists and ankles dig deep, biting hard into your skin.

You scream when you notice a shadowy figure hulking just out of eyesight. It moves slowly, so slowly. You throw yourself as far as you can to the other side of the bed, trying to get away from it.

When the figure steps into the light, your blood turns to ice. Sweat glides down your back in swift rivulets even as a chill seeps into your bones.

“…John?”

“Yes, love?”

#call of duty #cod x reader #john price x reader #john price x you #john price x y/n #john price imagine #captain john price x reader #captain john price x you #captain john price x female reader #captain price x reader #captain price x you #captain price x female reader #captain price x y/n

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theemporium · 1 month

Note

Slay 🙇‍♀️ my original request was for a “The fastest way to shut me up is to kiss me” dirty flirtini with jack 🩷🍸

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

23. “The fastest way to shut me up is to kiss me.”

“You don’t actually prefer Trevor as your beer pong partner, do you?”

Your brows furrowed together as your brain fought through the sleepiness to process the fact Jack had spoken to you. You were half asleep, cheek pressed against the cool pillow beneath you after a long day out in the sun tiring you out. You were seconds away from falling asleep, hardly aware of the fact your boyfriend was wide awake and restless beside you.

“Hm?” You hummed, your eyes still closed and your body barely fighting the urge to stay awake.

“Like, I would always be your number one choice, right?” Jack continued, rolling over so he was now facing you.

You let out a sigh. “What are you talking about, Jack?”

“And, like, if you had to choose someone to be stuck on an island with, it wouldn’t actually be Cole over me, right?” He asked, nibbling on his lower lip as he waited for your answer. “Because I think I could easily light a fire from scratch better than he could. And I reckon I could fish with a spear if I tried.”

You blinked your eyes open. “Baby, you’re using way too many words for me to understand right now.”

There was a pause before Jack leaned over, flicking the lamp on and watching your face screw up at the sudden intrusion of light. You whined, shoving your face back into the pillow but Jack remained unfazed.

“I just wanna know if you’d pick me,” Jack told you, shrugging his shoulders a little.

“Is this about the ‘would you rather’ game?” You asked, the pieces slowly starting to click together as the memory of the group around the firepit a few hours ago flashed in your mind. “Babe, you weren’t even an option in any of those questions.”

“I know that,” Jack sassed before sighing. “But I would always be your number one, right?”

“Of course,” your eyes softened a little. “It was just a game, Jack.”

Jack nodded. “And if you had to be stuck in a horror movie with someone—”

“Oh no, then it’s definitely Quinn,” you said with a straight face, nodding your head. “At least he wouldn’t keep me awake by asking pointless questions.”

Jack rolled his eyes but there was a smile on his face. “You know,” he started. “The fastest way to shut me up is to kiss me.”

“My needy, needy boy,” you murmured with something fond in your voice before you reached for him, hand on the back of his neck to pull him down so you could press your lips against his.

“Hm, yeah, like that,” Jack smiled against your lips.

You huffed out a laugh, falling back against your pillow. “Can we please go to sleep now?”

The boy didn’t even argue, settling down with his body sprawled over yours with his head resting on your chest.

#cece's cocktail celebration #jack hughes #nhl #new jersey devils #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes x you #jack hughes x y/n #jack hughes fic #jack hughes one shot #nhl x reader #nhl x you #nhl x y/n #nhl fic #nhl one shot

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chaotic-mystery · 3 months

Text

Pairing: Ex boyfriend!Frankie Morales x f!reader

Summary: Frankie doesn't know how to be an ex boyfriend and he doesn't know how to not take things too far.

Content Warnings: Smut, 18+ only MDNI. This is pre triple frontier and tom doesn't exist LOL, mentions of alcohol, a little drinking, reader can swim, toxic ex bf! Frankie, he knows zero boundaries, swearing, mentions of blood, (1) injury to your forehead thanks to catfish himself, patching up your injury, Frankie can lift reader onto the countertop, hate sex, fingering, dirty talk, p in v sex, Frankie smooshes your face against the mirror but gently, a little manhandling, nipple play, you become a toaster strudel at the end, (1) ass smack.

Authors Note: I guess this is my intro to Frankie, nailed it. I could not stop talking about this fucking idea to the hens and I'm so glad I breathed life into it. This was inspired by the song No More Friends by Olivia O'Brien. Granted.....the smut was a last minute idea but who doesn't love smut? Thank you @pedgito for the beta read, I love you <3 || wc: 3.4k || divider by me @cyberangel-graphics ||

Even though you weren’t with Frankie anymore and hadn’t been for a few months, Benny still invited you to his pool party to celebrate his big win in the ring from the other night. The breakup was messy but the guys were amicable about it and didn’t choose sides like Frankie wanted them to. He seemed to forget you were friends with all of them before you dated him.

You weren’t nervous to see Frankie anymore at these types of things, you were so over him and the bullshit he pulled. Or, at least that’s how you wanted to come across. Not a soul would ever know you were still hurt by him so you had no choice but to fake it till you make it. Through lots of self reflection and lots of nights out with your friends, you realized you didn’t need him, at all. Not even as a friend like he suggested. You had enough friends. You just wanted him and who he used to be when you first got together.

“Do you think he’ll be there?” Your friend in the driver's seat looks in your direction for a second and you respond with a small chuckle before diving into your purse to fish out your phone.

“Oh, absolutely. I got a text earlier before we left-” you start to read aloud the contents.

“Are you going to Benny’s thing tonight? I can come swing by and pick you up if you need a ride.”

The entire car responds with either a scoff or sound of disgust.

“Yeah, no thank you.”

The tires crunch over the gravel leading to the house and you don’t see Frankie’s car yet. Maybe he changed his mind and decided it would be better not to come. He always flaked on people, especially you. Date nights were good in theory but they would never become real. One two many times he left you sitting alone at the restaurant because he “lost track of time” with the guys.

Once everyone makes it to the backyard, the music thumps louder and louder in your chest and you don’t even see Benny through the crowd of people at first. Playing beer pong over by the shed to the left of the in ground pool, William and Benny shout like cavemen when the white ball sinks into the cup of flat beer for the other team.

“That’s what I’m talkin’ about, ladies and gentlemen!” You hear from behind you and instantly your body tenses up.

Frankie.

“Oh shit, sorry. Didn’t see you there. How are you? Do you need a drink?”

“No, thanks.” Short and cold was the best way to go about this and maybe he’d get the hint to leave you alone.

“Well damn, lady. Why so cold?” His tone sets your body ablaze and if looks could kill.

“Frankie, what part of leave me the fuck alone did you not understand? You don’t need to pretend like you really give a fuck about me. We can exist without speaking to one another.”

His face drops and before he can answer, you turn on your heels and disappear into the crowd to go finish saying hi to the rest of the guys.

Not too many people were in the pool but that didn’t stop you from getting in once you greeted all of your friends and left your belongings in Benny’s room where you knew they’d be safe.

“Cmon, don’t be a baby! Get in!” You shouted at Santi who was sitting in a pool chair with a beer bottle in his hand.

“Maybe later, I’m relaxing right now.” A soft smile grows on his face and you roll your eyes before dipping underwater, the cool temperature relaxing your body.

Everytime you’d turn to the wall to get your cup and take a drink, Frankie was lingering in peripheral vision ogling how good you looked in your bathing suit and waiting to interject to say something, anything to get you to be kind. That ship had sailed no matter how much it hurt.

The night went on and the overcrowded lawn slowly died down to a respectable size group and Benny convinced the guys to play marco polo with you. You could see Frankie sulking in the plastic pool chair by the deep end, cuddling with his plastic red cup filled with whatever he was drinking.

“Who still plays marco polo? Are you guys in fuckin’ junior high?”

“Who wears a button down to a fuckin’ pool party?” you shout from the middle of the pool in a mocking tone with your eyes squeezed shut, trying to find William who was plastered against the wall.

Stifled laughter echoes around you and immediately you pick out Santi’s voice, swimming over to one spot until it gets louder and louder and splashing crashes around you. Not a word out of the crybaby sitting outside of the pool until you open your eyes and notice him kneeling down by Benny, whispering something in his ear before darting away into the house. A few more rounds of the game go by before Frankie comes out in a pair of swimming trunks he clearly borrowed.

There’s no fucking way. There’s no way he really asked to borrow some trunks because of what you said to him. Was he really that bothered by it? Good, he should be. Water begins to flood around Frankie’s ankles as he walks down the concrete steps until he’s able to swim around, floating on his back to get his hair wet. Everything will be fine as long as he doesn’t touch you, or keep staring at you.

Everyone was taking turns and even when Frankie was in the middle with his eyes closed, you’d occasionally yell out for him to find you. It was feeling somewhat normal again and it wasn’t easy pretending like you didn’t miss it, like you didn’t miss him. You were cracking and it was getting harder and harder to pretend you were fine.

“Get your ass in the middle, c’mon!” William shouts at you and splashes the cool water on your face.

“Don’t cheat this time, will you?” Benny laughs.

“I do not fucking cheat!”

Before closing your eyes, you turn and look at Frankie, that disgusting feeling of butterflies in your stomach coming back to life. No, no this can’t happen. This isn’t happening. Stop, you fucking idiot. The voice in your head was loud and screaming at you to close your fucking eyes, unfortunately the last thing you seen was Frankie.

Everyone starts to swim around all over to throw you off before you call out to see where they were hiding. Just like a snap of your fingers everyone in the pool went silent and you waited to hear a movement or voice, laughter being swallowed.

“Polo!” Frankie hollers and you stick out your hand to find him, water spilling from between your fingers as you raise it from below the surface. You yell out once more and he answers again in a softer tone this time. Everything around you muffled out, it felt like it was just you two. For a second you blink your eyes open before you touch his arm, getting a flash of this look on his face you hadn’t seen in a long time, even before the breakup.

Santi comes up behind you and picks you up, dunking you into the water. It was a good way to clear your mind about Frankie, that’s for fucking sure. Swimming to the top and gasping a few times for air before opening your eyes, you look over at Santi who was laughing away with his arms treading water.

“We told you not to cheat and you cheated!”

Water droplets cascade down your forehead and Benny swims over to your left side, hooking his arm over your shoulders. Benny had always been a touchy person but you never thought anything of it, he was a really good friend to you. Nothing more. Clearly Frankie didn’t think that way considering how fast he scooped you up from behind and launched you forward. He didn’t have a really good grip on you though and fumbled you underwater, causing you to scrape your forehead on the floor. The chlorine stings the broken skin and you flinch instantly, swimming back up until fresh air fills your lungs.

“Frankie what the fuck!” You shout and brush your hair out of the way, blood getting watered down and running down your forehead swiftly. The guys rush over hastily, all of them asking if you were okay but it all mushes together and your anxiety kicks in telling you to go to the bathroom and take care of it, don’t cause a scene. Swimming over to the stairs you could feel tears pricking the corners of your eyes and welling up, your forehead feeling like there was a small heartbeat where the scrape was. Your friends notice you walking fast into the house and want to follow but you tell them you’re fine, you just need a moment alone.

Once you make it upstairs to your purse, you pull out your compact mirror and look at the injury, the blood not stopping anytime soon.

Fucking Frankie.

Ben’s bathroom was full of everything you need to fix yourself up. Dabbing an alcohol wipe over it to clean it as best as possible, you wince annoyingly at the pain. This shouldn’t be happening. Why did he do that? Why did he think throwing you around like everyone else was, would be a good idea? You weren’t friends. Taking the plastic wrapper off the back of the butterfly bandage, you press it firmly against your skin, looking at how stupid you feel with a white line plastered to the perimeter of your face.

Thudding footsteps come running up the stairs and bust into Benny’s room and into the bathroom where you were sitting on the sink.

“Are you okay? I didn’t mean to um– I'm sorry.”

“Can you leave me alone? Jesus Christ! You don’t listen, do you! You just don’t quit!” Finally, you were at your breaking point. There was no more being nice, no more dancing on the line of being kind for the sake of his feelings.

“Why are you being like this, huh? What did I do to you?”

“Hello, do you remember you just cut my forehead open not even five damn minutes ago or?”

“Even before that, you were being mean as soon as you got here! Why?”

Throwing the box of bandages in the drawer and slamming it shut, you hop off the counter and stand chest to chest with Frankie.

“Why did you break my fucking heart, Frankie?” Tears spilled out from your eyes and you didn’t care anymore. You cracked. It was hard keeping up this front like it didn’t bother you.

“I don’t have an answer for you, I’m…I’m sorry.” His tone was hushed and his thumb grazed over your bandage, the soft and tenderness you’d been searching for months to get just a piece. Of course he would finally give it to you after you had already broken up. Classic Frankie.

Snapping out of the emotional tornado you were spinning in, you shove him off you and suck your tears back, wiping your face dry. “I can’t move on when you’ve got me in this headspace, Frankie. I hate you, I fucking hate you. I hate you.” Your fists rattle against his chest as if you were trying to break through but you weren’t getting anywhere. Maybe it was the anger or the hurt, but something was tearing you down brick by brick and exposing you to him. Frankie’s warm hands wrap around your wrists and calm you until you’re no longer moving and wrapped in his arms, tucked away against his chest. He looks down at you after a few silent moments with him, like old times your lips connected to his. As if no time had slipped away from you two Frankie engulfs you, his arms wrapping tighter around you like you’d fade away at any given moment.

“Frankie–” you interject but his lips work faster against yours until you’re pushed up against the counter.

“Say it again, tell me you hate me, baby.” A squeeze to your hip makes you squirm and subconsciously hike your leg up on him until his hand catches onto the back of your thigh, pressing himself deeper between your legs.

“I hate you so goddamn much. You are the worst thing to ever happen to me.”

It was true, he was the worst thing to ever happen to you. Heartbreak never accompanied you in such a way like this until Frankie. His hands push you right back on top of the sink and ever so gently he rests the back of your head against the mirror while his fingers dance along the side of your thigh.

“If you hate me so much, why haven’t you left yet?”

He got you there. You were sitting comfortably with Frankie’s hips between your knees, your bathing suit exposing more of your breasts from the way you were positioned in front of him but you didn’t care enough to move.

“Do you want me to stop?” He kisses your cheek and trails down your neck softly as he awaits your answer. Your brain was a scrambled egg at this point, one half telling you this was going to be a bad idea and you’d regret it, the other telling you to give in, that you need him.

“N-no, don’t stop. Don’t stop.” You whisper before kissing him once more, fingers tangling in his wet curls. Your tongue glides against his bottom lip to gain access into his mouth and he approves, parting his mouth a bit more for you to slip in and find his own tongue. Frankie groans slightly and pushes against you more, his hardening bulge pressing against the apex of your thighs.

“Where do you need me, huh? Show me.”

Frankie pulls away from your lips to look directly into your eyes as he places his palm on your abdomen, waiting to be guided like he didn’t know where you ached for him. Clutching onto his wrist, you push him further down your body until his fingers meet the wet material covering your needy pussy, throbbing to feel his fingers one more time.

“Right here, baby? Still needy as ever, you’ll probably come in minutes if I do that thing you like.” The evil grin plastered on his face sent your heart skipping beats. Damn him. His pushed back hair had begun to dry, the ends starting to curl up the more you scrunched them with every kiss.

Frankie’s fingertips graze over the top of your clothed clit and he grins happily at the sight of you losing every thought in your mind. The pleasure rang far too loud over your negative thoughts for you to be upset with what you were doing in the moment. It felt too good to stop, to get off the counter and tell him to go to hell, to get in your friend's car and drive away back home where you knew you’d stay up all night and think about him.

“Cmon, hurry up before they notice how long we’re gone. Can you imagine what they’d say if they knew what we were doing up here?” You whine and maneuver out of your bathing suit bottoms, flinging them onto the tan tiled floor. The plop of wet clothing makes Frankie’s head tilt up to look at you and he’s completely captivated by your pushiness.

“I can’t tell if you missed me or just missed getting fucked the way I fuck you.” His cockyness would eventually lead him to get humbled, but today wasn’t that day, especially not now.

“Frankie just shut up and fuck me, please. Stop talking.” Your finger pushes against his lips before you kiss him roughly, legs spread to either side of him as he holds your waist to guide himself inside you. The both of you gasp at how he struggles to get inside fully before he pumps in and out slowly.

“Jesus christ you’re so fuckin’ tight baby. Don’t even think I’m all the way in yet and I can feel you squeezing around me.”

You moan out and claw at his back, digging your nails into his skin to keep him steady as he begins to thrust his hips, pushing his cock further into you until it felt like he’d break you in two. Scratching all down his back, you look at him through your eyelashes and grin.

“I hate you. I hate the way you feel so good inside me, I hate the way you make it so easy to fall back into this shit with you.”

“Keep goin’ I love this shit.”

Frankie moans your name and stands straight, putting his hand on the side of your head and pressing your cheek into the mirror behind you, keeping you absolutely still and right where he wants you.

“You-ughhh fuckk-you are the worst, Frankie-e!”

The desperate moans of insults mean nothing to him, it makes him laugh and keep thrusting harder and harder.

“Yeah? If I’m the worst than why are you letting me fuck you right now, eh? Doesn’t that make you just as bad for using me?”

“N-no I–”

His fingers rush into your mouth causing you to suck messily on them, whimpering and trying to buck your hips against him but it wasn’t working. Frankie leans down with a hand still pinning you to the mirror and with his freehand, he tears your bathing suit top to the side to free those hardened nipples that had been taunting him all night. His warm mouth encloses over the nub and sucks slowly, flicking his tongue over them before nibbling softly. With every flick of his tongue, you could feel it in your clit. He had you absolutely fucked.

“Yes yes yes, just like that. Why didn’t you tell me you’d shut up if I just put a titty in your mouth?” He was too busy to notice the playful remark but you knew it would make him laugh had he heard.

The burning embers in your belly start to ramp up and your pussy continues to clench around Frankie as he slips in and out of you, your skin smacking against one another and his hand squeezing you tighter against the mirror.

“Frankie-oh fuck-I’m gonna come, don’t stop” you mule out. His hand releases your head and you look directly at his cock disappearing inside you and making your vision blurrier by the second. Your eyes begin to roll back as your muscles tighten and let loose like a rubber band breaking in two. Your moans were echoing off the walls of the bathroom and right out the windows. Frankie didn’t mind but he covers your mouth forcefully as you come, knowing it adds to the sensation for you like it always did.

“Such a good girl for me, stay right there, baby.”

You lean back and catch your breath as your legs continue to tremble against Frankie, who was close as you could feel his cock twitch inside you. More echoes of your whimpers and Frankie’s moans coat the walls as he pulls out roughly, shooting his hot load over your stomach, the pearls of cum dripping down your sides as his head snaps back, body jolting with every pump of cum he lets out.

The post nut clarity starts to set in for you and you realize quickly just what you were doing and who you were doing it with.

“Frankie this can’t happen again, I mean it.” You push against his stomach lightly and hop off the counter, stepping towards the small linen closet to grab a washcloth. Running it under warm water while Frankie collects himself and pulls his trunks back up, you clean your torso off gently until there's no trace of him left. Once he’s done adjusting himself, he grabs your bottoms off the floor and kneels down, helping you step in them and bringing them up your legs until they’re right where they should be. With a little snap of the waistband, he lets go and adjusts your top.

“Yeah yeah, whatever. Come by later when you get dropped off at home, okay?” He smacks your ass and kisses the back of your head as he walks away to go back downstairs.

“Fuck you, Frankie!” You shout before he closes the bedroom door, leaving you with nothing but regret and guilt.

#frankie morales x you #frankie smut #frankie x reader #frankie morales x reader #francisco morales smut #francisco morales #pedro pascal #triple froniter #pedro pascal characters #frankie friday #tw blood #my writing

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wheels-of-despair · 9 days

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Gonna Need A Bigger Bathtub Pairing: Eddie Munson x You Summary: Evil Woman, Eddie, and the rest of the Hellfire nerds have been sentenced to helping out at the school carnival. There will be casualties. (EW kinda hijacked this fic, but it's still a wild night for all!) Contains: Everyone's own personal hell, violations of child labor laws, carnival games, heroic rescues, new pets, a happy ending... for most. Words: 2.8k

"This is such bullshit," Eddie growls, slamming the front door of his van.

"It's one day," you remind him as you slide out of the passenger's seat. "Half a day, really. It's the price of a diploma."

You meet at the back doors, where the rest of Hellfire is piling out into the sweltering parking lot of Hawkins High. On a damn Saturday.

"Eddie?" He turns to you, misery on his face. It's still decorated with traces of fading yellow bruises from the rumble with the jocks. So is everyone else's. "I tell you this with all the love in my heart, but: Suck it up, buttercup."

"Easy for you to say," he sighs, stripping himself of his battle vest and emptying his pockets into an old coffee can. "You're not in the dunking booth."

He slams the back door, locks it, and looks at his keys with hesitation. "I'll hold 'em," you offer. You pocket Eddie's keys, and he throws an arm across your shoulders as you walk toward the field behind the high school where the carnival is being held. The rest of the boys reluctantly follow along behind you.

Your official assignments were distributed last night, after you helped set this shit-show up. Now you're here, at the damn Hawkins High Carnival Fun-Raiser, ready to raise money (and fun!) for the stupid school you're leaving behind in just a few weeks. Eddie's graduating, you remind yourself. This is a small price to pay for that diploma he's been working so hard for.

"Where have you been?" Miss Click screeches when she spots you, waving her clipboard in frustration. "It's almost time to open! Go get set up! Now!"

You answer with mumbles and half-assed salutes as you pass. Today is going to majorly suck.

"This is me," you sigh mournfully, stopping at your assigned booth. The rest of the boys keep trudging toward their own personal hells, but Eddie stays with you to say goodbye. "Close your eyes, hold your nose, think of Ozzy."

"Who told you the secret to giving great ora—" You cut him off with a shove in the direction of the dunking booth, and he turns around and walks backward to grin at you. And then he stumbles, catching himself just in time to avoid a fall. You cover your mouth to hide a laugh, and he flips you the bird before he turns around.

You have been awarded the honor of running the fish bowl game. It's a table full of fish bowls that people try to throw ping pong balls into. If they win, they get a live fish in a plastic bag. You're hoping for a quiet night, banking on the fact that most people probably don't come to the carnival for a new pet.

You're in a good location; you can see most of the boys from your booth. Jeff is in charge of the balloon game across the way, where people throw darts at balloons and pop them for prizes. Grant's manning the Lucky Duck Pond nearby, where toddlers will pick up a duck and feel like a little winner every time. Gareth is glowering at his popcorn cart a little to your left. And when you stand in the corner and lean out a little, you can see Eddie eyeing the dunking booth warily.

Assorted jocks are set up with easy-to-assemble sports games. Uniformed cheerleaders sell raffle tickets. You have Patrick McKinney with some kind of basketball game to your right, and Chrissy Cunningham in the Kissing Booth to your left. That seems sanitary.

"How are we doing over here?" Overlord Click asks.

"Ready and waiting," you deadpan.

"Why haven't you put the fish in yet?"

"What?" you ask.

"You're supposed put the fish in the fishbowls, silly."

You look from the massive bucket of goldfish in plastic bags to the fishbowls.

"You want people to throw balls at the fish?"

"Why do you think it's called the fish bowl game?" she asks.

"Because you toss a ball into a bowl and win a fish?"

"Put the fish in the bowls," she orders.

"And if I don't?"

"Then perhaps Principal Higgins will have second thoughts about letting you and your little friends off so easy," she says through pursed lips. "Now put the fish in the bowls, or I will put someone who can follow simple instructions in charge of this booth."

You'd like to put her in a fish bowl and let kids throw balls at her. Maybe let someone dunk their balls in her bowl, too. But the thought of Hellfire having suffered a week of detention for nothing gets to you. You reach for a fish bag, untie it, and carefully dump the poor little guy into a bowl.

"Every two or three bowls will do," she says. "We don't want to run out of prizes."

She walks away, and you want to chuck a fucking fish bowl at her.

You stare at the bucket of bagged fish and settle for staggering three of them across the front row of bowls so they're visible to people walking by. You apologize to the little guys as you pour them in.

You're surprised by how many people are willing to haul a goldfish around the carnival all day. But they get their dumb balls in and take their bagged fish and carry on. You take money and distribute fish until dusk, when your relief shows up to grant you fifteen minutes to eat and use the bathroom. How generous.

Since you have no appetite, you decide to check on the boys.

"Hey," you grin at Grant, yawning with boredom by his little duck pond. "Gettin' lucky yet?"

"Kill me," he mouths as a new herd of toddlers approaches. You back away from them with a horrified expression, and he laughs as he takes their mom's money.

"How's it going?" you ask Jeff, leaning against the plywood outside of his balloon-filled booth.

"Oh, just great," he rolls his eyes. "Love watching these degenerates throw darts in my direction. If I get hit, I will sue."

"As you should," you affirm.

"I'd rather be here than in the dunking booth, though," he says. "Poor Eddie, man."

You turn and look in Eddie's direction. He looks like a drowned rat.

Because the person trading money for balls is Jason Carver.

"Oh, no," you groan. "See ya," you say quickly. Jeff waves, then presses himself against the plywood wall as another wave of darts are launched toward the balloons.

There's a long line of jocks waiting for a shot to dunk the freak. It looks like he's barely catching his breath between drops, and exerting all his energy into crawling back on the stool.

"Look here, boys," Jason Carver says loudly when he spots you. "Does the little freak girl wanna play?"

"Maybe she does," you respond. "But her break's almost over, so she won't have time unless these gentlemen want to let a lady cut in line."

Jason gives his flunkies a look, and they part for you like a sea of dickheads. Eddie's breathing heavily on his little stool above the tank and still trying to brush his wet hair out of his face from the last dunk.

"Three tries for $3, miss," Jason says sweetly. Eddie's spotted you, and is shaking his head, but you hand over your cash. Jason gives you three balls.

You throw them quickly, before the pricks can figure out what you're doing. You launch them high and far, way over the target and into the woods. You almost wish the gym teacher could've seen it.

"You bitch," Jason seethes.

"And yet, you're the one who has to fetch," you smile, walking around him to the tank. You reach in and hand Eddie a hair tie. "It's almost over," you remind him. Eddie's in the process of tying his hair back when he's sent into the water again. You both yelp in surprise; Eddie at being dropped again without warning, and you from getting drenched by the splash. You turn to see Carver leaning against the target with a smirk on his face. He set it off manually.

"Thanks for that," you smile sarcastically. "It's really hot out here. I don't envy the person who has to suck Higgins' sweaty balls tonight. Maybe you should suggest he take a dip in the tank before the carnival closes."

You leave before he can work out what you've said, checking your watch to see that you need to get back to your fishy booth.

More fish have been put into open containers. Damn you, temp!

Business carries on as usual, until you notice that two elementary-aged kids are standing off to the side and watching you.

"Can I help you?" you finally ask, sick of being stared at like… a goldfish in a bowl.

"My fish died," Brace-Face pouts. His pal Glasses looks on nervously.

"What'd you do to it?"

"I didn't do anything to it!" he argues with a stamp of his little foot. "You gave me a bad one!"

"No refunds or exchanges." Is this an official policy? Probably not. Are you going to indulge this brat? Definitely not.

"Told you you shouldn't have taken it in the bounce house," Glasses mutters. Your eyes narrow.

"You took a live fish into the bounce house?" you ask.

Brace-Face freezes.

"Give it," you command, holding out your hand for the dead fish. He drops the bag into your hand. The poor little fishy is indeed dead; floating upside down in a plastic prison filled with too-warm water. You turn your gaze from the fish to the kids. "Scram."

They do.

"What was that about?" Miss Click asks, appearing out of nowhere.

"His fish died and he didn't want it anymore," you shrug.

"Did you give him a new one?"

"No."

"Good," she sighs. "We can return the live ones and get a refund when the carnival is over."

"The live ones?" you ask.

"There are bound to be casualties," she shrugs. "Anyway, I'm here for a cash pickup."

You take a fistful of bills out of your apron and hand them to her, concocting a plan as she counts the money and writes on her clipboard.

When she leaves, you dart over to Gareth.

"Give me some popcorn bags."

"Why?"

You huff in annoyance. He puts on his customer service voice.

"Small, medium, or large, ma'am?"

"Large."

He hands you a stack.

"Come see me when you get a break," you instruct, tucking them under your arm and returning to your booth.

Fun fact: You can fit four fish bags into one large popcorn bag.

The first batch of refugees (and Eddie's keys) are smuggled away by Jeff after a whispered explanation. He walks away with a grin and a popcorn bag held to his chest, looking like everyone else walking around the carnival with a snack.

Grant and Gareth's breaks come next, and eight more fish are rescued. They seem pleased to be sticking it to The Man and saving lives. Eddie is the last person to get a break, only an hour before the carnival is scheduled to close. This event is violating so many labor laws.

"This is the worst day of my life," he groans, stepping over the side of your booth and collapsing in the grass beside you. He's still dripping from his last dunk.

"Then I really hate to ask, but…" you bite your lip. "I need a favor."

Your sweet Eddie, soggy and wet and miserable, is the hero of the day. He transports twelve fish to the safety of the van. After his last run, he comes back with flushed cheeks and a twinkle in his eye.

"What about these little guys?" he asks, pointing to the fish in the bowls.

"I think their fates have been decided by a crueler god," you sigh.

"Munson! Your break is over! Stop loitering and get back to your booth!" the aforementioned crueler god barks, chasing him off with a threatening wave of her clipboard.

That's alright. Less than an hour to go, twenty-four fish saved, and a diploma with Eddie Munson's name on it being printed very soon. It's worth it.

When the time comes to pack up, Miss Click comes to collect the rest of your cash.

"How much do you get for taking the fish back?"

"How many are left?" she asks, eyes darting from her fistful of cash to the bucket that the boys of Corroded Coffin helped you empty.

"Just the ones in the bowls," you answer.

She performs a quick fish count and cringes. There are ten left.

"I don't even think it's worth trying to take those back," she sighs.

"Can I have them?" you ask. She eyes you suspiciously. "I've grown attached to the little fellas," you shrug, looking to the ground shyly.

"Fine," she laughs. "It's barely a dollar's worth of fish, and saves me an hour. You did a good job, moving so many! I bet there's a lot of happy kids out there, and a lot of dough in here!" She waves the leather zipper pouch containing the funds.

You smile, grateful that she didn't notice how few people were actually walking around with fish.

"We have to return the bowls though, so you'll have to put them in bags when you take them."

"That's alright," you grin. "I can handle bags."

You bag your remaining fish and present them to the boys with a grin when the post-carnival clean-up is complete.

"Look, guys! I get to bring a few fishies home!"

Your joy is met with eye-rolls and groans.

"What the hell are you gonna do with all those?" Eddie asks once you're safely in the fish-filled van.

"Eat them?" Gareth suggests.

"I bet if I put them into the tub with you, they'd eventually nibble you to death," you threaten.

"Nah, don't do that," Jeff says. "His funk will kill the poor little fishies." Gareth smacks him, and a playful slap fight breaks out in the back of the van.

You're all laughing as you pull out of the parking lot… but your smile soon fades. What are you going to do with all of these fish?

"Anybody want to take a fish or two home?" you ask hopefully.

"Nope," the boys in the back say in unison.

"Eddie?"

He puts his hand up, blocking his face from your view so you can't work your puppy-eyed magic. You roll your eyes.

"I'm gonna need a bigger bathtub," you sigh.

Thirty minutes later, after Jeff and Grant are dropped off, Eddie pulls into your driveway.

"How are you going to break it to Mom that you brought home a hundred fish?" Gareth grins.

"I had accomplices," you remind him. "And there are only… thirty-four?!"

Two Days Later

"Okay, babies, are we ready?" you ask, smiling down into one of two buckets full of goldfish.

Much to your surprise, your mother did not murder you for bringing home 34 mostly stolen goldfish. She found the situation hilarious, and declared that she'd always wanted a backyard fish pond anyway.

Your babies were freed from their bags and put into buckets for the night. The next morning, there was a group expedition to the home improvement store.

It took all weekend to get the hole dug and the liner laid and the filters installed, but you all had so much fun doing it.

(Except maybe Gareth, who hissed "I'll get you for this" every time he stopped to wipe the sweat from his brow.)

There's still work to be done with the overall landscaping, but flowers are your mother's department, so those can wait. Now, it's time to introduce your fishies to their new home.

You look to Eddie, standing on the other side of the little pond with a fish-filled bucket of his own.

"Release the fishes!" your mom calls, camera at the ready.

You both start to pour, slowly, and watch the little gold creatures plop into the pond and start swimming. When the buckets are empty, you set them aside and meet in the middle, kneeling beside the pond to peer down into it.

"They look so happy," you whisper.

"Well, yeah," Gareth grunts, dropping to his knees beside you. "They have a memory span of like three seconds."

"So do you," you and Eddie say together, looking away from your fish long enough to smirk at each other.

"That's good, though," Eddie says quietly, wrapping an arm around you. "Because they don't remember the carnival. They've already forgotten all the bad stuff. This is their life now."

"And it's gonna be a good one," you smile, leaning into him.

"How do we forget that fucking carnival?" Gareth mumbles.

Eddie glances back to see how far away your mom is. She's staring at a butterfly on one of her flowers through the camera's viewfinder.

"The good shit's in the van," he whispers. "Our memory loss comes later."

#writings of despair #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x evil woman

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ceeplays · 9 months

Text

Favorite Default Replacements & Game Override Mods (Part 1 - Object Overrides)

A compiled list of my favorite default replacement and override mods from the past year, plus a few classics that I just couldn't leave out. This is Part 1/3 of a collection of cc finds.

(More info and download links below the cut). ♥

𝐻𝒶𝓅𝓅𝓎 𝒩𝑒𝓌 𝒴𝑒𝒶𝓇! ₊˚⊹ ᰔ

I hope you all had a lovely, restful holiday, and that the bugs in For Rent haven't made you rage quit just yet. •ᴗ• I don't know about you guys, but lately I've been feeling extra grateful for all the stunning creations our modding community has been releasing. So, I figured I'm long overdue for another mod rec list and voila! - here we are.

This time, I'll be linking my favorite default replacement and override mods! While I mostly focused on newer releases, I also tried to add some overrides I don't frequently see mentioned on YT or in rec lists.

The original post got quite lengthy, so Tumblr forced me to divide this list into three (3) separate parts (sorry for the inconvenience!). - Part 2: Food & Kitchen, and World Overrides (here) - Part 3: Electronics & Font Replacements (here)

As always, I hope you find this useful, happy holidays to all who celebrate, & happy simming! ♥

------------------₊˚⊹♡

Object Overrides:

@kirsicca : (1) The Modern Loveseat, (2) The Amaranth Sink, (3) Barely-Used BG Toilets

@surely-sims : (1) Growing Together Treehouse (becomes seasonal), (2) Vanity Make-Up Props, (3) Fire Alarm, (4) No Footprint Sleeping Bags, (5) Invisible Bassinet, (6) Basinet, (7) Booboo Billy Toy, (8) Nesting Blocks

@depthofpixels-cc : (1) Growing Together Treehouse Slide

@cowplant-snacks : (1) Seasons Holiday Tree

@lonvely : (1) Magnolia Promenade Trolley, (2) Toothbrush

@symphonysim : (1) Horse Grooming Tools

@dscombobulate : (1) Boxing Gloves, (2) Toothbrush

@superflare : (1) Infant & Toddler Sippy Cup

@simder-talia-blog (original creator unknown) : (1) Ice Skates

@elflike : (1) Ice Skates

@duplica-imite : (1) Ice Skates

@vroshii : (1) Ping Pong Paddle (becomes tennis racket)

@myxdollyt : (1) Fenty Make-Up Override, (2) Bratz Make-Up Override

@simmerwellpupper : (1) Game Controller (PS5 DualSense Controller)

@largetaytertots : (1) Default Replacement Haul (Lipstick, Pet Carrier, Mop, Pet Leash, Rake, Snow Shovel, Infant Toy, & more!), (2) Laundry Pile, (3) Folded Laundry, (4) Razor, (5) Cleaning Overrides (Sponge & Cleaning Spray)

@vixonspixels : (1) Female Roller Blades, (2) Folded Laundry, (3) Infant Bath Sponge, (4) High School Bus, (5) Restaurant Menu, (6) High School Homework, (7) High School Textbook, (8) University Homework, (9) Pencil, (10) Dog Leash

@bbygyal123 : (1) Infant Carrier

@apricotrush : (1) Scrub Daddy Sponge, (2) Presents, (3) Cleaning Spray

@serkisyan : (1) Playing Cards, (2) Make-Up, (3) Mail Envelopes/Bills, (4) Paint Brush/Easel Pencil, (5) Electric Toothbrush, (6) Charcoal Toothbrush, (7) Infant Bottle, (8) Cleaning Spray #1, (9) Cleaning Spray #2

@channel4sims-cc : (1) Aquarium Fish, (2) Kitchen Sponge, (3) Infant Bath Seat, (4) Infant Rubber Duck

@sims41ife : (1) Totoro Watering Can, (2) Laundry Bag & Pile, (3) Public Phone Booth (includes simlish swatches), (4) Game Controller, (5) Coffee Cup

@awingedllama : (1) Infant Crib, (2) Game Controller, (3) Bassinet

@cecesimsxo : (1) Infant Bottle

@ellcrze : (1) Infant Bottle, (2) Sponge

@bellassims : (1) Mysims Trophies (become squishmallows), (2) Mysims tTophies (become tsum tsum plushies), (3) Mysims Trophies (become disney tsum tsums)

@cocoelleansims : (1) Infant Bottle, (2) Grocery Bag, (3) Plopsy (becomes etsy)

@imfromsixam : (1) Infant Bottle, (2) Infant Rug, (3) Stand Mixer, (4) Invisible Bassinet

@hydrangeachainsaw : (1) Game Controller #1, (2) Game Controller #2, (3) Infant Bath Seat, (4) Infant Bottle (warning - paywalled)

@pixelvibes : (1) Elephant Watering Can (warning - paywalled), (2) Infant Bath Seat (warning - paywalled)

------------------₊˚⊹♡

the end! ♥

#ceesfinds #ts4 default replacement #ts4 overrides #ts4overrides #ts4defaultreplacement #ts4 #thesims4 #simblr

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g3z0 · 6 months

Text

Bathroom

Summary: You are friends with the triplets. Not Nick, tho. You can’t stand him. That doesn’t change that you have wet dreams of him. One night, at a party over the triplets house, your dreams become reality.

Warnings: cursing, SMUTTT, drinking,

This was so out of my comfort zone 😭

-g3z0

I‘ve known the triplets for a while now. I’m mostly friends with Chris and Matt. But Nick-

Oh Nick.

He makes my fucking blood boil.

Nick is stubborn and sassy. He can never shut the fuck up and he always has something mean to say.

A fucking brat.

He’s so fucking cocky but god- it makes me want to press my dick into his throat so he can’t talk anymore.

Of course he doesn’t know that. No one knows. The wet dreams I had about him and the moments where I look at his IG while I’m jerking off, remain for me alone.

It would push his ego too much. And it’s fucking weird if I think about it.

Im like always hanging out at their house. With his brothers. But still I can’t help it to imagine all those things with him. I keep it to myself - no harm caused. Right?

„Ohhh!“ Chris squeaks as the ping pong ball I just thrown, lands into one of the cup of the opposite team.

Matt lets out an annoyed groan, throwing his head back. „It’s no fucking fun to play with you.“ he sighs, looking back at me as he grabs the cup.

I let out a laugh and shrug with my shoulders „then learn how to play better.“ Matt rolls his eyes playfully and grabs the ball out of the cup before chugging the beer down.

Nate grabs the ball out of Matt’s hand and throws it to us. It lands into one of our cups and Matt throws his arms up „get his ass!“ he laughs.

„Ladies first.“ Chris grins as he nudges me with his Elbow. „Pussy.“ I mumble with a smile. I grab the cup and take the ball out of it before chugging the beer down.

I scrunch my nose a little and bring the cup down once I’m finished. The beer is warm and tastes disgusting.

My eyes meet the piercing blue ones of Nick - the ones I hate and adore at the same time. He gives me an amused smirk before he continues to talk to some twink.

„Im going to take a piss.“ I say to Chris while I’m handing him the ball in my hand.

He nods at me before going back to concentrate at our beer pong game. I turn around and walk into the hallway, to the bathroom.

I push the door handle down and press my weight against the wall but the door doesn’t move. Locked. I let out an annoyed sigh and walk up the stairs.

I grab onto the stair railing for support. Fuck, I need to slow down with the drinking. I blink my eyes for a few times and walk to the bathroom that’s upstairs.

I don’t bother to close the door behind me. I really don’t care right now. I take my piss and pull my jeans back up after.

I walk to the sink and turn the water on, washing my hands. I glare at the mirror in front of me.

Fucking hell, I just realize how drunk I actually am.

„Can’t you close the fucking door?“ I hear nicks voice. I look over my shoulder and see him standing in the door way, his arm crossed.

I smile to myself and turn the water off. „Can’t you ever shut up?“ I chuckle as I grab the towel next to the sink.

He hums in response and walks in, closing the door behind him. He leans his back and head against the wall. I hang the towel back next to the sink and look back up at him.

„don’t you need to go back to your little twink?“ I ask, leaning against the sink and crossing my arms in front of my chest.

He scoffs and tilts his head „don’t tell me you‘re jealous, y/n.“

Oh, fuck.

I give him a sarcastic smile and quint my eyes „funny.“

The corner of his lips turn up into a smirk. „oh, so you are?“ he asks as he pushes himself off the wall.

I roll my eyes „don’t flatter yourself, Nick.“ I say. He takes a step closer to me.

„tell me, y/n...“

Closer.

„do I make you nervous?.“

Closer.

I blink my eyes up at him and feel how my cheeks start to heat up as he stands in front of me. „What the fuck are you talking about?“ I breathe.

God, I hate how confident he is.

He licks his lips and smirks, leaning down to my ear. „y/n..“ he whispers.

His fingers graze my waist lightly up to my hips, causing my breathe to hitch. „You hate me, don’t you?“ he whispers.

I close my eyes for a moment „yeah..“ I breathe. He purses his lips and nods a little „then why aren’t you pushing me away?“ he whispers into my ear.

„I-" my breathe hitches again as he presses his knee between my legs, his thigh brushing by dick. „Hmm? What was that?“ he whispers, looking down at me.

I take a deep breathe. „Fuck off.“ I mumble. „Feisty, aren’t we?“ he chuckles. „Nick, for real, fuck o-" I let out a small whimper as he rubs his thigh against my bulge.

„your body is saying something different..“ he mumbles, looking down at his thigh and my dick.

I can feel myself getting harder and harder and I let out a shaky breathe. „Tell me to stop.“ he whispers against my neck before he starts to kiss it.

I press my lips together. „No?“ he smirks „you don’t want me to stop?“ His hand comes up to my waist. „Tell me you hate me..“ he whispers before he bites into my neck.

I close my eyes and clench my jaw „god- I fucking hate you..“ I mumble under my breathe.

„Atta boy..“ he smirks.

This is a dream. A fucking dream. This can’t be real.

I let out a pathetic whimper as he palms me through my pants with his hand. Painfully slow.

„Say please and I’ll do more..“ he whispers as he looks down at me. I grit my teeth together and shake my head, hanging my head down.

His other hand comes up to my chin and he lifts it, making me look back up at him. „no? Want me to stop?“ he says, palming me with more pressure.

„F-fuck..“ I breathe, closing my eyes. „Hmm?“ he hums, smirking at me. I lick my lips and nod quickly. „Please..“ I whisper.

Im weak. I tried to stay strong but I’m fucking weak for him.

„Please what?“ he asks, kissing my neck again.

This motherfucker.

I squeeze my eyes shut and press my hips against his hand, trying to cause more friction.

He grabs my waist with his hands and presses me back against the sink. „Don’t.“ he says. He looks back at me „please what?“ he repeats.

I take a deep breathe and close my eyes for a moment. „Anything, please..“ I mumble. He smiles in response and presses his lips against mine.

I breathe into the kiss, wrapping my arms automatically around his neck as we kiss. The kiss is passionate and sloppy and I can feel how my knees start to go weak.

„So needy..“ he mumbles between kisses and then he grabs me by my waist and turns me around. He presses himself against me and I can feel his bulge against my ass.

I let out a shaky breathe and lay my hands on the sink. „Tell me what you want..“ he whispers into my ear before he kisses my neck again.

„You..“ I breathe, closing my eyes and leaning my head back to give him more space.

I can feel him smiling against my skin before I feel his hands coming up to my pants, opening them and pulling them down. He does the same with his.

„You gotta stay quiet, can you do that for me?“ he asks. I nod quickly and press my lips together.

„Good.“ he smirks before he pulls my Boxershorts and his own down. He pulls me closer and adjusts his dick at my entrance. I bite my lip and look down.

I can’t believe this is happening. This isn’t real, it’s-

I let out a whimper caused of pain as he pushes himself into me. „F-fuck..“ I whine, squeezing my eyes.

„So thight, shit..“ he breathes. His lips find his way back to my shoulder and neck. „You okay?“ he asks.

I nod a little, taking a deep breathe. „M-mhm..“ I mumble. „Move..“ I whisper.

He nods a little and starts to move slowly and gently at first, but with every thrust he gets more rougher and faster.

I grab onto the sink, my knuckles turn white. „n-Nick, fuck..“ I moan. „Shh..“ he whispers, bringing his hand up to my mouth.

I moan against his hand and squeeze my eyes shut.

He lifts my head and I blink my eyes open, seeing the reflection of us in the mirror in front of us.

„look at you, saying you hate me and now moaning my name.“ he whispers into my ear before he thrusts deeper into me.

I whimper against his hand, squeezing my eyes shut again. „No, open your eyes, I want you to look at yourself while I fuck you.“ he demands before he presses a sloppy kiss along my jaw.

I try my best to follow his orders, trying to keep my eyes open while he fucks me.

I fail miserably, letting my head hang down and whining against his hand as he hits my G-spot repeatedly.

„Look at you or I’ll stop.“ he grunts against my neck.

„F-fucking bastard..“ I moan against his hand, bringing my head back up.

„What was that?“ he smirks as he looks into my eyes through the mirror reflection before he thrusts harder into me.

I let out a loud whimper and feel my knees go weak. „Mhm.. that’s what I thought.“ he pants as he digs his fingernails into my skin.

„Nick, fuck Nick-" I moan like a mess against his hand. „Shh- fuck, keep quiet..“ he moans softly before he leans his forehead against my back.

He brings his other hand up to my dick, stroking it. I squeeze my eyes shut and grab onto his arm. „S-shit-" I let out a muffled moan.

He turns my face towards him and presses his lips against mine. I whine into the sloppy, wet kiss.

I can feel my dick starting to twitch and I dig my fingernails into his arm. „C-close, fuck-" I moan between kisses.

He strokes my dick faster till I come all over his hand. He pulls away from the kiss and stops moving. I breathe heavily and swallow, trying to catch my breath.

He brings one hand back to my waist and with the other he presses my back down, bending me over the sink.

„Im not done yet.“ he mumbles before he starts to thrust into me again.

„Nick- f-fuck“ I whimper as I hang my head down.

I feel his hand coming up to my hair before he grabs lightly on it, pulling my head back.

I let out a whine and press my lips together as I feel how tears start to fill my eyes.

„So good for me..“ he pants as he thrusts deeper into me.

Im a moaning mess, feeling how tears run down my cheeks cause of the overstimulation.

I can feel him twitch in me and he thrusts a few times more till he pulls out and finishes over my back.

He pants heavily and lets go off my hair, leaning his forehead against my back. He catches his breathe slowly and turns me around.

„You good?“ he asks softly. I swallow and lean my head onto his shoulder. „Y-you ruined my shirt..“ I mumble.

He lets out a laugh „I just fucked you senseless and now you have an attitude again?“ I let out a weak scoff.

„You can borrow one of mine.“ he mumbles. I bring my head back up and look at him. „Matt and Chris will notice..“ I say.

He raises his eyebrows and shakes his head „they are too drunk to notice, trust me.“

#sturniolo triplets #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo x reader #sturniolo triplets x reader #nick sturniolo x you #nick x reader #dom!nick sturniolo #sturniolosmut #nicksturniolosmut

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