#i need my own theme song at this point | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

vivelegalite · 6 months ago

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dear dead boy detective (especially paynland) enjoyers: have you yet heard of the biggest gift bestowed upon the fandom so far, aka jayden's charles playlist? the one he mentioned in interviews? well, he dropped it on twitter at 19th of may. and man, do i have stuff to say about it.

there's a lot of 80's bangers, for sure, great to get into the mood and character, but some of the choices...

i'm gonna focus on a few of my favourites, songs that made me go insane when i saw them. honorable mentions: - category 1 (so devoted the lines blur): ain't no mountain high enough by marvin gaye and tammi terrell, there is a light that never goes out by the smiths, inkpot gods by the amazing devil - category 2 (family life): family line and summer child by conan gray, seventeen going under by sam fender, matilda by harry styles, father by the front bottoms - category 3 (being queer in the 80s): smalltown boy by bronski beat, boys don't cry by the cure - category 4 (there's no heterosexual explanation for this one): good luck, babe! by chappel roan, yellow by coldplay, fight or flight by conan gray (is this about monty? the cat king? i need answers!), the prophecy by taylor swift, arms tonite by mother mother, sweet by cigarettes after sex, head over heels by tears for fears

this list is by no means complete or comprehensive!

and now, the songs that made me go the craziest: (they're predominantly in charles' pov as it's his playlist)

found heaven by conan gray

the only reason this song made it into the list and not the honorable mentions instead of smalltown boy is that it makes almost the same point, just so much more explicitly. i don't think i have to say much about it, it's a story of a young person griping with their queerness, being forced to leave home, a common theme of the playlist. "you're in love, you found heaven" when he chose edwin over his own afterlife, heavily implied to be heaven, and built his heaven with him on the mortal plane? ouch! (and we see this same notion repeated in another bop from the playlist, heaven is a place on earth by belinda carlisle).

2. like real people do by hozier

"i miss kissing" charles rowland, 202X romantic meaning aside, the verses show a sort of a common understanding the boys have around the manner of their deaths and their lives before it. we already know from the show they don't really talk about it, with edwin not knowing about the severity of the abuse charles suffered. it feels like one of them saying "let the past be past, we're together now, yeah?". but also, jayden: can there ever be a platonic explanation for this? ghosts can't touch, can't feel, so they wish they could just kiss like "real" (alive?) people do?

3. flaws by bastille

not the most romantic song, but i absolutely love how well it fits their dynamic. despite his edwardian brand of repression, edwin truly is the one that's more open about his feelings (recognising of course that in this case, the bar is so low it's in hell. haha, get it). edwin has worn his flaws upon his sleeve, and charles has held them buried - eg. bottling up all of his anger and resentment towards his family and his own death. the song presents a very sweet outlook, in which their flaws are brought up to the surface (for example, charles' outburst against the night nurse in episode 4), but they learn to accept them as they are, an extension of themselves.

4. a pearl by mitski

you know it's gonna get intense if there's a mitski song in the mix.

the song is about a person who finds love in their partner, someone who treats them way better than they've ever been treated - and yet they cannot bring themselves to reciprocate the affection ("it's not that i don't want you, sorry i can't take your touch") despite reciprocating the feelings themselves because of the trauma. charles is known to bottle things up ("you're growing tired of me and all the things i don't talk about"). the person in the song recognises the love the other person holds for them ("you love me so hard and i still can't sleep"), which reminds me of charles' response to edwin's confession. not a "no", but a "maybe, as time passes".

5. fair by the amazing devil

this one made me genuinely gasp when i first delved into the lyrics. it's simply so sweet, such a genuine and domestic portrayal of love. at first i thought it was way too open about being a love song (normal text instead of the subtext i'd be used to) for jayden to choose it with edwin in mind, but... there's no one else it can really be about. it's far too domestic, too "established" to refer to crystal. refers to a relationship that's laster for a longer while.

the narrator in the first verse is a person deeply in love with the other person, someone who loves to make his lover laugh and simply drinks in their presence. the "he" in the song i believe is charles, while the "she" refers to edwin. edwin promises to fight off anyone - or any feelings pulling charles down (we can see this in the first episode: "you ever think... what if death did catch us? she'd force us to go to the afterlife and split up" "i will make sure this never happens."). charles feels left behind by the world (seeing as he clings to crystal at first, refering to her as "someone their age who's still alive") and believes edwin to be so much stronger than he's ever been. i'm not going to break down the song verse by verse, but if you read it yourself while subbing out "he" for charles and "she" for edwin you'll see just how sweet (and... strangely very in character?) the song is.

6. work song by hozier

if the previous song made me gasp when i saw the lyrics, this one made me go "NO WAY" out loud when i saw the title. the first one verse is just pure toothrotting sweetness, but the chorus is what i want to draw attention to:

when my time comes around lay me gently in the cold, dark earth no grave can hold my body down i'll crawl home to her

HELLO? charles, who keeps escaping death and afterlife to be able to stay with edwin? charles, as he literally takes his last breath with edwin right there, choosing to be by his side rather than move on? charles, who keeps choosing him despite night nurse's promises and threats? charles, who literally crawled through hell for him?

verse 2, to me, can be interpreted as referring to when charles died. edwin found him at his worst, and he "woke" up with his presence comforting him. he was shivering due to hypothermia and his injuries. edwin didn't ask him about what happened or pushed him, he simply listened. the lines "i didn't care much how long i lived, but I swear, i thought i dreamed her" are pretty self explanatory.

in verse 3 we still see the same attitude of "damn the afterlife, at least we have each other" as charles portrays througout the series. they're free, and heaven and hell are simply words to him.

7. orpheus by vincent lima

i literally have no words for this one. it fits too well. if you want commentary for this one, just... i don't know, rewatch the staircase scene.

8. francesca by hozier

(cracks knuckles) this is the big one. the album francesca is from, unreal unearth, is based on dante alighieri's divine comedy, a fourteenth century poem about a man venturing into hell, purgatory and eventually heaven. the eponymous francesca is one francesca di rimini, a woman who was politically married off to a man older than her, called giovanni malatesta. francesca didn't love him, and eventually fell deep in love with giovanni's younger brother, paolo. the two carried on with the affair for years, before being murdered by giovanni upon his finding out. francesca and paolo are mentioned in canto v of the first book, inferno, as two souls damned in the second circle of hell, lust. their punishment is to be permanently locked in a hurricane, swept away by the winds the moment they manage to get close enough to touch one another.

as opposed to their portrayal in the poem, the song is from the perspective of paolo, explaining that no matter the punishment, he wouldn't change anything about his life because he got to know, and love, francesca.

the first verse brings to mind the scenes in hell, especially on the staircase ("do you think I'd give up? that this might've shook the love from me? or that I was on the brink? how could you think, darlin', i'd scare so easily?" as an echo of charles' "sorry. no version of this where i didn't come get you"). "my life was a storm since i was born, how could i fear any hurricane?" could relate to charles' tumultuous family life, an assurance that nothing he has to deal with while by edwin's side will faze him given the things he's lived through. no, despite everything he's suffered through, charles wouldn't do anything differently - because his (admittedly shitty) life led him to edwin ("i'd tell them, put me back in"). we already know charles would choose him over heaven, willingly sacrificing his own afterlife to stay with a boy he's known for hours, someone kind enough to keep him company as he drew his final breath. all of it - his father's abuse, his schoolmates' bigotry, the pain of his own death, as well as everything he's gone through since - he'd do it all again, for edwin.

"for all that was said of where we'd end up at the end of it" could be taken as an allusion to the fate the boys would meet at "at the end of it", when they're finally caught by death and separated, or as more of a general "if you sin, you will go to hell when you die" (up to you to decide what the sin itself would be - an interpretation that would work with other songs on the playlist is that one such sin would be same sex attraction). then their hearts ceased, they never knew "peace", nor did they want to find it in death. their deaths were too soon, them being ripped away from life, but even though it would break his heart: charles would ask to do it all again.

the outro, i think, beautifully pulls it all together: heaven is not fit to house a love like theirs.

to wrap it all up:

jayden, what were you cooking in there? what do you know??

#please interact w me please please please i need dbd moots <3 #dbda #dead boy detectives #dead boy detective agency #paynland #payneland #painland #paineland #chedwin #charles rowland #edwin paine #edwin payne #dead boy detectives agency #dead boy detectives analysis #aough jayden your mind #my art #<- my umbrella trashcan tag

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lolacelest101 · 3 days ago

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No Need For Privacy

18+ MDNI

Hii!!! This is my first story or anything like this that I write and publish so I am sure it will be bad. I would love to get your feedback and let me know if I missed anything in the TWs. I am a big fan of F1 and other mainstream spaces so I will try to do more in the future.

Happy Reading!

Word Count: 6131

Themes: Lando!Norris x Fem!American!reader, Embarrassing moment turn spicy, next door neighbor, close proximity

Smutty tings: wall pinning, voyeurism, exhibitionism, masturbation, mirror sex, p in v, unprotected sex (please practice safe sex!!!!), spanking, oral sex, slight edging, fingering, gagging, praise and degradation kink.

Your POV

I moved to Monaco a week ago with my two best friends from work, Liana and Aaliyah. It’s been a dream come true for all of us, especially since our company launched a new project in the Monaco branch and requested our expertise.

Settling in has been a breeze, mostly thanks to Alexander Qasemi, the top manager of the Monaco office. He has multiple investments in the area and offered to rent out one of his properties to us at a discount. It’s conveniently close to the office, and his wife, Catalina, has been a lifesaver, helping us get set up, showing us around, and pointing out all the spots we need to check out. Coming from Florida, Monaco feels like a mix of Palm Beach and Miami, but it’s still a world apart from Tampa, where we grew up.

The house has three bedrooms, each with its own view from the second floor. We picked rooms based on the views, but I ended up going for the one with extra closet space—even if it has a “boring” view of the street and a direct line of sight into the house next door. And judging by what I’ve seen, the neighbor isn’t big on privacy; I can see right into what looks like the main bedroom.

I wake up to Liana singing loudly to what sounds like a new song by The Weeknd, her voice filling the house. Squinting as sunlight streams into my room, I reluctantly drag myself up and into the bathroom to wash my face and brush my teeth, choosing to ignore my messy bed hair. Liana’s door is open, and she spots me staggering around like a zombie.

“Good morning, sunshine!” she shouts, singing along with the song. All I can think is, It’s way too early for this.

I shuffle back to my room and glance at the clock on my nightstand. It flashes 10:32 AM, and panic hits—I remember that Catalina mentioned she’d be here around 10:45 AM to show us more of the area, and she insisted we make time for it.

I rush back into the hallway, suddenly wide awake. “Liana, why didn’t you wake us up? Catalina’s gonna be here any minute!”

Liana smirks and says, “I did, about 30 minutes ago. Aaliyah’s already up and made coffee. You told me I was ‘handsome and sexy’ and asked for five more minutes.” She’s trying not to laugh, and my face goes red as I realize I was probably having an almost wet dream.

“Well… he sure was, wasn’t he?” I say, trying to brush it off. “But we still need to hurry.”

After a quick change into something suitable for the weather, I throw on some black skinny jeans that hug my curves, a short flowy black-and-white striped top, and sneakers.

“Y/N, come down! Catalina’s here,” Aaliyah calls up the stairs.

I see her car pulling up from my window, so I run down to grab a quick sip of coffee before she knocks on the door. Liana’s sitting on the couch, putting her shoes on, and I lean against the counter, downing my coffee like it’s a race. Aaliyah opens the door, greeting Catalina with hugs and kisses. I set my mug down, go over to greet her, and offer to make her a coffee before we start the tour.

Catalina’s dressed in a floral top and white pants, looking like the definition of “aging like fine wine.” Despite being in her 60s, she doesn’t look a day over 40. She radiates warmth, like a grandmother everyone wishes they had.

Liana goes back to grab her phone, and as Catalina and I step outside, we bump into a man with dark hair and intense eyes. Catalina lights up as soon as she sees him, opening her arms for a hug.

“Oh, Max! I didn’t know you’d be here!” she says, surprised, pulling him in for an embrace.

“It was very last-minute for the Monaco GP,” he replies, hugging her back. When he lets go, he glances at me expectantly.

“Max, this is Y/N,” Catalina says. “She moved here a week ago with her friends.”

Max extends his hand, and I shake it, trying to keep my cool. “Nice to meet you. I guess we’ll be running into each other a lot,” I say, smiling.

Holy shit, Max Fewtrell is staying next door! My mind races, and I make a mental note to change my Quadrant phone case ASAP—I don’t want him thinking I’m some obsessive fan.

Max’s voice snaps me back. “Ah, an American accent! Nice to meet you, Y/N.”

I laugh lightly as Liana and Aaliyah join us. I introduce them, and Max shakes their hands before introducing himself.

“Nice to meet you,” he says. “I’m not exactly your neighbor, but my best friend lives here, so you’ll probably see him more often than me. Oh—there he is now,” he adds, looking over my shoulder.

My heart skips. The only person this could be is Lando Norris, and I’m about to pretend I’m way cooler than I actually am.

I snap back to see Lando Norris, head down, fiddling with his car keys. When he looks up, he immediately spots Catalina, a smile breaking across his face.

“Hey, you! How’ve you been? I already miss having you as my neighbor,” he says, giving her a hug.

She laughs, “I’ve missed you too, but I brought you some new company, so you won’t miss me too much.” Catalina turns to us with a smile. “Lando, these are the new neighbors: Liana, Aaliyah, and Y/N.”

Lando shakes each of our hands. His grip is firm, his fingers slightly calloused, probably from hours on the simulator. When he gets to me, I feel his gaze linger a bit longer, like he’s trying to place me.

“I don’t mean to sound creepy, but… you’re the one sleeping in that room, right?” He nods toward my bedroom window.

Caught off guard, I stammer, “Uh… yeah, that’s mine. Why?”

A faint blush crosses his face, a sly grin forming as he glances back at me. “You might want to, uh… move your mirror. Just saying.”

It takes a second for the realization to hit, but when it does, I’m mortified. I remember putting my large gold mirror directly across from the window and how, last night, after a long day of rearranging, I decided to… “treat” myself, lights on and all.

My mind races back to that memory—me stripping down, lying on my bed, a vibrator in one hand…

I force myself back to the present, trying to salvage what little dignity I have left. “Oh! I didn’t realize anyone was home over there… It looked empty all week.”

Lando chuckles, his grin widening. “Yeah, I just got back last night. And… well, let’s just say I got quite the welcome back.”

The heat rising in my cheeks is unbearable, and I quickly turn to Catalina. “So, Catalina, you mentioned we have a lot of places to see today?”

I feel Lando’s eyes on me, making my skin prickle with heat.

“Yes! Let’s get going.” Catalina waves goodbye to the guys, and we start heading toward her SUV. As I walk away, I can still feel Lando’s gaze burning into me, like he’s savoring every second of my embarrassment.

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Later That Night

The night air is warm and slightly humid, with a faint breeze blowing in from the sea. We’d just gotten back from the club, laughing and chattering as we climbed out of the cab. Aaliyah and Liana are still buzzing with energy, but I hang back a bit, enjoying the cool air on my flushed skin.

Liana nudges my shoulder. “We’re going inside to get some water. You good out here?”

I nod, waving them off. “Yeah, I just need a moment to cool down. I’ll be right behind you.”

They head inside, leaving me alone in the quiet of the street. I close my eyes, letting the night’s calm settle around me, when I hear footsteps. I look up, and there’s Lando, standing just a few feet away with Max at his side. Max offers a friendly nod before slipping inside, leaving Lando and me alone on the sidewalk.

“Well, look who it is,” Lando drawls, a smirk playing on his lips. “Didn’t expect to see you out here this late.”

I shrug, trying to act nonchalant. “Just needed some air. The club was loud.”

He steps closer, his gaze intense. “So, have you moved that mirror yet?”

I feel my cheeks heat up despite the cool night air. “Why do you keep bringing that up?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” he says, his tone teasing. “Maybe because it’s hard to forget. Didn’t realize you were such an exhibitionist, but hey, I’m not complaining.”

I scoff, rolling my eyes. “I didn’t know anyone was watching. And I’m not an exhibitionist.”

He raises an eyebrow, the smirk never leaving his face. “Could’ve fooled me. You looked pretty comfortable up there, totally absorbed… didn’t even close the blinds.”

The tension between us is thick, the memory of last night making my pulse race. I cross my arms, feeling his gaze linger on me. “Well, you could’ve looked away.”

“Could’ve,” he agrees, stepping even closer until he’s barely a foot away. His voice drops lower, his tone laced with something dark and enticing. “But I didn’t want to.”

A shiver runs through me as his words sink in. We’re standing close enough now that I can feel his warmth, his eyes scanning my face, searching for something. His gaze drops briefly to my lips, and I can feel the air crackling between us, heavy and charged.

I tilt my head, giving him a challenging look. “You get off on watching your neighbors, then?”

His smirk deepens. “Not usually. But you’re not just any neighbor, are you?”

I swallow, feeling my resolve slipping. “And what makes me so special?”

Lando’s hand lifts, his fingers brushing a stray strand of hair from my face, lingering just a second too long. “Something about you… can’t quite put my finger on it.”

His voice is rougher now, barely above a whisper. Every nerve in my body is on fire, my breath hitching as his gaze drops to my lips again.

“What are you waiting for, then?” I murmur, my voice betraying a hint of a dare.

He chuckles softly, his fingers trailing down my cheek. “You sure you can handle it?”

I lean forward, closing the space between us just enough that I can feel the heat of his breath against my lips. “I think I can manage.”

Lando’s hand moves to my waist, pulling me a fraction closer until there’s barely any space left between us. “Careful, princess. Once we start, I might not stop.”

His words are a warning, but his eyes tell a different story—one that has me aching to close the distance, to see just how far this tension can go.

Just as Lando leans in, his hand firmly on my waist and his eyes locked on mine, the front door swings open, breaking the moment.

“Y/N!” Aaliyah calls out, her voice bright and oblivious. “You coming? We need you to settle a debate on which of us danced better tonight!”

I pull back, startled, and glance over at the girls standing in the doorway. They don’t notice Lando standing in the shadows just out of their line of sight.

“Uh, yeah, I’ll be right in,” I call, trying to keep my voice steady, heart still racing from the almost-kiss.

Lando chuckles softly, his hand slipping from my waist, though his gaze doesn’t leave mine. There’s a mischievous glint in his eyes as he leans down, his lips grazing my ear, voice low and teasing. “Guess we’ll have to pick this up some other time, hmm?”

My breath catches, and I turn to give him a playful glare, but he’s already smirking, enjoying every second of my flustered expression. I can barely think straight, still caught up in the heated moment we were just sharing.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” he murmurs, his tone laced with a promise that has my heart thudding against my chest. He steps back, giving me one last lingering look before turning toward his house. He pauses, glancing over his shoulder with that signature smirk.

“Don’t let those blinds stay open tonight,” he says, voice dripping with suggestion. “Or do. Your call.”

I feel a blush rising to my cheeks as he disappears into the darkness, leaving me there with my heart pounding and my mind racing.

I turn back toward the house, trying to regain my composure as I walk inside. Aaliyah and Liana are too caught up in their dance debate to notice the flush on my face or the slight tremble in my hands.

But as I head upstairs, all I can think about is Lando’s words, his hand on my waist, the almost-kiss that left me wanting so much more. That smirk, that challenge—it’s all burned into my mind, and I can still feel the heat of his touch lingering on my skin.

I lie in bed, staring at my mirror across from the window, replaying the night in my mind. And, despite my better judgment, I leave the blinds just a little open.

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The Next Morning

I wake up to a quiet house, the morning sun streaming in through my half-open blinds. Liana and Aaliyah left early to grab some groceries, promising to be back soon, but I decided to stay and sleep in. After a while, though, I find myself wide awake and craving something sweet—specifically, chocolate chip cookies.

I slip into some cozy clothes and head downstairs, popping on some music as I pull ingredients from the cupboards. Soon, the smell of warm cookies fills the air, and I feel a little proud of my spontaneous baking session. Figuring it’d be a nice way to break the ice, I plate a few to bring next door later.

Just as I pull out the last tray from the oven, there’s a knock at the door. I wipe my hands on a towel, open it, and, sure enough, there’s Lando, standing there with his signature smirk.

“Morning, sleeping beauty,” he says, stepping in before I can even invite him. “Saw the girls head out and figured you’d still be here. Thought you’d sleep all day after last night’s… excitement.”

I feel my cheeks heat instantly, but I roll my eyes, trying to brush it off. “Good morning to you, too. And no, I don’t sleep all day. I’m actually productive.”

He glances at the mixing bowls and cooling cookies. “Productive, huh? Baking cookies for the new neighbors?” He reaches over, snagging one from the plate. “Are these just for me?”

“They’re for the neighbors,” I say, crossing my arms with a smirk. “But you’re welcome to have one.”

He takes a bite, savoring it with an approving nod. “Alright, alright—not bad. Didn’t peg you as a homemaker.”

“I’ve got layers,” I tease, nudging him lightly.

He chuckles, but his gaze drifts around the kitchen, taking in the scattered ingredients and my little baking mess. His eyes eventually settle back on me, a glint of mischief lighting them up.

“So, I gotta ask,” he says, leaning against the counter, “did you actually move that mirror? Or should I go check?”

I feel a flicker of heat under his gaze, but I keep my tone even, hoping he won’t catch on. “Of course I did. You were right—it needed to be moved.”

He raises an eyebrow, clearly skeptical. “Oh, yeah? Somehow, I don’t quite believe you.”

Before I can stop him, he’s already heading for the stairs, and my heart leaps. “Lando!” I laugh nervously, following after him. “You don’t need to go up there!”

“Need to see for myself,” he says over his shoulder, that smirk still on his face. “If you really moved it, then you shouldn’t mind me checking.”

He starts toward the stairs, and I blink, realizing what he means. “Wait, Lando—”

But he’s already halfway up, glancing back with that mischievous glint in his eye. “Come on, Y/N. Don’t tell me you’re shy now.”

I trail him up the stairs, heart racing. The truth is, I didn’t move the mirror—it’s still in the exact same spot, right across from the bed. And now he’s about to see it.

He steps into my room and glances around, his gaze landing on the mirror across from the bed, right where he left it in his memory. The corner of his mouth lifts, and he lets out a low chuckle, clearly amused.

“You didn’t move it,” he murmurs, his voice low and pleased.

I cross my arms, trying to play it off. “I like it where it is. Why should I change it just because you got an eyeful?”

Lando steps closer, his gaze never wavering from mine, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Maybe I want another one.”

The tension between us thickens, the air electric. He’s close enough now that I can feel his warmth, his gaze dropping to my lips before returning to my eyes. His hand moves up to gently brush a strand of hair from my face, lingering just a moment too long, fingers tracing down my jaw.

“You’re not afraid of a little attention, are you?” he asks, his voice soft, teasing.

I swallow, trying to steady my breathing. “Depends on who’s watching.”

He leans in even closer, his breath warm against my skin. “Then tonight… don’t close those blinds. And don’t move that mirror.”

The words hang in the air, heavy and filled with promise. My heart races, every nerve tingling as I meet his gaze, a challenge sparking between us that’s impossible to ignore.

Lando’s fingers linger on my jaw for just a moment longer, then he pulls back, that smirk still on his lips as he steps away.

“Enjoy your cookies, Y/N,” he says, glancing over his shoulder as he heads back downstairs, leaving me standing there, breathless, the echo of his words replaying in my mind.

As I watch him leave, I can still feel the heat of his touch, the thrill of his words searing into my memory. And tonight? Well, let’s just say I don’t plan on closing those blinds.

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Later That Night

As the sun dips below the horizon, casting Monaco in a warm, golden glow, I stand in front of my bedroom mirror, adjusting the last few things on my dresser. The blinds are open just enough, casting a soft reflection of the room and inviting in a sliver of the night. I glance over my shoulder at the window, knowing full well who might be watching.

I breathe in, feeling the excitement build. Tonight, I’m ready to give him that “show” he teased me about. I settle onto my bed, relaxing against the pillows, and allow myself to sink into the evening’s quiet. There’s an awareness in the air, the thrill of knowing that maybe, just maybe, I’m being watched.

I reach over to my nightstand, casually bringing out my favorite toys, a purple vibrating dildo and a vibrating toy in the shape of a tongue. Slowly, I begin to lose myself in the moment, all too aware of the tantalizing possibility that Lando might be watching from his window.

Just as I’m truly relaxing into the scene, there’s a firm knock at the door, shattering the silence. My heart jumps as I glance at the door, pulse racing. I hesitate, but something inside pushes me to go see who it is.

I make my way downstairs, opening the door just wide enough to see Lando standing there, his eyes dark, filled with that same mischievous look that’s been driving me crazy. He raises an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth lifting in a smirk.

“You left your blinds open,” he murmurs, his voice low and laced with suggestion. “Thought I’d come by and… check on you.”

In one swift motion, he closes the space between us, his hands sliding around my waist, pressing me firmly against the wall, his body heat igniting every inch of me. His gaze locks onto mine, daring me to pull away, but there’s no chance I would. He dips his head, his lips grazing my ear as he whispers, “You knew exactly what you were doing, didn’t you?”

I shiver, the thrill of his words sparking something wild and eager between us. His hands roam, fingers slipping under my shirt, exploring every curve as his lips capture mine in a kiss that’s hungry and unapologetic, each movement demanding a response.

As he carries me to the bedroom, there’s an electric anticipation, an unspoken promise that fills the space between us. The moment we reached my room, he pressed me against the wall, his hands firm on my waist, holding me steady. His gaze meets mine in the mirror across from us, dark and intense, every look fueling the thrill building between us.

He leans in, his voice a low murmur against my neck. “You knew I couldn’t stay away, didn’t you?” His words send a shiver through me, and he slides his hands along my waist, drawing me even closer, his touch both possessive and gentle, filled with the heat we’ve been holding back.

“I did—but I didn’t anticipate you barging in at this hour,” I manage to say between kisses, each one feeling more primal than the last. My core seems to have a mind of its own, my hips grinding against him, wanting more. Needing more.

He grins against my lips. “Didn’t take you for the needy type, princess.” He pulls back, sitting on the bed, leaving me craving the contact.

“Well, princess, not everything comes easy,” he murmurs, his gaze growing hungrier. “You teased me, so now it’s time you learn your lesson.”

I rise from his lap, tugging his shirt off in one motion, my hands exploring his toned chest and feeling his muscles tense under my touch. I trail kisses from his jaw down his neck, my lips grazing every inch, each one making my core ache with anticipation.

Sliding to my knees between his thighs, I reach the waistband of his trousers and boxers, sliding them down to let his hard cock spring free. My eyes, full of lust and need, are fixed on him, my mouth craving the feel of him. I waste no time wrapping my hand around his length, bringing my mouth to the tip, letting my tongue swirl slowly around the head before sliding down, inch by inch.

His moans and grunts grow stronger, more primal by the second. His hands grip my hair, pulling it into a makeshift ponytail, giving both of us a clearer view in the mirror.

“Fuck, princess, look at you, being such a good girl for me,” he growls, tilting my head to see his cock sliding deep into my mouth, the tip pressing at the back of my throat. Our eyes meet in the reflection, his grin never fading, eyes bright with satisfaction at the sight.

I try hard not to choke or gag as he picks up the pace, using my mouth for his pleasure. I can feel my own need intensifying, wetness pooling as I slip my free hand between my legs, seeking a hint of relief from the ache.

Just as I feel his cum on my tongue, sliding down my throat, my moans vibrate around his length, making him twitch in my mouth. His gaze shifts to the mirror, catching sight of my hand as I touch myself. In that instant, he releases his hold on my head and pulls his cock from my mouth, leaving a mix of confusion and hunger on my face.

“Princess… did I tell you that you could touch yourself?” Lando leans in, lifting my chin so our faces are close, his breath warm against my lips.

“No, you didn’t,” I reply, a hint of rebellion mixed with anticipation flashing across my face.

“Well, bad girls need punishments, so let me think of something.” An idea lights up his eyes as he guides me up onto the bed, positioning me on my hands and knees, facing the mirror. My mascara has smudged, trailing down my cheeks from the tears shed while he was in my mouth.

Part of me craves for him to finally take me and fill me up, while another part wants to see just what punishment he has in store.

He stands beside the bed and instructs me to keep my ass up and face down, so I adjust to ensure we’re both visible in the mirror. Once I settle, Lando’s hand trails from my hair down the arch of my back and onto my ass. He rubs my cheeks, his fingers dipping lower to feel my wetness, sticky and creamy, dripping onto the mattress.

“Look at you. So wet and needy for me,” he murmurs, bringing two fingers coated in my arousal back to my lips. I open my mouth, ready for a taste, and he slides his fingers in, letting me lick them clean. His breath is warm on my neck as he leans close to whisper in my ear.

“Good girls don’t touch themselves unless I say so.” He nibbles on my earlobe. “But it seems like you might just be my needy little slut instead.”

He steps away, the cool air hitting my sensitive core, sending shivers down my spine and adding a thrill to the moment.

Without warning, a sharp smack lands on one of my ass cheeks, the pain mixing with a tingling heat. He rubs over the reddened spot before delivering another smack, this time to the other side.

“Since you teased me twice, you’ll be getting four spanks—unless I see you haven’t learned your lesson.” He counts, “One,” landing a solid smack, then “Two,” and repeats on both sides. By the time he finishes the fourth, his hand has left my skin bright red, each touch leaving a sensitive, electric throb. A mix of pleasure and pain shows on my face with each strike.

“That’s it, my perfect princess,” he murmurs, brushing his fingertips gently over my sore, reddened skin. “You did so well. I think you’ve earned a reward, don’t you?”

“Yes, please,” I breathe, arching my back and raising my hips higher, my aching core desperate for attention. A grin spreads across his face as his fingers slip into my folds, rubbing my swollen clit, drawing a moan from my lips with every heavy breath.

Lando’s hunger grows more possessive as he slips a finger inside me, filling my tight heat. The sensation sends my body into overdrive, and the pleasure on his face only fuels the fire inside me. He slides another finger in, his free hand roaming along the curve of my arching spine.

His thumb continues to circle my sensitive clit, his pace quickening as he pumps his fingers in and out, each movement leaving me trembling with need. I bite my lip, trying to muffle my moans, but the pleasure is too much.

“Lando… I’m—close,” I manage to breathe out between gasps and moans.

“Oh, princess, I can see that,” he murmurs, sliding his fingers out of me suddenly, leaving an unbearable emptiness in their wake.

My wetness clings to his fingers in a glistening string as he pulls them away. “Fuck, you look so good on my fingers,” he growls, his gaze fixed on the sight of my arousal. Slowly, he brings his fingers to his lips, wrapping his tongue around them and sucking them clean.

“FUCK. And you taste ten thousand times better.” His eyes flutter shut for a moment as he savors the taste, the heat in the room climbing higher. The sight of him tasting me sends my brain spiraling into bliss, my gaping mouth wordlessly wishing for more.

Moments later, he leans down, his tongue sliding through my folds, the sensation stealing the air from my lungs. He places a light, teasing kiss on my core before beginning to suck and eat every inch of my pussy with eager determination.

“Fuck, you’re addictive, princess,” he murmurs against my entrance, the vibration of his voice making me shiver. His hands grip my ass firmly, spreading me wider, giving him full access to devour me.

His tongue teases my entrance, flicking and dipping inside, making my body twitch and ache for more. My hips start to move on their own, thrusting slightly, begging for him to go deeper.

Without warning, he flips me onto my back, positioning me for a better view. His hands grasp my thighs, and with quick precision, he pulls me to the edge of the bed. Dropping to his knees, he toys with my clit, his fingers circling and pressing before diving back between my legs, tongue working with unrelenting fervor.

“Now this, princess,” he murmurs between kisses and licks, his voice dripping with satisfaction, “I’d eat for breakfast, lunch, and dinner for the rest of my life.”

His words push me closer to the edge, my climax approaching rapidly as my legs begin to tremble. His grip tightens on me, holding me in place, preventing me from pulling away from his relentless mouth. My body shudders suddenly as the wave of relief I’ve been craving washes over me.

My fingers tangle in his hair, pulling him closer as I grind against his mouth, riding out every pulse of my orgasm, my breaths coming in ragged gasps.

I feel my arousal spill into his mouth as he greedily licks and sucks, not letting a single drop go to waste. He stands, his eyes dark and filled with hunger, leaning in to kiss me. The taste of my release lingers on his lips, and I moan softly, lost in the sensation.

His hard cock presses against my core, grinding against me with desperate need, and I instinctively move my hips, craving to feel him inside me. His kiss grows rough and possessive, his hand sliding down from my neck to my breasts. He pinches one of my nipples, sending a jolt of pleasure through me and drawing a gasp that he swallows into the kiss, his grin wicked and satisfied.

“If my needy princess wants something, she has to ask for it,” he whispers, his lips parting from mine with a teasing grin, his breath warm against my ear.

His hand slides down to my clit, his fingers circling and flicking, sending jolts of pleasure through my body. My breath hitches, and a soft moan escapes my lips, my mind struggling to process his words.

“Use your words, princess. Tell me what you want,” he growls, his voice firm yet tantalizing, his fingers working me into a frenzy.

“Fuck me, please,” I murmur, my voice trembling as the heat builds in my core, every nerve in my body begging for him.

“Say that again, princess,” he demands, his tone dripping with playful dominance. “A little louder for me.”

“Fuck! I need you to fuck me—to feel you inside me. Please!” The frustration and raw need are evident in my voice, my body aching for him to claim me.

“That’s my good little slut,” he murmurs, satisfaction clear in his tone. He adjusts himself at my entrance, teasing me for a moment before slowly sliding inside, letting me adjust to his size. The stretch is overwhelming, and my fingers instinctively trail down his back, nails digging in and leaving marks. He jolts forward at the sensation, filling me deeper and making my head fall back, my back arching as I gasp at the sudden invasion.

He growls into my neck, leaving a trail of kisses and soft bites as he begins to move, his thrusts slow and deliberate at first. The rhythm shifts, his chest lifting from mine, giving him a full view of my bare body beneath him. One hand slides to my stomach, pressing down lightly as he picks up speed, fucking me harder and faster, his thrusts deep and commanding.

“That’s it, princess,” he growls, his voice raw with pleasure. “Fuck, you’re so tight. Let me stretch you just enough to make your pussy become a ring on my cock.” His hips slam into mine with a hunger that matches my own, the sound of our skin meeting echoing through the room.

As his thrusts grow more desperate, his hand reaches for the vibrating tongue toy on the nightstand. Without missing a beat, he presses it against my clit, the sudden overload of sensation making me throw my head back, a loud moan of his name escaping my lips as my hands clutch the sheets for dear life.

A wicked glint of satisfaction flashes across Lando’s face, his grin smug and proud. He leans in close, his lips brushing against my ear as he whispers, “Princess, as much as your moans are music to my ears, we can’t have your friends interrupting us right now—or finding out that their sweet little friend is such a good slut for the guy next door.”

Before I can respond, he grabs my black lace panties by the bed—the ones I’d removed during my earlier “show”—and gently pushes them into my mouth, muffling my cries of ecstasy as he continues to claim me.

My pussy clenches and twitches around his cock as his thrusts grow wetter, the sound of our movements filling the room. My orgasm teeters on the edge, his cum seeping into me, intensifying the sensation.

His growls and moans grow deeper and more primal. “Fuck, princess, you must be close,” he murmurs, his face satisfied as he watches my trembling legs and the euphoria written all over my face.

My muffled cries escape past the panties still in my mouth, vibrating softly in the heated air. “Cum for me, princess,” Lando commands, thrusting into me twice more. His words send me hurtling into my second orgasm of the night, my body convulsing around him as waves of pleasure consume me.

Lando’s thrusts grow sloppy, his grip on my waist tightening as he buries himself deep inside me. My pussy milks every last drop of his release, the warmth of his cum splashing against my inner walls. With a low growl, he slides out of me, both of our arousals dripping down my thighs and pooling onto the mattress.

He steps back, his eyes lighting up as he takes in the sight of my used, naked body, glistening and dripping with his cum. Slowly, his gaze traces every inch of me, savoring the evidence of what we’d just done.

“You know,” he says, his voice still thick with lust, “I might want this view every hour of the day from now on.” His tone is intoxicating, and he steps closer, gently removing the panties from my mouth before placing a soft kiss on my lips. “What do you think? You agree?” His smirk deepens, a dimple just beginning to peek through.

“I think that can be arranged,” I reply, wrapping my arms around his neck, a cheeky smile spreading across my face.

“Perfect,” he says, brushing his lips along my skin in a trail of butterfly kisses. “Let me start a shower for you, and then you can get some rest.” His voice is softer now, but still filled with care.

As he moves toward the bathroom, I pull myself up onto shaky feet, my body sore in all the best ways. Each ache is a reminder of every moment we’d just shared. I follow him, leaning on the sink in front of the mirror, catching a glimpse of my reflection—flushed, satisfied, and completely undone. The sensation of his cum still seeping out of me draws my attention, and I can’t help but slide a finger down to catch a drop, bringing it to my lips. I shut my eyes, savoring the taste.

Fuck, I need more.

Lando calls to me, his voice echoing softly under the sound of the shower. I walk toward him, wrapping my arms around his neck as he turns to face me. Pulling him into a sensual kiss, I whisper against his lips, “Are you up for a round two?” A glimmer of mischief dances in my eyes.

Lando grins at my request, his hands sliding down to rest on my hips. Leaning close, he murmurs under the steam of the shower, “I could never deny you a request like that, princess.”

The End

#lando norris #lando x reader #ln4 #lando norris smut #lando norris x reader #lando smut #lando norris imagine #lando norris fanfic #formula 1 #mclaren f1 #mclaren #lando norris fluff #f1 #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 fic #max fewtrell

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tongue-like-a-razor · 1 year ago

Text

Ex Appeal

Jake "Hangman" Seresin x F!Reader

Summary: Jake Seresin gets a frightful visitor on Halloween.

CW: Angst, fluff, suggestive themes, alludes to past cheating

WC: 3500+

This fic was written for @roosterforme’s Rocktober challenge! Inspired by the song Poison by Alice Cooper.

Masterlist

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Jake says with a look of disgust – as much of it as he can muster. You, after all, have been his greatest source of misery as of late.

You give him a dirty look – your specialty – and barge into his home as though you own the place and Jake’s just a goddamn doorman. “I need to lay low for a bit.”

Jake narrows his eyes as he turns to face you. He keeps the door open because he’s still hoping you’re going to leave any minute. “Lay low?” he asks mockingly. “What’d you do? Commit murder?” He wouldn’t be surprised.

You peek around his arm to glance out at the street. “Someone’s looking for me.”

Jake watches you impassively. “Is it the police?” Then, after a moment, he adds, “Is there a reward?”

You roll your eyes. “You’re the only one in this neighbourhood that I trust,” you say, pushing on the door that Jake is obstinately keeping open.

Jake nods. “Shame that trust doesn’t go both ways,” he comments contemptuously.

You eye him irritably. “Close the door.”

“Tell me why you’re here.”

“I just did.”

Jake shakes his head. “You could not have been more vague.”

You sigh. “Close the door and I’ll tell you.”

Jake exhales warily and shuts the front door. He surveys your outfit. “What are you wearing?”

You glance down at your ensemble: a black, form-fitting body suit and fishnet stockings. You’re also sporting knee-high boots and you’ve got what looks like six extra arms coming out of your back. You look back up at him with an annoyed expression on your face. “It’s Halloween,” you snap defensively.

Jake grimaces. “Yeah, I know.” He gestures to a cauldron full of candy sitting near the front door. “There’s gonna be a fuck-tonne of children coming through here trick-or-treating in like half an hour and you’re dressed like a gothic porn star.”

Instead of being offended, you lift your eyebrows in surprise. “You’re handing out candy?”

Jake sighs and places his hands on his hips, fixing you with a stern look. “Yeah, I’m handing out candy. That’s what adults do on Halloween.”

You stare at him as a smile materializes on your face. “Is that your costume?” you ask facetiously, gesturing at his checkered polo shirt. “Adult?”

Jake squares his jaw to mask the fact that he found your joke humorous, but you seem to notice the shift in his features because your own grin broadens. “My mom got me this shirt,” he says.

“Ah,” you respond. “A fellow adult.”

Jake tears his gaze away from you, focusing instead on the shiny, pointed toes of your stilettos. “Why’re you here?” he asks again, this time a lot less peevishly and a lot more grimly.

You bend down to unzip your boots. “I’m a spider,” you say. “Black widow.”

Jake glances up to meet your gaze as you straighten up. He nods. “Suits you.”

You give him a flat look. “I was at the bus stop and some dude started harassing me.”

Jake’s eyes trail down your scantily glad body. “You don’t say,” he remarks sarcastically.

Your jaw drops in outrage. “Are you victim blaming?”

Jake chuckles and shakes his head. “It was a joke.”

You cringe. “It was in poor taste.”

Jake closes his eyes and lets out a tired sigh. He’s had about enough of your attitude. “You wanna talk about poor taste?” he asks. “Where’s that lovely boyfriend of yours?”

You watch him sourly. “We’re not together anymore, if you must know,” you reply.

Truth be told, Jake probably didn’t need to know. But, now that he does, it’s only fitting that he respond with, “Shocking.”

You give him the finger. As if he were the one who’d been dating two people at the same time.

There’s a knock on the door. “Fuck,” he mutters, giving you a moody look. “Hide,” he says. “Unless you’d rather traumatize a bunch of eight-year-olds.”

You grimace at him. “You think eight-year-olds haven’t seen worse?”

Jake scans the low-cut neckline of your costume. He can’t think of anything more erotic if he tried. But, if he’s being honest, it’s not the outfit so much as your insane body that’s the culprit. He reaches out to grab your hand and pull you aside, making sure you’re tucked safely behind the door before opening it.

He smiles down at the two little kids on his porch when they yell, “TRICK-OR-TREAT!” at the top of their lungs.

“Well, well, well,” he says cheerily, bending down to grab a handful of candy out of his cauldron. “Who do we have here?” He puts the candy into one of their bags. “Are you a mermaid?”

The girl nods happily.

Jake wows in amazement. “You’re the prettiest mermaid I’ve ever seen!” He bends down to grab another handful of candy and drops it into the second child’s bag. “And you must be Iron Man!” he exclaims. “That’s one cool costume, bud. You look great!”

When Jake finally closes the door and looks at you, he sees that you’ve got your arms folded over your chest and a giant smirk on your face.

“What?” he asks darkly.

Your smile widens. “That was cute.”

Jake takes a step from the door and looks away from you. He’s not about to get sucked back into your web of lies, no pun intended. “You wanna hand some out?” he asks.

“I thought you don’t want me traumatizing the children,” you respond sarcastically, stepping out of the corner toward him.

Jake glances at you with a small smile. “I can give you some clothes, if you like.”

You wiggle your eyebrows. “Adult clothes?”

Jake rolls his eyes. “Come on, before more kids show up.”

He makes his way into his bedroom and grabs a pair of jogging pants and t-shirt and brings them back out for you. “Bathroom’s down the hall,” he says.

“I remember,” you respond, but you’ve already started to remove your bodysuit.

Jake turns away in alarm and holds out the clothes for you. “Do you?”

“Come on, it’s not like you haven’t seen it all before,” you say. “Shoot, I’m not wearing any underwear.”

Jake groans. “Are you for fucking real?”

“You got a pair of boxers?”

Jake swallows uncomfortably. “Hold this,” he instructs, keeping a hand over his eyes as he hands you the crumpled clothes and starts back for his bedroom.

“You know what? I’ll just go commando.”

Jake takes a deep, cleansing breath and turns back toward you. He keeps his eyes closed and holds a hand out so as not to bump into anything as he walks. Of course, as luck would have it, he stumbles into you.

“What the fuck, dude?” you exclaim as his hands cling to your naked body, steadying you so you don’t fall over.

Jake squeezes his eyes tightly so that they don’t open inadvertently. “Sorry, sorry!” he winces, finally stabilizing both himself and you. He feels the softness of your skin underneath his palms as his hands do a final sweep along your back before he lifts them away from your body with a grimace. He’s bracing himself for a punch in the face.

“Are you a dumbass? Open your eyes!” you screech. “You’ve seen me naked how many times?!”

“Twelve,” he responds, a little hoarsely. All he can think about is how smooth your skin felt in his hands not a moment ago and it’s driving him a little mad.

“It was a rhetorical question,” you say pointedly. “You counted?”

“Are you decent yet?” he asks, clearing his throat.

“I’m never decent,” you mutter under your breath and Jake can’t help but smirk. “But if you’re asking whether or not I’m dressed. Then, yes, I am.”

Jake releases a heavy sigh and opens his eyes cautiously.

You scowl at him. “What, you think I’m tricking you?”

“Well, you aren’t treating me.”

You stare at him coolly. “You’re such a delight. Can’t imagine why we ever broke up.”

“Need a reminder?” he calls as you make your way back into the front hall. “It’s because you cheated on me!”

You’re standing at the front door with your arms crossed. “I didn’t cheat, for the last time,” you retort. “We weren’t exclusive.”

Jake presses his lips into a thin line. “I was exclusive.”

You shake your head in frustration. “Let’s just agree to disagree.”

“Fine.”

“Great.”

There’s another knock on the door. You sigh irritably and reach for the doorknob.

“Hello!” you exclaim enthusiastically the moment the door is open.

The mob of children on Jake’s doorstep all look up at you with exuberant grins and yell their opening line in a loud, messy chorus.

You react with an animated gasp. “Oh my goodness! You guys are a frightful bunch!”

The kids laugh. Indeed, they’re dressed as zombies, ghosts, and vampires, and, when you comment on their appearance, they growl and make scary faces at you. Jake smiles at them and then at you as you distribute the candy from the cauldron excitedly.

Once the door is closed, however, you drop the act, giving him an icy look as you settle yourself on the little bench near the door.

Jake fights the urge to sit next to you and maybe get a little lost in the smell of your perfume. He still gets a whiff of it from time to time when he walks by his closet. Which reminds him –

“I have your sweater,” he says awkwardly.

You glance up at him coldly. “Well, why didn’t you give it to me? It’d probably look better than this.” You tug on the hem of the t-shirt he gave you.

Jake doubts it; the fact that he could see your nipples through the fabric of his own shirt is even more of a turn on than your low-cut bodysuit had been. But he responds with, “Probably. But I’m not about to let you change again.”

You snort. “Fair.”

Jake wonders just how detrimental sitting next to you might be to his personal journey of recovery. He figures that you also would prefer that he stay as far away from you as possible. Ultimately, however, he decides that it’s his bench, after all, and that he’ll be sharing it with you and not the other way around. And, with regard to getting over you, well, he can try again tomorrow.

Jake makes his way over to the bench and you eye him cautiously as he approaches. Silently, you slide to make room for him. He gulps nervously and lowers himself onto the seat beside you.

“What were you doing at the bus stop, anyway?” he asks, staring down at his own clasped hands because he can’t handle looking at you when you’re sitting so close.

“Frank and I were on our way to a party,” you respond sullenly.

Jake glances up at you despite himself. “Thought you two broke up.”

You meet his gaze and promptly look away – apparently, you’re not too keen on engaging in eye contact at this proximity either. “We did,” you say curtly. “About an hour ago.”

Jake raises his eyebrows. “An hour ago?”

“We had a fight on the way. I hopped out of the car at a red light.”

Jake leaps out of his seat. “Are you crazy?” he exclaims. “Do you have any idea how dangerous that is?”

You give him an amused look. “Don’t you fly jets for a living?”

Jake gapes at you incredulously. “I trained for that,” he retorts.

You let out a small laugh. “You’re right,” you reply. “I should’ve practiced first.”

Jake draws a hand over his mouth. “Okay, so you got out of the car in the middle of traffic,” he says with a wince. “And he, what? Just let you go?”

You shrug. “Wouldn’t you?”

Jake raises his eyebrows. “In what you were wearing? I wouldn’t even let you go to the bathroom by yourself.”

You stare at him with a grin. “That’s a bit excessive.”

“Yeah?” he asks. “How many guys made passes at you before you finally decided that taking the bus home wasn’t the brightest idea?”

You lower your gaze without responding.

“As if that douchebag just left you,” Jake says angrily.

“Well, I wasn’t being very nice.”

“There’s a surprise.”

You eye him dangerously.

“You could’ve gotten hurt,” Jake says. “This isn’t the safest neighbourhood.”

You suck in your cheeks and nod. “Yeah, I was pretty freaked out actually,” you admit. “There was a group of guys following me and they kept making lewd comments. When I got to the bus stop, they sort of surrounded me…”

You trail off and Jake’s hands curls into fists of their own volition. “I could kill your boyfriend.”

“Ex,” you remind him.

“Whatever,” he says. After a moment, he asks, “Are you okay?”

You nod. “I pretended to call someone – you actually,” you say with a laugh. “I had a whole fake conversation with you on my way over. They lost interest in me after a little while and took off.”

He watches you solemnly. “You could’ve actually called me,” he says.

Your face turns skeptical. “Right. And you’d pick up?”

Probably not. “Of course,” he responds. Then he sighs and shakes his head. “Maybe I wouldn’t.”

“It’s fine,” you say. “I wouldn’t blame you.”

Jake sighs and sits back down beside you.

Several more groups of trick-or-treaters come and go and you and him take turns answering the door. Occasionally, both of you jump up at the same time and end up oohing and aahing in unison at the various costumes that grace Jake’s doorstep.

This activity does little to help quell the feelings he’s tried for months to repress. He remembers grudgingly the night he told you he was falling for you and you telling him that you weren’t ready for that kind of commitment. That’s when he found out that he wasn’t the only one you’d been seeing.

In your defense, it’s not something you had been actively hiding. In fact, you probably thought that Jake was also sleeping around, given his reputation. But Jake caught feelings like an idiot and was heartbroken when you finally showed your cards.

He spent nearly a year convincing himself that you’re absolute scum. Yet, here you are, looking cute as a button in his joggers and t-shirt, laughing giddily at the neighborhood children like you’re some kind of sweetheart. Like you could fool him now.

Jake slumps back down on the bench, trying to interact with you as little as possible. He can sense that you’re starting to win him over again, and he can’t have that happen. He will not be seduced.

You sit beside him with a grand sigh and lean your head back against the wall. “You get a lot of kids here,” you say lightly.

“Mm-hm,” he hums, bending forward to rest his arms on his legs.

“I’m getting hungry,” you say. “You?”

Jake closes his eyes. The last thing he needs is a fucking dinner date with you. “There are some leftovers in the fridge. You can go heat some up for yourself.”

You lay a hand on his back and Jake goes rigid. “You’re not going to eat?” you ask.

“Not hungry,” he manages to say.

Your hand slides unhurriedly down his spine, your fingers grazing him delicately. Jake brings a fist to his mouth to suppress a moan. “I’ll wait, then,” you say softly. Then, before Jake can gather the strength to remove himself from the situation, you lean your body into his and rest your head on his shoulder.

Jake sits very still, trying to decide how best to navigate this turn of events.

“Do you ever miss me?” you murmur faintly.

Jake turns his head to look down at your face while his heart springs into his throat to constrict his breathing. “What are you doing?” he asks huskily.

Your eyes stare deeply into his. “I’m just wondering,” you whisper.

Jake sighs and rubs his forehead. “You just broke up with Frank.”

Your eyes start to fill with tears. “I miss you.”

“Fuck,” Jake mutters and straightens his back. His head drops like a deadweight against the drywall in behind.

You’re displaced in the process but, once he’s situated, you slowly move closer, until your head is resting over his chest.

Jake grits his teeth but wraps his arm around you and, in response, you lay your arm over his abdomen. He can feel your fingers twist into the fabric of his shirt. He tightens his embrace around your shoulders and curses some more, in silence this time. What is it about you that he just can’t resist?

You lift your head off his chest so you can be face to face with him. Jake tries very hard not to lock eyes with you because that would likely be the end of him. “Jake,” you say in a wispy sort of tone and Jake instantly loses that fight. He meets your gaze, and your eyes entrance him. “I want you to kiss me,” you breathe.

Jake can almost taste the citrus of your perfume; it hangs over you like a veil. He can already hear your melodic moans; he knows what you sound like when he touches you. He can feel the rise and fall of your chest, the ardent urging of your hands as they slip underneath his shirt.

But what he can’t do is kiss you.

Your lips… your lips are all he can think about. He wants you more than anything in the world but you’re not here the same way he’s here; you’re just passing through while he’s here to stay.

You come impossibly close, aching for just a split second of contact. “Don’t you want to?” you whisper.

Jake can hardly stand being this close to you. “Why are you doing this?” he asks in a low, uneven voice.

You gulp and the tip of your nose brushes his. “I want to be with you, Jake,” you whimper, your fingers digging persistently into his ribs. Your travelling hands ignite a chain of pyrotechnics under his skin that sort of set his entire chest ablaze. “Don’t you want that?”

If only you knew how much. He shakes his head, cupping your cheek in his hand. “How can that be? When you’ve only been single for an hour?”

Your eyes start to sparkle. “You don’t believe me?”

He’ll never believe a word you say. But that doesn’t make him want you any less. He catches the tears that stream down your face with his thumb.

“I never got over you, Jake,” you say, clasping your hand over his on your cheek. “I think about you all the time.”

Jake leans his head into yours and grips your hand in his. If you’re telling the truth, he sympathizes. But, more likely than not, every word coming out of your mouth is fiction.

You push him away and sit up straight, wiping at your tears. “I never meant to hurt you,” you say. “I made a mistake. I realized that the moment you left. And I was too proud to go after you.”

Jake grimaces. “So, you dated Frank for ten months?”

You shrug. “On and off. He cheated on me, so…” you trail off with a cynical laugh. “Got what I deserved.”

Jake furrows his brows. “You don’t deserve that.”

You glance up at him with renewed hope. “I don’t deserve you,” you say with a strangled sigh. “I know that. And you know that, obviously. Which is why you won’t kiss me.”

Jake shakes his head.

“I know that it’s long over, Jake. I’m not delusional,” you say, your eyes so penetrating it feels like they’re clawing right into his soul. “And, I swear, I did not come here for this. It’s just, seeing you again – and your fucking disgustingly adorable adult shirt – handing out candy like a well-adjusted member of society – it reminded me what I missed out on.”

Jake lifts his eyebrows. “A lame, costume-less, party-less Halloween?”

You smile. “It’s not lame. It’s perfect.”

Jake watches you wretchedly. You may look innocent sitting before him in his very own baggy joggers and t-shirt with your dizzyingly beautiful eyes. But you are a fucking black widow. With a venomous bite. And sweet lips that spew lies, webs of which he could never untangle. Poison on the tongue. Toxic to the bone. Fatal. “You’re perfect,” he says.

You gaze at him tenderly, waiting for your moment to strike. Jake is waiting too. There’s no use fighting it, he lost the moment he met you. And he’ll lose as many times as it will take to win you for good.

Hangman Tag List:

A/N: The rest of the list will be in the comments. Let me know if you don't want to be tagged anymore.

@atarmychick007

@callsign-sunshine

@shanimallina87

@wkndwlff

@thefandomimagines

@lunamoonbby

@xoxabs88xox

@Elenavampire21

@desert-fern

@averyhotchner

@Topguncultleader

@teacupsandtopgun

@lilyevanswhore

@sarcasm-n-insomnia

@avengers-fixation

@malindacath

@maddievevo

@widemiffyhappy

@dempy

@djs8891

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@phoenix1388

@teaminator

@rascallyrascals

@kmc1989

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@hangmanscoming

@topgun-imagines

@thedroneranger

@joaquinwhorres

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@lynnevanss

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@scenesofobx

@hallecarey1

@rrocky0ah

@ekeel2016

@imnotcreativeenoughforthisblog

@maeleeme

@mamachasesmayhem

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hayatoseyepatch · 2 months ago

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𝕯𝖊𝖘𝖈𝖗𝖎𝖕𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓: Hoshina knew better than to get romantically involved with a subordinate, but he sees you in a different light, the object of his desires.

𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖗𝖆𝖈𝖙𝖊𝖗: Soshiro Hoshina (Kaiju No. 8)

𝖂𝖔𝖗𝖉 𝕮𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖙: 1.4 k

𝕮𝖔𝖓𝖙𝖆𝖎𝖓𝖘: Soshiro Hoshina x Fem!Reader. (SMUT). 𝖈𝖜: oral (fem receiving), minor impact play, dirty talk, praise, degradation, fingering.

𝕬𝖚𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖗’𝖘 𝕹𝖔𝖙𝖊: This is a very late submission for the pixel-cafe's "Challenge Friday", and this challenge was music-themed! *ahem* shameless plug just in case anyone was thinking of joining. *ahem*. I had so much fun with this, I lucked out with one of my favorite songs from one of my favorite artists. So naturally I had to use it to try out a new character from a new fandom I'm so in love with him someone save me. Anywhosies, I hope you enjoy! (ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ.ﾟ

𝕾𝖍𝖊’𝖘 𝖓𝖔𝖙 𝖆𝖈𝖎𝖉 𝖓𝖔𝖗 𝖆𝖑𝖐𝖆𝖑𝖎𝖓𝖊, 𝖈𝖆𝖚𝖌𝖍𝖙 𝖇𝖊𝖙𝖜𝖊𝖊𝖓 𝖇𝖑𝖆𝖈𝖐 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖜𝖍𝖎𝖙𝖊. 𝕹𝖔𝖙 𝖖𝖚𝖎𝖙𝖊 𝖊𝖎𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖗 𝖉𝖆𝖞 𝖔𝖗 𝖓𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙, 𝖘𝖍𝖊,𝖘 𝖕𝖊𝖗𝖋𝖊𝖈𝖙𝖑𝖞 𝖒𝖎𝖘𝖆𝖑𝖎𝖌𝖓𝖊𝖉.

He knew he shouldn’t, knew that in this line of work romance should be off the table. Knew that at any moment either of you could killed in the line of duty. Feelings in your profession were thoughtless, illogical, and just downright stupid. Why would he put his heart into someone he could lose at any moment? Why would he jeopardize your heart in the event he was the one to meet his end. The idea of losing you alone already had a painful pinch blossoming in his chest, he knew he should stop this, but even he knew it was too late. Knew you both were long past the point, even if a heartbreak was temporary, you both cared for each other too much. Even if separated you both cared for each other too much to not be shattered by the loss of the other.

But those thoughts are quickly shoved to the wayside, thoughts like that had no room in his head, not when he felt your body on his. Not when the both of you snuck out of your rooms in the dead of night. Not when he shut the door to the library with your back, his mouth finding yours hungrily in a desperate kiss. And certainly not when he let out an arms to swipe the contents of a table, uncaring of the clatter of books falling to the ground. Pushing you to lay against the cool wood, hiking your thighs around his waist.

“So fucking beautiful.” His words are muffled against your lips, breathless, barely getting them out before he's claiming your lips once more. The kiss was a mess of tongues and clashing teeth, the both of you unfathomably filled with need. A magnetic pull drew you to each other, unable to be separated until you were both satiated. His lips trailed down the side of your face to your neck. Open-mouthed kisses left in their wake, sharp canines finally sinking into your tender flesh. He hadn’t realized how hard he had bitten down, not until the metallic taste filled his taste buds. His wet muscle swiping against your skin, a tender kiss almost an apology against the afflicted area. But he couldn’t deny the knowledge that he had left his mark on you didn’t send blood rushing to his cock. The thought of anyone who was suspicious that you were taken would now have confirmation.

“Fuck kitten, I need you.” His own voice sounded foreign to his own ears, the need-filled husk making it sound octaves deeper. Hands tugged desperately at each other’s clothing, the overwhelming need to feel each others skin was all-consuming. He needed a taste of you, his mouth going dry with the need to taste you on his tongue. He was grateful you had forgone sleep pants, clad only in an oversized tshirt, one that made it oh so easy to slide your panties down your thighs. He gripped the damp material, unable to stop himself from pressing the fabric to his nose. Eyes locked on yours as he inhaled, relishing in the way you looked away from him in embarrassment, your cheeks darkening with a flush. He lets out a long drawn-out sigh, pocketing the article of clothing for later. “God, kitten, smell so fucking good. Let's see if you taste even better yeah?”

His hand trails down your body, long fingers sliding between your folds, collecting your arousal. His lips leave yours, parting only to whisper “You’re this wet already? Is this for me, kitten?” He purrs needing to hear you say it. His eyes nearly roll back in his head as a delicious whine fills his ears. “Its for you Shiro, all for you.” Those words pull a malicious smirk onto his features, his other hand coming down against the plush skin of your ass in a harsh slap, his lips swallowing the gasp you let slip at the impact. Seizing this opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth once more.

𝕴’𝖒 𝖈𝖆𝖚𝖌𝖍𝖙 𝖚𝖕 𝖎𝖓 𝖍𝖊𝖗 𝖉𝖊𝖘𝖎𝖌𝖓 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖍𝖔𝖜 𝖎𝖙 𝖈𝖔𝖓𝖓𝖊𝖈𝖙𝖘 𝖙𝖔 𝖒𝖎𝖓𝖊. 𝕴 𝖘𝖊𝖊 𝖎𝖓 𝖆 𝖉𝖎𝖋𝖋𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖓𝖙 𝖑𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙, 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖔𝖇𝖏𝖊𝖈𝖙𝖘 𝖔𝖋 𝖒𝖞 𝖉𝖊𝖘𝖎𝖗𝖊.

His fingers glided against your clit, easily with the aid of your own slick arousal, rubbing tight circles before letting a finger slip past your entrance. Your warm velvety walls sucking in his finger, hugging the digit as if begging for more. He slides in another finger with ease, pulling from the kiss as he dropped to his knees before you. His eyes locked to where his fingers disappeared inside you, his heart racing in his chest. He leans back, admiring you being so exposed for him, hand pulling his fingers from your core, rearing back to slap your exposed cunt. You cry out, pain immediately being replaced with pleasure as he dives down, burying this face into your folds.

His nose bumps your clit as his tongue invades your entrance, curling inside you. He collects your juices on the wet muscle, withdrawing from inside you he pushes himself up. Tongue lolling out of his mouth, allowing your juices, mixed with his own saliva, to drip down on your neglected clit. You whine, the warmth contrasting to the cold of the room. You’re shaking, trying to hold the position he’s placed you in. “Shiro, please!” You cry, not even sure what you’re begging for at this point. “What does my pretty kitten need, hmm?” he hums, lips curled into a malicious smirk “You know you need to use your words and ask your vice captain how he can service you angel.”

“Please Shiro need more, fingers, please fuck me with your fingers vice captain!” You cried out, voice laced with desperation, hips wiggling wantonly in search of any kind of friction to your throbbing clit. He grinned, pulling away to bite harshly on your thigh, his title moaned from your lips did something to him. “Now how could I say no to such a pretty request?” He coos before plunging two fingers back inside your cunt. His lips attach themselves to your clit, lapping at the sensitive bud, nipping occasionally as he eats your pussy with a deep seeded hunger. The way your walls clamped down on his fingers as they pumped inside of you let him know you were reaching your first orgasm of the evening. He curls the digits, focusing on that spongey spot that has your vision going white. His words spoken against your pussy as he speaks. “Go on kitten, cum for me, cum for your vice captain.”

His words are the anchor that sent you plummeting to your release, the coil tightening in the depths of your stomach, moments from snapping. “Shiro, please, fuck fuck fuck!” You can feel his lips curl into a grin against you, other hand coming up to pin your hips to the cool wood of the table. His fingers work in tandem with his tongue, the cold of his fingers perfectly contrasting with the warmth of his mouth. You were thrown over the edge, walls suffocating his digits as they spasmed around his fingers. Your hips bucking desperately against his face as you rode out your orgasm.

Coming down from your high, you catch your breath, your chest rising and falling heavily as he stands to his feet. Hoshina slips his fingers from inside of you, cradling your still-shaking form to his chest, running his fingers through your hair in a soothing gesture. Only to lean down, lips brushing the shell of your ear to whisper. “Well now that we’ve gotten our warmup all done, you ready for the main event kitten?” the fingers of his free hand deftly freeing his cock from the confines of his pants. Quick to rub the head of his cock against your clit a few times before moving down to probe your entrance. Sure, rational thought would tell him that getting involved with you was a mistake. But, as he watched you writhe beneath him, looking up at him desperately through your lashes he couldn’t determine if you were born in hell or heaven-sent, but either way he was into it.

Dividers by @/cafekitsune. Character banner and writing by me. Tagging @pixelcafe-network.

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smakonca · 4 months ago

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Finally! After two months of work I finished my Nightkiller animation.

youtube

As you can probably guess they were my favourite ship for a great while now. And I felt the urge to create a little something for them 'cause my interpretation of them both as characters and as a ship differs from their canon versions. Aaaaand I absolutely love this song.

So yeah! Please enjoy and reblog if you like it! I put a lot of blood 'n tears into this.

Credits:

Killer belongs to rahafwabas

Nightmare belongs to Jokublog

Song: Нина by OQJAV

The story:

As we all know, Nightmare was in need of a henchman, so he went to Killer's AU to recruit him. This was the main reason, right?

But why was Nightmare interested particularly in Killer? There are plenty of Au's to find subordinates or slaves. Why of all people or monsters was he the one to catch the king's attention?

Even Nightmare himself does not know. Or maybe he knows. But some things are better when left unspoken.

He was fully aware of what happened in Killertale and knew about the horrors and suffering Killer had to go through. He wasn't perfect. Nor was he the easiest to manipulate.

But then again... Why? Was it a simple interest? The loneliness that followed him throughout the centuries? The need for negativity? Or something else?

Perhaps something even Nightmare won't ever admit.

A little spark of sympathy.

After killing everyone in his AU countless times, Killer realized there's nothing left of him. Nothing that would really hold him to his world anymore. He made a deal with a human so as to feel "something new" only to find himself bored again.

Not only that but he also crossed the line of his morals, betraying everyone he once cared about. Until even their departure meant nothing. He survived through the loss, the pain, the blood on his hands...

And here he sits. In his once favorite bar. With a glass in his hands. Feeling nothing. Nothing, except for boredom.

Then suddenly… he appeared.

And he walked in.

Without a greeting or a proper introduction. Demanding for a drink.

His entire silhouette screamed that he was dangerous. Dangerous, yet graceful.

Dark emerald bones, a giant coat and four strange appendages behind his back, resembling tentacles.

Nightmare was always the one to leave an impression after himself. But this time, however, he didn't go straight to the point.

He wanted to know whether Killer was worthy of his offer.

So Nightmare made a joke. A bad one, indeed. Mocking the Killer with the loss of once his dearest friend and bartender. Grillby.

But Killer surprised him.

Instead of panicking, asking questions or going for Nightmare's throat for such arrogance, he didn't even flinch.

Instead he smiled. With a twinkle in his black eye sockets. And poured him a drink. As Nightmare demanded.

Killer felt a slight cold when the stranger sat near him.

Something was telling him not to trust, not to listen. Not to even look at him.

But there was no one to talk to anymore. There was no one alive anymore.

Except him. An enigmatic stranger.

He said he was a traveler. A seeker. For the lost and forsaken by fate.

They talked for a little. Killer wouldn't remember the theme of the conversation, even if he tried.

But Nightmare... He never forgot. And never will.

As Killer will never forget the moment the mystic stranger offered him a hand. And an opportunity to leave this place. Once and forever.

An opportunity to feel something new.

Killer knew it wasn't a sane thing to do. But there was something about a person sitting right next to him.

Was it his inscrutable and sly smile? Was it a strange sense of pain and cold, which followed him as a perfume? Or was it a strange resemblance of Killer's own appearance?

However, Killer knew for sure that his conversationalist made him feel something he did not feel for a very long time. Or maybe he forgot how to.

A pure curiosity.

He looked in Nightmare's azure eye yet again. And he spotted a little spark too. As he was waiting for Killer's decision.

He hesitated a little before finally accepting the offer.

Killer felt the tentacles envelop him, as the world itself disappeared before his eyes.

In a slight panic he looked into the stranger's face. He let out a short laugh and finally told Killer his name.

The life of Nightmare's subordinate wasn't an easy one.

The king of negativity pulled the strings as he wanted to. Playing with Killer as he wanted to.

Poisoning him with his own hate and guilt.

And yet Killer stayed. He thought of this as a punishment. For everything he has done to his family and friends. He felt like he deserved it.

For a long time Killer despised Nightmare.

He went with him in an attempt to forget about his past. Only to be captured instead. Turned into a murderer, who enjoys hurting others, enjoys the suffering he brings.

Nightmare was alone for a very long time. So when Killer joined his company he did not know what to do with him for a great while.

He thrived on his subordinate's negative emotions. Destroying any memories about sympathy towards Killer he once felt .

He wanted to be seen as dangerous, unmerciful and bloodthirsty. Because that's what the world demanded him to be. Nightmare thought it was the only way to receive respect. The only way to be himself...

But times have changed. As did the relationship between these two. They became closer.

It's hard to deny that they both were lost, longing for someone to be by their side. Someone, who could understand them.

Nightmare unintentionally started opening up to Killer. Showing that there's a little more to him than just cruelty and arrogance.

They became fond of each other, but it still wasn't affection.

Nightmare did this out of boredom. After all, when you live for such a long time you tend to forget how mortals view their existence. You forget how to enjoy the world around you. Because in the end you're going to outlive even the time itself.

Killer did this mainly to find Nightmare's weak sides. In order to hurt him like he did. And finally be free.

And yet sometimes they felt peace while being in each other's company, becoming dependent on each other's existence in their lives.

It all changed suddenly when risking his own life Killer protected Nightmare during their mission.

And the king was confused.

Why did he do it? Why despite all the things Nightmare did to him he still stayed?

Was it dependence? A blind obedience?

Killer also did not know.

Part of him wanted to run from Nightmare, but part of him wanted to stay.

Maybe because he hoped for something better. For things to change. As Nightmare was the only one who made him feel something.

At that exact moment he felt like he had to protect.

This occasion led to Nightmare being interested in Killer's behavior towards him.

He decided that he wanted to play with him. To manipulate. To destroy him as a person. And see for himself, whether he will stay with Nightmare.

But it wasn't only that.

All his life Nightmare didn't receive anything but hate. He does not know how to show genuine affection towards someone. He does not know how to love... Or how to be loved.

That time when Killer valued Nightmare’s immortal life more than his own. That exact moment of pure determination. This is what made Nightmare question their relationship.

No longer was Killer a regular pawn. A tool in his useful hands. He was something more…

Nightmare felt like he started to worry about Killer when he went on missions. He sought for his company.

He started to show affection. And care. And he wanted to get rid of them immediately.

He wanted to be this immortal being without weaknesses. Without anyone dragging him down.

So Nightmare decided to "play cards" with Killer. A game for his own life.

Killer knew it from the start. He learned every little detail about his boss, realizing how scared Nightmare actually was. Scared of being alone and scared of truly caring about someone.

And behind all the masks Nightmare wore he managed to see the truth.

The king was lonely and lost. Pathetic even. Desperately wanting someone to care about him. Even his royal image couldn't hide it.

Killer thought the two could play this game.

After all, there was no victory for both of them. Nightmare knew Killer would lose to him anyway, but wasn't aware that his loss was inevitable too.

Since then both of them wanted to stay close. They never said it out loud. They perhaps never will. But they were busting with desire to be together.

Killer started first by offering Nightmare a rose. A red one. After all, red is a color of both blood and love. And roses are extremely beautiful. Even if they are full of thorns.

As Nightmare himself.

The king of negativity was baffled. How could he allow it? How could he start to care?

He tried to hide it. With the glass full of wine, which represents all his negative emotions. The poison. No one will ever want to drink.

Or... not?

And then he received the rose. Received Killer's offering to him. And accepted.

And also offered him a drink. As once Killer did. Finally allowing himself to be weak, to show affection.

They shared a moment of passion together.

Even though it hurt, even though it was painful, they managed to find peace for once.

Killer smiled at Nightmare, for the first time in a long while feeling happy.

Of course such positivity hurt Nightmare. Burned him like fire. But it was a fair price for an opportunity to be loved. To truly matter to someone.

And he smiled back. Sincerely and tenderly. Allowing himself to break the chains and love. Allowing someone to love him back.

Unfortunately, happiness doesn't last forever.

Nor does life.

Nightmare knew this day would come. He knew he was going to outlive Killer anyway. But he was trapped by his feelings, trapped by the sweet poison of love.

And he lost him. Killer turned into dust in his arms.

And while he was dying he cracked a little joke as Nightmare once did to him. Laughing in the face of death itself.

Nightmare was punished by fate itself once again. For his arrogance, for his cruelty. For looking down on life.

There's nothing in this world more painful than losing someone close to your heart.

And he lost Killer.

The only thing left of him was his jacket. And the rose, which soon wilted. Leaving Nightmare alone in his castle.

Until the end of time.

#undertale animation #utmv #killer sans #nightmare sans #nightmare x killer #nightkiller #killermare #sans au #sanscest #undertale au #my animation #youtube

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sstargirln · 5 days ago

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❞ ᝰ .ᐟ artrick x camgirl!reader

TW: masturbation — mutual and solo, swearing, sexual themes, MDNI

¡! ❞ IMPORTANT! a/n: fullll creds to (i think) @nottsangel for this idea im js soo obsessed w it . . . needed to write a little sumn of my own!

post that i saw first here!

patrick stumbled open one of your streams by full accident — as he scrolled through some random porn website, searching for something to get off to. he barely recognized you at first, sitting there in lace, staring straight into the camera with a vibrator to your covered pussy.

safe to say, patrick had a great jerk session that night.

and the next day, he went out to lunch with you, eyes darting down to your skirt like a little perv. like he was trying to picture what he'd already seen, spread on the screen.

art found out a couple days later when he'd innocently tried to check his emails on patrick's computer. only to be greeted by the cam site still up on the screen, a thumbnail of your face — eyes lidded, lips parted — filling the screen while the stream wasn't running.

patrick gave him a little shrug as art pointed it out, a churning feel in his gut. "just wait 'til she gets started. you'll be singing a different fucking song, i promise."

and he was, because once a little chime sounded from the laptop, indicating that the stream had started, his feet were already moving. stumbling off the bed and peering over patrick's shoulder at the desk.

"does she know? . . . that you know?"

"not yet. does she have to?"

it became a sort of weekly ritual—art making his way to patrick's dorm because he couldn’t bring himself to seek your streams out on his own.

they crowded around the computer, art's nail wedged into his mouth as they watched you, legs spread and clit swollen. they became your biggest fans — literally . . . donating hundreds to see you use the pink one, or the massive purple one. patricks family inheritance was quivering in its boots.

then, late one night, patrick couldn't take it anymore, and he slipped his puckering cock out, slowly stroking at it with small grunts. art followed, because the tension had built up enough already, c'mon! sure it was a little gay, to sit on patrick's bed, side-by-side, dicks in hand — but it wasn't like they were looking at eachother. their eyes barely moved from the screen, where you were gazing into the camera with wide eyes and your bottom lip in between your teeth.

"this feels wrong."

"shut up and watch, pussy."

¡! ❞ © niya-writesshit 2024

#❞ ᝰ .ᐟ camgirl! x artrick #art donaldson x reader #patrick zweig x reader #artrick #artrick x reader #challengers 2024 #art donaldson blurb #patrick zweig #patrick zweig blurb #art donaldson #¡! ❞ nina's writing

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trippinsorrows · 3 months ago

Text

without you + one

authors note: hi, friends! so this is a foundational first chapter, meaning its intended to lay down a blueprint. there may or may not be some foreshadowing.....

but let me just say this. i have no intentions on drastically changing anyone's characterization from book one. e.g. joe has always only had eyes for reader. that won't change. he's all about his family.

do not read this story if you haven't read 'with me'. it won't work as a standalone.

warnings: language, some angst, fluff, and suggestive themes

song inspo: be without you by mary j. blige

words: 5k

Two weeks.

It’s been two weeks since your life was forever changed in a night of pure magic.

Two weeks since the love of your life proposed to you in the most beautiful way in the most beautiful place on earth surrounded by the most beautiful people.

Just thinking about it still brings on chills and goosebumps. It might just be one of the happiest nights of your life.

And even returning home, being with your family, enjoying your pregnancy has continued on the theme of love and contentment.

It’s almost nearly perfect except for one little thing. One tiny little human you just so happened to have created who seems to think that she has first dibs on a certain fiancé of yours at any given point and time.

Callie has been loving every single second of Joe being home on indefinite leave, and while you’re happy for her, happy for him that they have the time to spend together, it’s like she wants to spend all of her time with Joe.

And that’s fine, except for the fact it’s like she doesn’t want you around at all.

They’re playing tea party and she hits you with the, “mommy, it’s for daddies only.”

He’s having her help him cook, and she hits you with, “mommy, you can’t cook.”

She’s suckered him into watching Moana with her for the 18th time, and she hits you with, “mommy, I wanna watch it with daddy.”

Sis is beyond possessive. It’s gotten to the point where you almost feel jealous of your own damn child. An absolutely asinine thing to think, let alone feel.

It’s why when Joe jogs down the steps after getting her down for her nap, you grab him by his shirt and yank him into the office.

He’s understandably confused. “Y/N, what the hell?”

You bring your finger to his mouth, silencing him. “Not so loud. You’ll wake her up.”

“And?”

Lord, Jesus. This may be harder than you thought. “And she needs her sleep, and we need time to talk.”

That seems to help him reason a bit better. “Okay.”

Pouting, you take him by surprise, shuffling into his chest as his arms naturally move around you. “I miss you.”

He chuckles, kissing the top of your head. “I’ve been here, baby.”

“You know what I mean.” Pulling back, he brushes his thumb across your bottom lip. “I miss spending time with you. Just the two of us.” Realizing how that could sound, you quickly clarify. “Don’t get me wrong, I love seeing you spend so much time with Callie, and obviously, she loves it too. But your lil’ bodyguard doesn’t seem to want mama to have any time alone with daddy.”

And it’s the truth. It fills your heart with so much joy to see the beautiful bond and relationship they’ve developed in not even a year. They’re inseparable.

But that doesn’t negate the fact that you miss spending time with him too.

“And we haven’t had sex since in over a week. A week, Joe. I can’t go that long without your dick. You know this.” He smiles, big hand laying on your baby bump. Like this shit is funny. Like it’s amusing that you’re going through dickdrawl. “That’s not funny, you asshole. If I have to make myself come one more time instead of you, I might just lose my shit.”

“I get it,” he finally shares, hand moving along the small of your back. “I miss you too. Miss my pussy…”

His voice drawls into something teasing, and it makes your pussy flutter. See, just his voice alone has you feening. Groaning, you mutter, while trying to settle yourself, “and it doesn’t help that she’s been sleeping with us.”

Calista is only four-years-old, so it’s natural for her to want to sleep with you and Joe. And you don’t mind that, don’t mind giving her that comfort. It’s just that it’s been every night since you returned from Disney. Not only that, when Joe gets up, she likes to get up. Even to the point where he'll just be working out in the gym, and she still wants to be around him, sitting on the floor talking to him or just playing on her tablet.

She’s even fallen asleep one time in the gym, with him having to stop his workout to bring her to her bed that she woke up from and managed to scamper her cute self right back into bed with you.

It’s just been…..a lot in some ways.

He nods, suddenly suggesting, “maybe we can try talking to her.”

“And what are we supposed to tell her, huh?” You’re legitimately all ears for any recommendations on how to word it. “Callie Bear, you’re spending too much time with your daddy.” Even saying it in a mocking tone feels wrong, giving you a sort of itch. “I’m not trying to have our child in therapy because of shit we caused her.”

“And you say I’m dramatic.” He rolls his eyes, emphasizing his point. “She’s a smart kid. I think if we just talk with her about how we have to share time with each other—”

“Ha. Share. That’s funny. That girl don’t wanna share you with air, let alone another human being.” It’s a partial joke, partial truth. A frown suddenly falls on your face as you think this over more. “You think something’s going on with her?”

If you didn’t have his attention before, you definitely have it now. “What do you mean?”

Shrugging, you do your best to explain what you don’t quite fully understand. “I don’t know. She’s always been super attached to you, but it’s been more intense lately. Like she’s holding on even tighter. Like—”

“Like she’s scared to let go,” he finishes for you, deep voice settling into something almost despondent. “You think she’s scared I’m gonna leave or something?”

It’s a bit of a stretch but also something you can’t entirely rule out. “Maybe.” With a new sort of determination, you advise. “You’re right. We do need to talk to her.” And for completely different reasons than when you first dragged him in for that conversation. You just want to make sure your baby girl is okay.

That’s the only thing that matters.

On the topic of Callie, you’re reminded of something. “Oh my god.” Gasping, you move away from him. “I didn’t get a chance to show you.”

Curious, he asks, “show me what?”

You reach for his hand, walking over to the desk that’s almost entirely done with being set up and open the first drawer. Grabbing the still unopened envelope, you reach it to him, a small smile on your face. “I wanted to let you open it.”

Joe is understandably confused until he flips the envelope over and sees the sender. His expression immediately softens. “Is this—”

Nodding, you share, “it came in the mail yesterday, but it just slipped my mind to tell you.” He doesn’t say anything, instead focused on opening the envelope as he carefully pulls out the certificate.

Callie’s new and updated birth certificate.

Moving closer to him, you snuggle yourself into his chest as he uses one hand to open and read the document you two have been waiting on for nearly a month now. Everything has stayed the same except for one section, that one section bringing on all of the feels for him. For both of you.

Father/Parent’s Name.

The section that was once blank now reads in printed, black, unerasable ink: Leati Joseph Anoa'i.

You can just feel the immense love and happiness emanating off his big being. He doesn’t need a piece of paper to tell him that he’s Callie’s father. You know that. But this is the piece of paper that gives him all the legal rights as Callie’s father, the rights he should have had from the very beginning.

Holding onto him just a little tighter, loving him a little harder, you murmur against his chest, “now it’s always as it should have been.”

—---------

“I’m thinking strippers. One on each side of the aisle. Shawty throwing ass to the left, and shawty shaking titties on the right.”

Any conversation with Alexis is bound to venture into the deepest parts of fuckery, but this has to be a new level. “You want me to have strippers at my wedding?”

She’s looking at you like she can’t understand what’s so crazy about her proposal. “Yeah, what’s wrong with that?”

Eyes widening, you lean over the counter that’s littered with countless bride magazines and her Macbook Air. “It’s my wedding, Lex.”

“And?” She shakes her head, stirring some of her chocolate pudding. “You love strippers.”

“I do, but that doesn’t mean I want them at my wedding.”

She’s rolling her eyes, flipping her hair over her shoulder as she murmurs, “if you wanted to have a boring ass white people type wedding, you should have just said that.”

You laugh. Wedding planning was always something you imagined doing with your closest friends, and while you’re thankful to have Alexis here as your support and interim wedding planner (because you’re still very much on the fence about that), her tendency to do the most is definitely obscuring her view of logic and what makes sense.”

“I don’t want a white people wedding, per se. I just don’t want anything too crazy.” That’s the best description you can give, because this is all so new to you. You naturally play with the stunning engagement ring on your finger. Part of that confusion is because you’re still a bit stuck on the fact that you’re actually engaged.

To the literal love of your life, at that.

A dream that’s become a reality.

It still feels a little too good to be true.

“Fair, I guess.” She doesn’t seem to agree that it’s fair but won’t push either. “Well, have you at least thought about where you want to get married?”

That, you actually have. Once upon a time, it was in your hometown. Now, you’d rather not get married at all if that was your only option. “I’m thinking here.”

“Florida?” You nod. “Wow. Okay, any particular reason why?”

Shrugging, you answer, grabbing a chunk of pineapple from your fruit bowl. “I don’t know. Joe’s family is already here. It’s easy for my mom to catch a flight out. And anyone else I’d like to attend would have to fly here too anyway. Plus, this place is really beautiful.”

The fact that life has only been up since moving here to be with Joe is a major plus too. But, that doesn’t necessarily feel like it needs to be outright stated.

“Got it.” She starts typing on her laptop, and you have no doubt she’s already created a Google Doc to track everything. It’s one of many things you love about Alexis. She may be crazy as hell, but when she’s on it, she’s on it. “Now, the biggest thing, maybe the most important thing, is gonna be the date.”

“Date?”

She nods, “yeah, like when you want to have the wedding.”

Fuck. As silly as it may sound, you hadn’t even thought about that. Still so caught up in the high of actually being engaged to your soulmate.

Alexis continues, “I’m guessing after the school arrives.”

You roll your eyes. “What did I tell you about calling them that?”

“Okay, the brood.”

“Alexis!”

She throws her hands up. “Don’t get mad at me cause the freaks freaked too much and now ya’ll starting your own little tribe.”

A heavy sigh leaves your mouth as Alexis continues to go in on you over your multiples pregnancy. For the most part, you’ve really come to accept and be okay with it. There are times though where your mind gravitates toward the childbirth portion, and your vagina literally starts to ache at just the thought of that trauma.

Shaking your head and pushing away those thoughts, you return to the conversation at hand. “That’s a good point. I don’t want to walk down the aisle big and pregnant.”

“Exactly.” She types some more. “When is Joe going back to work?” Another great question that you don’t have the answer for. “Oh my god, Y/N, girl, just what do you know?”

“He just said it was indefinite leave!” You throw out in defense of your lack of knowledge. “Definitely not before the babies get here, so after September?”

“And you know he’s not gonna leave you alone with three newborns to take care of, so I can see him staying off air for at least a couple more months.”

That makes sense. “But, he’ll have to be back in time for WrestleMania, I’d imagine.”

“Most definitely. Didn’t you see that one promo he did? Roman Reigns is WrestleMania.” A smile falls on your face. You most definitely did see that promo. It’s one of your favorites that he’s cut. “But the next one isn’t until April, I think.”

“So maybe January?” The smile shifts into a scowl. “He can’t be gone that long though. The fans would lose it.” Thinking back to the Smackdown clips you saw on social media, you point out, “they’re already chanting ‘we want Roman.’”

It’s a bit bittersweet seeing Smakdown clips without Roman, seeing someone else hold his championship belt. But then you think about what that sacrifice gave you, what Joe giving up his title has awarded you, and it takes away some of the sting of it all.

You also feel a bit better knowing Joe is still playing an active role in the Bloodline, just behind the scenes.

She sucks her teeth. “Ain’t that about a bitch? They fake asses acting like they weren’t the main ones wanting Cody to finish the story.” Alexis' borderline anger makes you laugh a little. “Oooh, Joe nice, cause the way I would give them the middle finger, retire, and live out my life with my fine ass wife and 12 children.”

Your eyes widen. “Don’t even put that out there, please.” You've definitely learned now about the power of the tongue. “If I was carrying any more than three children, I might just die.”

“Naw. Childbirth would do that for you.”

“Alexis!”

“Shit, sorry, too dark?” Lord, this girl really has no filter sometimes. “Do you guys want more kids after this? Like, forreal?”

Alexis, despite all of her shenanigans, seems to be on point with the questions. “I don’t know—”

“You don’t know?” That seems to be the answer that actually has her floored the most out of anything else ya’ll have discussed this afternoon thus far. “Bitch, this man put three children in you. Three. You really trying to risk that happening again?”

“Of course not. I just—I don’t know. I don’t think I can really answer that right now. Maybe once we learn the sexes, cause what if they’re all girls?” The likelihood of that happening has to be slim to none, but just like multiples of this quantity can be an anomaly, so can all of one sex. “I want to give him a son.”

Truthfully, you’re praying hard that at least one of them is a boy. You know Joe will love the kids the same. Fully and without inhibition, regardless of sex. But, not only do you want to have a little boy for your own reasons, but being able to continue on Joe’s lineage, maybe even passing down his name to your son would mean even more.

Of course, Alexis is quick with the dumbass suggestion. “Make one of them a tomboy.”

You close your eyes, forcefully stabbing the next chunk of pineapple. “Alexis, I swear to God.”

She leans back in her seat, adjusting her top. “All I know is if you think I’m babysitting four kids, you are sadly mistaken. I’ll take care of my little Cal Gal, but these other newbies are gonna have to prove themselves.”

“Newbies? They’re gonna be literal babies, Lex.”

“And? My beef is rated E for everyone, newborn babies included.”

Lord, this woman is giving you a headache. “I guess there’s a lot I still need to discuss with Joe first before we actually get into planning.”

“Agreed.” It’s a conversation you’re almost not looking forward to simply for the mere fact you don’t want to start thinking too much about Joe’s leave ending. Just wanna enjoy the here and now. But, you know it’s something that needs to be done. “Make sure to ask him about the strippers too.”

“Alexis!”

—-------

As he has almost every day since the start of his vacation, Joe handles dinner for you and Callie. Well, mostly you, since little Ms. ma’am insists upon helping Joe cook, and he insists upon you resting when you make the mistake of telling him you’re experiencing heartburn. It’s a common symptom given you’re about two weeks away from hitting four months and something you experienced when you were pregnant with Callie.

However, he takes all necessary, or maybe, unnecessary precautions, having you sit and rest in the living room, watching some random station while he works in unison with your firstborn to prepare dinner.

He makes grilled fish with a side of rice and broccoli for the vegetable. It makes you laugh every time he encourages and tries to convince Callie that she needs to eat her veggies or else she’ll never grow. Sis looks like she doesn’t entirely believe him but takes the plunge anyhow. Plus, better him than you trying to convince her.

You’ll let him take that battle gladly.

And while he cleans up the kitchen, handles putting all the leftover food away, you tackle Callie’s nighttime routine, specifically her bubble bath, hygiene, and hair. Her bath takes a little longer than usual, somewhat because of your bump, but mostly because with her new disney princess themed bedroom came an attached disney princess themed bathroom. This includes a shit ton of bubble bath additives that any kid would love, many of which she suckered her daddy into buying during your Disney trip.

You don’t even want to know how much that man spent on Callie in that one week timespan. It seemed like everything she saw she wanted, and he wasted no time in pulling out his black card, buying it for her.

You can only pray she remains sweet and humble with a daddy like Joe who’s seemingly hellbent on spoiling her rotten.

Getting her in her pajamas and securing her bonnet over her head after putting her curls into a pineapple is the easy part, and she’s nearly bursting at the seams to get out the bathroom door for a reason you already know and don’t need to ask.

Cause as soon as you’re done, she’s like a speeding bullet, rushing out her bathroom and room, straight into yours.

“Daddy?”

By the time you get everything back and put away, she’s found her target. Joe is sitting on your bed, Callie tucked into his side with her chosen bedtime book in hand. She surprises you though when she looks up and smiles brightly. “You can come too, mommy.”

This has to be your first invite in at least a week, and it makes you genuinely smile as well.

“Thank you, baby.” There’s not an ounce of hesitation as you move over to the other side of the bed, climbing in with them. A brief shared look with Joe gives you the signal you need to jumpstart the conversation you’ve been thinking about all day. “Callie, daddy and I actually wanna talk to you about something.”

Instantly, she’s frowning, pouting almost as she snuggles closer into Joe’s chest. “I don’t want to talk.”

This makes you frown, as Joe also looks taken back by her response. He rubs gentle circles along her back. “Callie Bear, what’s going on with you?”

You pick up on her hesitant reply the same way you’re sure Joe does. “Nothing.”

Placing a comforting hand on her arm, you softly point out some of the things that have led to this conversation. “Calista, I’ve noticed you’ve been spending a lot of time with daddy. And you sometimes don’t even want me to spend time with ya’ll.” Licking your lips, you do your best to keep your voice as calm and soothing as possible. “Are you…are you maybe scared about something?”

And it’s when she looks at you for a second, that fear flashing in her eyes, you know that’s what it is. Something has her nervous.

Hating that something is bothering her and especially that she’s keeping it in, you whisper, “Please tell us, baby.”

And it’s Joe holding her a little tighter along with your gentle coaxing that seems to do it, seems to break down that wall that hides her truth. She sniffles, “I don’t want daddy to leave again.”

“Calista…” You hate seeing her so sad, but you especially hate seeing and hearing the pain in Joe’s face and voice at the fact that he’s indirectly the reason for her sadness. “Baby girl, I’m not going anywhere right now, remember? I’m staying here with you and mommy.”

You’re thankful he doesn’t really highlight the fact that he will eventually have to go back to work. Callie isn’t stupid. She knows this, but it’s not what she needs to hear right now.

And your chest tightens as she sadly points out to Joe a trauma you still haven’t had the space to fully process. “But those people took me from mommy, and I couldn’t see her.” Eyes glossing over, it breaks your heart to hear that she still thinks about that. That being separated from you the way she was is still impacting her. “What if they take me and I can’t see you or mommy?” She adds on in a way that twists the dagger in your chest, “or they make you leave me like they made mommy leave me?”

At that, he pulls her onto his lap, carefully lifting her chin to make her look at him. “Calista, listen to me, sweetheart. No one could ever take you away from me or your mom. Ever.” He speaks with such conviction and determination. He needs her to believe what she’s saying. You both do. “You’re our little girl.”

“He’s right. I know…I know that scared you, but your daddy and I aren’t going anywhere. We promise.” Reaching over to cup her face, you ask in a way that’s more telling than questioning. “That’s why you’ve been wanting to sleep with us.”

She nods, quietly explaining. “I don’t want you to be gone when I wake up.”

“Oh, baby.” you reach for her and she climbs over to you, hugging you tight, head against your chest. “Daddy and I are gonna be here for you, always, okay? No matter what.” Chuckling a bit, you wipe the tears from her eyes. “Even when you’re all grown up and don’t need us anymore.”

She looks between ya’ll, almost wide eyed. “Noooo.” She reaches for Joe who moves closer to the two of you. “You’re my mommy and daddy. I’ll always need my mommy and daddy.”

Her innocence warms your heart. You love this little girl so much. More than words.

“We love you, Callie.” Joe kisses her forehead as she holds onto his arm.

“I love you guys too.” Her voice is less laid down with that big weight she was carrying around, and it makes you happy to know she feels a bit better, a bit more secure. “Can–can I still sleep with you guys tonight?”

“Of course, baby.” The answer is easy. Knowing now why she’s wanted to stay so close, it would feel almost cruel to deprive her of that comfort. “Of course you can.”

—-------

Megan Lowery is having a shit day.

Beyond a shit day, really.

The first issue being that her stupid alarm didn’t go off. A classic nuisance that almost everyone has experienced at one point or another.

Except for her.

She’s never had her good old faithful iPhone alarm not get her up in time to tackle the day, until this morning, which has since only gravitated from bad to worse.

Because of course her coffee machine decided to act up. Any other time, she’d have zero issue brewing her morning cup of Joe, but not this morning. No, this morning she was forced to forgo her addiction of almost twenty years nor did she have the time to stop and buy a cup due to already running late because of her dumbass alarm glitching.

And the shitty day couldn’t be completed without some asshole bumping into her and spilling their deliciously smelling coffee all over her Free People blouse.

Put plain and simple, it’s a bad day, and she’s already over it before it even hits 1pm.

It’s why she sits in her meeting, doodling on her legal pad instead of listening to what probably could have been an email.

“Lowery!”

Megan jumps in her seat, eyes scanning the room of coworkers who sit watching her carefully. She clears her throat. “Sir?”

Luke, her boss, crosses his arms. “Am I boring you?”

Yes. “No sir, of course not.”

“I think I am.” Megan has never liked Luke. A product of nepotism, his father created the casting company she works for back in the eighties where he grew it to the major success it is today, only to pass it down to his son a few years ago after ailing health. And while Luke isn’t a bad CEO, per se, he’s not the funny, down to earth type like his old man.

No. The man is a Grade A asshole sometimes.

And this seems to be one of those times.

“Then what was I discussing?”

Fuck. Megan has always hated looking stupid, and she’s usually pretty good at both paying and not paying attention. But without her coffee, it’s damn near impossible to achieve that feat.

“Actually, sir, Megan was just whispering some ideas to me for how we can get Reigns to sign on.”

Megan shoots a vicious look to her work bestie, Paige. She smiles, her perfectly white teeth a stark contrast to her tanned, freckled complexion. “She’s got some great ideas too.”

Luke is smirking, and she knows that he knows Paige is blowing air up his ass. That doesn’t stop him from having his fun though. “Perfect, then I suppose you won’t have any issues taking on the assignment.”

Megan swallows. She doesn’t even know what this assignment is. But the thought of letting her asshole boss get one over on her literally makes her nauseous. With a steel smile, she accepts, “Of course not.”

“Perfect.” He smirks. She has to stop herself from rolling her eyes. Smug bastard. “I’ll forward you the file and contact information for his reps.” Luke looks around at the rest of the employees. “Meeting is over.”

As everyone empties out, Luke being the first, Megan waits impatiently for everyone to depart before turning to Paige and punching her on her arm.

“Ow!”

“What the hell?” She hates being put in situations where she has no idea what’s going on, and this just so happens to be one of them. “What did you just get me into?”

“You could just say thank you for saving my ass, you wonderful goddess.” Paige adjusts her glasses and opens her laptop, typing away before sharing her screen with Megan. “This is what you’re getting into.”

Megan is still annoyed as her eyes land on the screen, but that irritation easily drifts away when she sees who is on the screen. “Holy shit, that’s Roman Reigns.”

“Duh.” Paige says with all the sass, explaining. “Universal wants him for an upcoming film they’re doing, but WWE just announced he’s taking an indefinite hiatus, so it might be a hard sell.”

Paige, of course, selected a photo of the former champ in the ring, shirtless, hair down. Looking literally like the Gods put all of their talent into one pot and poured out him. Megan then asks, “why is he on hiatus?”

“That’s the sad part.” Paige does some typing and pulls up an article. She points to the several headlines that all say the same thing just in different ways.

He’s engaged.

“I swear, all the good ones are taken.” Paige pouts. “There was actually some drama he was in a couple weeks ago but it’s all died down now, I think. I’ll have to send you the tea. Nevertheless, he’s engaged and expecting another child with his now fiancé.”

Megan clicks on one of the articles that show Roman and who she’d guess is the fiancé. A frown falls on her face. “Seriously? Her? He could have done way better.” Exceptionally. Megan could never see someone like him, body sculpted by Zeus himself, with someone like her who looks like she’s never even seen the inside of a gym.

“Regardless, that’s his lady, and they already have one kid together, so he’s really off-limits.” Paige shrugs, closing her laptop. “Thankfully, all you need to do is get him to agree to do this film.” She snorts. “Baby on the way, planning a wedding, how hard can that be?”

Megan rolls her eyes and flips off Paige who laughs while standing up. “Wanna go get lunch? My treat.”

Shaking her head, Megan politely declines. “No thanks. I’ve got a few emails I’ve gotta get caught up on. Raincheck?”

“You bet.” Paige winks and walks out, closing the door behind her to leave Megan alone with her many thoughts.

Paige is right. It’s going to be a challenge to get Roman to sign onto this film when he has so much going on in his personal life. Some might even see it as DOA. Megan, however, has always been intrigued by challenges. She’s never encountered a situation where she didn’t get what she wanted. Where she didn’t get who she wanted.

On a film.

Of course.

Pulling out her phone, she googles his name, scowling when one of the first photos is of him and the fiancé and their kid, she’d guess. She easily pinches on said photo, eliminating them and filling her screen with only him.

Head tilted, twirling a piece of her hair, she says to no one in particular. “You and I are about to be very good friends, Mr. Reigns….”

#roman reigns x black!reader #roman reigns x black!oc #roman reigns #roman reigns fic #arisnotebook

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the-oblivious-writer · 7 months ago

Text

Too Sweet

Wednesday Addams x Reader

Drabble

Summary: You and Wednesday were simply night and day, contrasting personalities preventing any chance of pursuit

Warning(s): No dialogue, pining!Wednesday, & no pronouns but the word 'goddess' is used once

Notes: Based off of 'Too Sweet' by the lovely Andrew Hozier, this song feels wenclair coded - hopefully I get the energy to edit them to it one day. This is my first time writing for Wednesday, so constructive criticism is more than welcome, and much appreciated! 🙏 (as it always is)

Wednesday despised you. She loathed every fiber of your being, every word you spoke, every path you chose. Yet no matter how deep her hatred for you ran, it was all out of pure spite.

You were close friends with Enid, so inevitably that meant you and Wednesday often found yourselves in the same atmosphere. Sometimes you and Enid would have sleepovers and it did not take long for Wednesday to discover you were an early bird opposed to her late night writing sessions.

You always looked so peaceful while resting. How do you sleep so well? Wednesday wondered. What do you dream about? It’s silly and utterly ridiculous, she knows. But her mind can’t help but stray when it comes to you. You have shown your own concern when it comes to the Addams’ erratic sleep schedule, if you could even classify it as one. You have always said to others—including Wednesday—to live right, to go to bed before the daylight.

You wake up to watch the sunrise; it was repulsing how rottenly pure that is. You were drunk on life, a poet—but far from Wednesday’s brand. You had a bright perspective; it was naive, yet wholesome. Your poetry revolves around the optimistic, steadfast side of life—while Wednesday’s consists of more realistic themes such as death, betrayal, and eternal heartbreak. It was a drastic contrast.

Wednesday could never bear such a naive way of life, so she simply doesn’t understand how you do. It was such a frustrating thought, the way you went about. Don’t you just want to wake up dark as a lake, smelling like a bonfire, lost in a haze? You lived such a reserved life in her eyes; treating your mouth as if it's heaven’s gate, your body like it’s the TSA.

She wasn’t oblivious to the glances you spared her; it was an internal battle refusing to meet them. But there were consequences. Wednesday has seen horrific things, things she believes would force a person like you into abandoning their wide-eyed outlook on life; she refuses to be the one who corrupts you. She wishes she could go along, don’t get her wrong. You were a goddess on earth, inside and out; bright as the morning, as soft as the rain, pretty as a vine, as sweet as a grape. Tooth rotting was what you were, but Wednesday did always deem herself a masochist.

If you can sit in a barrel, maybe she’ll wait. But until that day, she’d rather take her whiskey neat, raw as the honey in your tea, and coffee black as the ink you use to craft your sugar coated poems. Your sweetness was too overwhelming for her to carry, the looks you gave her alone were laced in your perfection.

Everything pointed to the evident conclusion; you’re too sweet for her.

-----------

A/N: I feel eh abt this one, but I need to experiment with Wednesday more if I wanna get used to writing for her

#wednesday addams x you #wednesday x reader #wednesday addams x reader #wednesday addams x female reader #wednesday addams x gn!reader #wednesday x you #wednesday x y/n #jenna ortega x reader #wednesday addams

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sugurouge · 24 days ago

Text

— call her my obsession : ghostface! ex boyfriend! endo yamato x f!reader

content warnings! DARK CONTENT, mask kink, slight stalking, hunter/prey, possessive topics, lovesick endo, lots of praise, marking, biting, public sex, pet names (doll, good little thing/ thing, darling, bunny, princess, sweetheart, he rambles), dubcon, yandere themes, slight strangling&asphyxiation, hair pulling, remnants of conditioning, toxic relationship, cunnilingus, rough sex, manhandling

summary: endo would do anything to please. even if you have scratched him out of your life months ago, he would never give up on the person he loves that easily. when will you learn that he lives to make you happy? maybe if he brings your wildest fantasies to life, you will let him in again. in the end, he is nothing but hopelessly devoted to you

wordcount: 2.8k | my kinktober masterlist

a/n: this is my piece for the tokyo station ghostface collab! i hope you will enjoy <3

by clicking read more you are agreeing to consume dark content. don't interact if you cannot differentiate fiction from reality.

It all began at a silly Halloween party. You showed up dressed provocatively, in a skin-tight black bodysuit and a laughable excuse for cat makeup, topped off with a pair of fake ears. It looked cheap, but in the best way possible, a pair of icy blues noted with amusement. His brave little bunny hiding in cat clothing.

Throughout the night, you felt his presence, like a chilling gust of wind that made shivers crawl down your spine. Yes, someone was watching you—someone hiding behind a rubber white mask. You saw many of those masks that night, but he stood out. The tight fitting black turtleneck, muscular build, gloved hands. Everything made him look too hot to be at this shabby party.

He knew you were watching him, lusting after him. You were probably halfway gone the moment he first touched you. Strong hands hovering over your hips as you swayed to the playlist's songs. Despite the booming of the music, your pathetic little mewl rang through to his very core. The tremble of your glossy lips told him all about the dirty thoughts that were racing through your pretty mind.

Naughty little thing.

How dare you leave him alone on the dance floor after eyefucking him as much as he did you? Of course, his desires were hidden better than yours. You were an open book, playing hard to get like the princess you are as your heels carried you through the crowd. Yet, that longing gaze over your shoulder was all he needed to keep following you. He could almost smell your arousal. The thought of your wet pussy made him salivate, his sharp canines digging into his bottom lip to keep him grounded.

He had to focus; he couldn’t lose you now.

Not when you finally made it outside the abandoned house, moonlight casting you in an ethereal glow, making you look like an angel.

But where are you taking him? Why are you so certain he’ll follow you?

With only one goal in mind, your feet follow the pathway until you reach the edge of a little forest. You can’t help the curiosity that screams at you to just give all this a try.Those scenes in horror movies that make you unconsciously press your thighs together, make you bite your nails until your company pointed out your adorable reactions. It was embarrassing back then, realising that such twisted scenes turn you on, and even more so, the wish to be chased for once. You never expected this to actually happen.

So this is all your own fault. Because of your stupid social media and movie obsession.What kind of idiot would actually want to play catch in the woods with fucking Ghostface? With a stranger of all things. Your ancestors would be so disappointed.

It all seemed like child’s play, until actual fear settles in your bones. Until your heels make your escape harder, getting stuck in the dirt or caught on roots again and again. You have to take them off if you want a fair shot at this game.

The forest looms ahead, dark and foreboding, each shadow seeming to stretch out, eager to swallow you whole. Your breath quickens, heart pounding in your chest as you venture deeper. The moonlight barely pierces the dense canopy above, casting eerie patterns on the forest floor.

The game has turned dangerous, as adrenaline surges through you. The echo of your pursuer's footsteps grow louder, closer. He teases you with the cracking of branches beneath his heavy footwear, he must have an easy time stalking behind. “Sweetheart, where are you bringing me?” His raspy voice rings through the trees, as clear as if he were to stand right behind you, looming above your smaller frame like a starved wolf. Your mind races, torn between the intoxicating excitement and the creeping terror as a pathetic whimper seems like your pathetic answer to his question. You have fantasised about this moment, but reality is far more intense. The fear is real, and so is the man chasing you. “I thought you wanted to play with me as much as I wanna play with you, bunny~”

How dare you try to get away from him?

Maniacal laughter echoes through the woods as Endo watches you stumble through the dark, refusing to speak with him. Are you really that scared?. "Stop trying to run from me," he warns, impatience starting to lace his voice. "You were such a good little thing, got me all riled up. Now let me catch my reward."

The forest seems to close in around you, shadows dancing and whispering secrets. His footsteps grow louder, the sound of leaves crunching underfoot mixing with your staggered breaths. He revels in the chase, the joy of witnessing your fear, and the promise of what comes next.

"I want the woods to hear your pretty moans, all for me," he nearly moans the words himself, tearing off the Ghostface mask to see better. His crazy blue eyes lock onto you, the moonlight illuminating his face, twisted with a mix of lust and madness all for you to see.

You stumble upon the initial scare, heart pounding wildly in your chest. How? Why? Out of all the people in the world. “No backsies~” Endo warns, as you lose sight of him in the trees. Anyone, anyone but him. You hide behind a tree, eyes heavy from the tears you were fighting back now spilling free. The forest, once a place of curiosity for your dark fantasies, now feels like a trap. And Endo is closing in on you.

It’s an eerie atmosphere as silence holds your body still like a ghostly embrace. You are too scared to speak, move, or look. You should really keep an eye on your surroundings, but your eyes remain tightly shut, tears seemingly unending as they ruin your makeup and taint your cheeks.

The stillness is unbearable.

Until Endo reaches you. His strong frame overwhelms you in an instant. Somewhere along the way he rid himself of the constricting sweater, freeing his heated skin to let his signature tattoos greet you. The sudden proximity of his body wraps a blanket of intense, nearly unbearable heat, around you. It battles the stark contrast of the chill that clings to your skin. His hand grasps into your hair recklessly, yanking you back until you stumble into his broad chest. The tattoos that snake along his arms are suddenly around your neck, his fingers pressing into the delicate skin, constricting your breath. Endo hums cheerfully, his sugary voice vibrating against your ear as he whispers, "Found ya!" The sweetness of his words contradicts sharply with the crude actions that follow: he presses you against a tree, his teeth biting into your shoulder, nibbling along your neck. His canines break your skin with ease as his nails dig into your hips, to perfectly hold you in place.

He arches you into the tree, your ass out for his cock to rut against while he abuses your skin, littering it with love bites. "Fuck me, you smell so good, pretty thing," he murmurs while shamelessly inhaling your scent, just as sweet as he remembers but now laced with fear. “I’ve missed you so much, you can’t imagine…”

Deep, raspy moans of your name and filthy mumbles a haunting symphony of his deep love.

He can no longer contain his excitement. The need to have you, to feel you, to taste you again reigns over him. Endo's large hands run along your outer thighs before moving to the inner ones, his fingertips teasing your overly sensitive skin. Greedily, he cups your pussy in his palm, his fingers brushing against your clit through the fabric. Oh, he loves how much you leak because of him. He has no other choice but to rub in just how much your body reacts to him.

You fulfil Endo. The pathetic cry that escapes your lips? Heavenly. The plea of his name? Delicious. And the nimble fingers trying to push against his strong hand? "Fuck, you’re so cute," Endo whispers, his voice lovesick.

But enough playing around. Enough hiding from him. Endo focuses back onto the task ahead, onto the flimsy bodysuit you’re wearing. Which is, by the way, so easy to tear, to conquer what he needs, just like that: His fingertips dig into the fabric between your thighs and the harsh ripping sounds have you jolt awake, have you pull away from his grasp like a spoiled brat—he hates brats.

"Stop putting up a fight," he murmurs, "You asked for this."

The sharp sting in your scalp is a brutal reminder of your place as Endo yanks your hair once more, pulling you back into his grasp. Your head rests on his shoulder, his crazed gaze locking onto your widened eyes, fear evident in your pretty pupils. Two fingers pump deeply into your cunt, scissoring your walls to prepare you for his own twisted desires. "Look at you, clinging to my fingers like a cockhungry little monster," he chuckles, relishing in his own words and your ashamed reaction as you struggle to maintain eye contact.

"Why don’t your pretty lips beg for me as well?" he whispers into your ear before his teeth graze your earlobe, sending shivers down your spine. "Beg for me to fuck you out in the open. Beg for me, come on, pretty girl, I need you to tell me how desperate you are for me right this fucking moment." His eyes widen with excitement, a manic grin spreading across his face, making him appear almost unhinged—yet, to you, insanely hot?

His maniacal love brings back memories you repressed. No matter how sick his affliction was, it filled you like nothing else. And now that he’s back, Endo will make sure he never messes that up again.

This is all you wanted, isn’t it? The hunt, the chase, the inevitable claim of the prize. You nod quickly, lips pressed tightly together before they part again, though you can’t stop grinding against him like an animal in heat. "Please, fuck me, take me, I’m all yours, you won, I really, really wanna—" Your pleas are cut off by a high-pitched moan as he thrusts a third finger into you. Your eyes roll back from the intense stimulation, but a sharp spank to your arse drags you back to reality.

"Didn’t say it was enough—go on," Endo urges, his eyes searching your face, desperate for praise. "Can’t think of anything but getting fucked by you tonight. Please, please, please, I need you!" Of course you do. And he needs you just as badly. He knows you so well, knows exactly how to make your sharp tongue forget how to form words, how to make you chant his name like a prayer. The sounds falling from your lips fuel his madness, his eyes frantically searching yours for every scrap of affection you can offer him in this obscene display.

Your back meets the rough bark of a tree as Endo lifts your legs effortlessly, placing them on his shoulders as he kneels before you like a man devoting himself to his goddess. You barely have time to catch your breath before his mouth is on your pussy, his head buried between your thighs as he laps at your folds with fervour. His tongue, hot and insistent, drags along your puffy lips before pushing against your throbbing flesh, circling your clit with maddening precision. His groans vibrate through your body, and you clench your thighs around his head, your fingers tangling in his hair and tugging violently at the roots—just the way he loves it. He savours the shivers running down his spine, the tightening in his gut, the aching weight in his trousers.

"Fuck, you’re driving me insane, doll," he moans into your pussy, his teeth grazing your clit until you jerk, too sensitive yet craving more. You could never get enough of him. Why did you even bother breaking up with him?

"‘M so close, can’t take more, Ya-Yamato~" You gasp, but he won’t let you falter now. You can take more—just a little more of his love. The pain you cause by pulling his hair only spurs him on, driving him further into his frenzy. Until you’re trembling against him, your legs shaking around his head under the relentless patterns of his tongue circling your clit. Your increased volume drives Endo to the brink of madness.

"God, bunny, you taste so fucking good," he mutters into your folds, the vibrations of his words adding to the overwhelming pleasure. Your moans are like music to him, a symphony he could listen to endlessly. His fingers slide back into you, curling to reach that perfect, gummy spot inside while he devours your slick like a man starved. He pushes you harder against the tree, his free hand roaming your thighs, tearing your bodysuit further apart for easy access to everything he craves.

This is his reward, his obsession—his twisted love made flesh. And you, trembling and whimpering under his touch, are exactly where you belong.

You’re rutting against his face, pulling him deeper into your pussy, thighs squeezing around him, muffling his groans as your moans echo through the dead forest. Just as the crest of your release approaches, he suddenly pulls away, and your feet land on the ground. His palm meets your puffy cunt with a sharp, stinging slap, pushing you over the edge with a burst of pain. You tumble into his strong chest, fully engulfed in Endo, surrounded and protected by him as you come undone in the palm of his hand.

"Good little thing, playing so well with me tonight," he murmurs, his voice a mix of praise and possessiveness. "You deserve to be fucked until your legs give out, leaving a trail for all the perverts to lick up on your way home." He inhales your scent deeply, arms holding you steady as you teeter on the edge of consciousness. You’re halfway gone, lost in the aftermath of your release, so it’s no surprise you don’t register the sound of his zip being undone.

Endo manoeuvres you like his personal plaything, turning you around with a practised ease. A flat hand between your shoulder blades pushes you forward, but he doesn’t let you fall. He’ll always hold his princess up. His biceps flex as he snakes an arm around your waist, positioning you perfectly to slide his needy cock inside you. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, drowning himself in your scent as he thrusts deeply, each push driving you forward in his embrace. Your body jerks with the impact, on the verge of giving out.

"You wanted this," he reminds you, his breath staggered, drawing out each word as he battles his own exhaustion. "You know I’ll make any of your wishes come true, no matter how fucked up." Another harsh thrust nearly drives you into the tree, but Endo pulls you back, refusing to let you drift too far from him. He will always hold you as close as possible. "I’d do anything for you," he rambles, his voice thick with devotion. His brows furrow in concentration as he leans back, his eyes raking over your subdued form.

His hands grip your upper arms, his thighs spreading you open as his hips bounce against the soft flesh of your arse. He’s so close—so fucking close. Mumbled adorations spill from his lips, "My perfect girl," and hushed "I love you"s pouring into your fucked-out mind. He doesn’t mind your muted responses; not when your walls clamp around his cock with every word of praise. His beloved is tired, after all. "Gonna cum inside ya, fuck, I’m so close," he groans, his breath ragged, moans raspy. The heat of his breath and the drops of sweat the only sensations grounding you while he fucks you with growing desperation.

Endo's movements slow down for him to only grind into you once his neediness makes a return. "Let me hear it again, pretty thing, tell me." His voice is a desperate pant, needing your words to anchor him. Perfectly conditioned, you remember what makes him fall apart in the palm of your hand. No matter the bile biting your throat upon the messy memories you hold for him, you give him what he needs. "I-I love you, Yamato, I love you, can you cum for me, please?" you pant, your voice trembling.

His eyes roll back, a near-maniacal grin spreading across his face as his head falls back to gaze at the bright moonlight above. "Don’t have to ask me twice, doll," he promises, and with a final thrust, he finally lets go, freeing himself from the pent-up need that consumed him.

dividers by @/cafekitsune

#endo smut #wind breaker smut #endo x reader smut #endo yamato smut #about.endo #cw dubcon #cw stalking #cw marking #cw public sex #─ .✦ winter's words #cw yandere #cw asphyxiation #cw hair pulling #cw conditioning #cw manhandling

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aislebewithshu · 20 days ago

Text

love kitty

x gender neutral reader.

wc: 486

cw: yandere x yandere, stockholm syndrome, obsession, codependency themes, references of being caged, directly based on love cat and love kitty

author notes: hii i love biz's songs too much.. lowkey proud of my loveit? prompt so i made a love kitty one :3 happy reading ! not beta read, scroll if uncomfy <3

“i’m so happy to see you come home, your highness! welcome back, dear [name]~”

your beloved love cat who is always eager to wait for you to come home to your shared abode- offers you your ‘meow’ in exchange for the love he oh so craves from you. after all, this codependency you share, it's inescapable.

he was a bad, naughty kitty at first, seeking affection from others when you're right there for him! at least, he has learned his lesson right? he is now collared to you, anyway. sure he was a bit... confused at your actions at first? terrified? no one knows. he's a dear, fickle cat that doesn't know the true meaning of love, but that's alright, you're here to teach him.

“running off's fine, but back home's so scary”

he would avoid the moments that you give him your twisted love at first. it was suffocating, intoxicating. as if you both are playing a staring contest, so manic that both of you would lose to each other in this game of lamenting captivity.

third time’s the charm, that’s what they say. it’s like he is now hypnotized by you, you’re invading his mind and heart in no time! why won’t you go away? is it because he was trying to spend time with someone else? he knows you would not let him, crazed feline eyes with irises having a slit. putting a collar on him, you have branded him as yours.

he would try to fight you back at first, but he becomes more domesticated, as time goes on. he’s slowly falling for it all, consuming sin and punishment, whispering love to each other.

“even if you turn away, it's still alright. you are my very own "love cat", that's that.”

he has learned to love you unconditionally. your very own love cat, who is encaged with you for eternity.

"please love me, hey."

"i'm scared, can't step out of the cage anymore."

maybe he would also leave a mark on you as you left yours on his! let him have a bite, maybe? he's willing to bare his fangs. the more this goes on, the more twisted this love gets, and you are both hungry for it. he was insatiable when it comes to your affection, like a cat that is needy of its owner’s attention.

he cannot stand to live without you- he needs you too much to the point that his life now depends on you. like a clumsy love cat, he wants you so much, too much that it's getting ridiculous. you haven't seen any other guys worthy of being your 'pet cat', right? good, he gladly plays that role for you without hesitation, anyway. because if so, he won't hesitate to draw his claws out to eliminate them.

after all, both of you are in too deep in to the pit of hell that is called love.

enstars - kagehira mika, sakasaki natsume, sakuma ritsu, hakaze kaoru

twst - azul ashengrotto, idia shroud (? idk he has the vibes)

bllk - alexis ness, shidou ryusei, michael kaiser (HEAR ME OUT ON THIS ONE)

+ your faves.

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cevansbrat0007 · 10 months ago

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The Scent of You

Summary: Ari loves the sweet scent of you, which is why he's content to live between your thighs.

Warnings: Smut, Mature Themes, Ari Being A Menace, Begging, Oral Sex (fem rec), Pussy Spanking, Slight Chase Kink, Light D/s themes, Minors DNI

A/N: Written for @curls-and-eyeliner. Hopefully this is okay, ya'll. I'm honestly not sure if it worked the way I intended. Part of my Sweet Renegades Series. Semi-proofread, not beta'd. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated. Thanks for reading!

It’s no secret that Ari adores you, but you’ve learned over the course of your relationship that he is particularly fond of the way you smell. Your natural essence of spiced, sugared vanilla draws him in like a moth to a flame.

Which means he was always looking for a reason to touch you – to pull you close and breathe you in. Whether he’s hauling you against his broad chest to bury his nose in your hair while you’re cooking dinner, or he’s busy cascading soft, sweet kisses along the delicate column of your throat when you’re both snuggled up on the couch.

Your scent is like a drug. It calls to him – like a siren’s song – demanding that your handsome Bounty Hunter give in and help himself to his next hit.

This man is hooked on you and it’s honestly one of the most exhilarating things you’ve ever experienced. Growing up, you’d never dreamed someone would desire you like this; that anyone would want you in such an all-consuming way.

“I’m going to burn the chicken if you don’t cut it out.” You hum, smiling when you feel his brawny arms tighten around your waist. “And then we won’t have anything to eat but mashed potatoes and asparagus.”

“Mm. Then maybe we’ll just have to order-in.” His warm lips dance along your skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake.

“Beast.” You try again, intending to issue a light reprimand. Instead your voice comes out soft and breathy.

“You can feed me my dessert while we wait.” Ari’s long, talented fingers travel to the waistband of your pink sleep shorts, lightly tugging at the drawstring. “Just think about it.” You briefly lose your train of thought as you find yourself trying to remember if you were even wearing panties.

You’re pretty sure that you’d neglected to put them on again after your shower. At the time, you’d told yourself that you were trying to save yourself from having to make another trip to Victoria’s Secret.

It wasn’t your fault that your Beast wasn’t always house-trained. He was the kind of man who had a propensity for ripping off your underthings and tucking them into his pocket. Which meant you often had to make adjustments to your wardrobe.

And all of it because the scent of your arousal drove him wild.

Your musings are interrupted when a sudden pop of grease splashes out of the cast iron skillet, just missing both you and your man. “Alright, hands to yourself now, Beast. We’re working around hot oil and I’d feel terrible if you got hurt.”

Jesus H. Christ, you should’ve picked another day to fry this incorrigible man some chicken.

Ari nuzzles his nose in the crook of your neck, gently nipping at your pulse point. “I just need a fix, baby. One little hit and I’ll be good for the rest of the night.”

“Ari…” You blow out an exasperated breath as you reach for your tongs to flip your meat. “You don’t even know if I’ve showered or not today.”

“Don’t care.” He grunts, one big hand reaching into your shorts to possessively cup your increasingly damp pussy. “You know I love how you smell. Almost as much as I love the way you taste.” Ari lips move on to kiss along the shell of your ear. A shudder courses through you when he tugs the sensitive load between his sharp teeth.

“I’m proud to wear my girl.”

Your thighs clench of their own accord, your empty walls clenching around nothing. Apparently your body was just as hungry for him as he was for you.

“Y–you can’t go around just saying things like that.” It comes out as a whimper as your cheeks heat, meanwhile Ari busies himself with grinding the heel of his lightly calloused palm against your already throbbing clit.

“Why not, Duchess? Am I being too crass for you?” He teases as his free hand comes up to knead your breast, squeezing with just the amount of roughness he knew made your knees weak. “Turn that shit off and come feed me. I’ve been dying to get between those thighs all fuckin’ day.”

“But–but…” Your eyes flutter closed even as you reach for the knob that controls the burner, switching it off. Maybe he was right. You hated to waste this, but you could always try again another day.

Preferably on a night when your very persistent Beast was working late.

“There we go. I knew my woman wasn’t the type to let me go hungry.” Ari murmurs, releasing his grip on your now very wet pussy in favor of tugging down your shorts. A growl rumbles deep in his throat as he watches them fall to the ground at your feet. “I knew you couldn’t be that mean.”

“You owe me chicken alfredo from Guiseppe’s, you animal.” You snarl, removing the pan from the heat.

“Consider it done, baby.” You could tell without looking at him that he was obviously pleased with himself.

God this man was an absolute menace. But he was yours, which meant you had to keep him. Hell, you were pretty sure that if you ever tried to put him up for adoption you were pretty sure he’d find his way home.

Back to you. Wherever you were.

Feeling bold, you wiggle out of the Bounty Hunter’s grasp, only to be surprised when he lets you go.

“Bet you can’t catch me.” You challenge, making a sudden dash for the stairs.

Of course you knew he’d catch you. But sometimes you liked running from your Beast – because he was the type to always give chase which would only add spice to the proceedings.

And just like you knew he’d be, your Bounty Hunter is on you before you reach the fourth step. A scream escapes you – but you both know it’s one of excitement. After all, Ari Levinson was every inch the predator. It’s why you lovingly referred to him as “your Beast”.

“Gotcha now, Duchess.” He hisses, a heady mix of exhilaration and pride coursing through his veins. And that’s when you finally notice the impressive tent hidden beneath the fabric of his light gray sweats.

God, you had a feeling this man was gonna wreck you tonight. You just hoped you’d be able to walk in a straight line come tomorrow morning.

Ari takes that moment to flip you over before gently maneuvering your body in such a way that allows you to slide down a couple of steps.

“Yeah, you caught me.” You breathe, your body aching for him. And then you part your thighs, feeling more than a little empowered when you notice the way his imperious gaze darkens with lust at the sight of your glistening cunt. “Now…what are you going to do with me?”

Grabbing the edge of your nightshirt, you slowly pull it over your head, baring your breasts. If this man wanted you and was so willing to *ruin* your dinner for it, then who were you to deny him?

Immediately, Ari buries his face between your slick covered thighs, his powerful hands coming up to quickly throw your legs over his muscled shoulders. A deep, satisfied groan of appreciation escapes his throat as he sucks your pulsing clit into his warm, waiting mouth.

“Holy shit!” You cry, burying your hands in his soft, chestnut strands. “Sir, please!” Your body begins to tremble as you’re treated to the most sensual of assaults.

One thick finger gently prods at your entrance, seeking refuge in your slippery cunt. At the same time, you feel Ari release your sensitive bundle of nerves, content to lap at it with his wicked tongue.

“That's it now. Fuckin' drench me, Bird.” He orders softly, his voice coming out slightly muffled.

And then pauses he pauses again – this time to nuzzle his nose against your slippery folds. Your entire body quivers when he takes a deep breath, inhaling your scent and reveling in your wetness.

“My fuckin’ pussy.” Ari snarls, his flat tongue dragging a long, greedy swipe along your cunt. “Mine.” He pulls away long enough to slap your core in silent demand.

“Fuck yes!” You agree, eagerly rocking your hips in time with each delicious lash of his tongue. He swirls it over your little bundle of nerves, making your toes curl.

“Would wear you all day if you’d let me.” His nimble fingers begin to work you over, stretching you in the way he knew would make you crazy. “Proud to wear my girl.”

“Omigosh!Omigosh!Omigosh!” You wail, your velvety walls clenching around his fingers as he pumps them in and out of you.

“Promise to always feed me when I need it, little Bird.” You feel his teeth lightly graze your clit once more, loving the way it makes you thrash and moan.

That’s right. This man was breaking you down on your living room stairs. And it was so good that you couldn’t even be bothered to make yourself give a proper fuck.

Dear God, this was the most exquisite kind of pleasure.

“Don’t you dare let me starve.” His fingers curve inside you, expertly finding your spot.

Holy fucking shit your man was making one hell of compelling argument, as evidenced by sweet cries and your shaking legs.

“Never.” Your thighs tighten around his head, threatening to smother him even as you gush around him.

Just the way you knew he fucking loved.

“There we go -- yeah, that’s it.” Ari rasps, smacking your right flank, reveling in the way you clench around him as you continue to ride his face. Meanwhile, you’re busy writhing in your man’s arms, trying not to escape his grasp as that familiar coil of pleasure begins to tighten in your belly.

You know he knows you’re close. So he picks up his pace, clearly enjoying the way you’re coming apart under his feral loving.

“I just need one good one from you – just one good one to start. And then I’m gonna give you my cock.” He increases the pace of his fingers, not missing the way your head is thrown back in complete submission. “And after that, I’ll order you dinner.”

“Fuck, Beast!” You pant, your eyes rolling in the back of your head. "Whatever you fucking say - ooh!" Your open palm slaps against the wall as you try to run. But his grip is too strong.

Instead he simply chuckles before pausing his feast long enough to press one hot, open-mouthed kiss to your inner thigh - his teeth scraping over your damp flesh as he takes you higher and higher.

“And while we wait, I’m gonna go ahead feed you my cock.” He quips with a feral flash of teeth. “And don’t worry, I’ll make sure you eat every bite.”

END

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tremendum · 9 months ago

Text

heaven is a place on earth; joel miller

prologue; im a loser, baby!

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:

au (pre-outbreak, altered ages), Joel Miller x fem!nanny!reader. dedicated to the anon who suggested this trope.

↬ series masterlist main masterlist

↬ it's 2000. you're freshly single, three weeks away from being evicted, and your coworker knows a hot, single dad who is hiring for a nanny. you'll take anything you can get.

↬ warnings; tagged 18+ for eventual smut and mature themes. MDNI. age gap (reader is 22, joel is 35), fiscal anxieties, allusions to a shitty ex. if your name is michelle, norah, or dan, you get to be twins with my ocs in this series <;33

series mixtape, song one; Loser, Beck. 1994.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:

"fuck."

your voice hisses through the rows of books you stalk down, legs carrying you with fervor towards the front desk. "fuck, fuck, fuck!"

you whirl past a mother reading a children's book to her toddler and wince at your language, mouthing sorry! at the baby as you pass. avoiding the harsh glare of its mother, you mutter under your breath. "shit."

in your hurry, your hip slams into the wooden corner of the front desk; a small grunt of pain hisses through your clenched teeth as you trudge up to your swivel chair.

"god, damn it!" you bemoan, lowering yourself into your chair and sighing heavily as you drop your head to your hands.

"so...it can't be good news." Michelle says to you, quietly, as she grimaces apologetically to the mother who walks towards the exit, shielding her stupid baby's ears from your foul mouth. you ignore the woman's harsh look of judgement, instead biting your lip, willing yourself to calm down.

with a suck of deep breath you shake your head. "no, it is not."

she sends you a consolatory look and to this you groan, "the rent's too much here. thought I'd get this one, I really did." you mutter helplessly, picking up several of the books from the drop bin to check them back in on your computer. "they made me endure four interviews. all for nothing."

a consolatory hand graces your shoulder and you offer your coworker a small smile of gratitude. she sends you a smile so hopeful that you nearly forget the desperate state you're in - the heavy fear of starting new.

"we'll find you a good one. you're smart, marketable, charming..." Michelle shakes her head as you move to protest, pointing at you. "-no, don't even start. we'll get you some more interviews. in the meantime...Dan and I were thinking. we have a couple hundred we could spare this month, just to..." she glances at your shocked stare, shrugging her shoulders. "-you know, get you on your feet. it's not easy to restart, especially after a breakup."

your heart drops at her words, a crawling feeling of shame licking your throat as you shake your head.

eyes stinging, you stare down hard at your keyboard, where your nails pick at the F key. "I couldn't- I couldn't ask that of you. thank you, but I-" you shake your head. "don't do that, really Michelle."

she waves her hand, "we insist. but Dan wants to discuss it in person, so we'll be having you over for dinner soon, okay?" she insists, and you hide your burning face between your hands. "this is too much." you say with a grumble, shaking your head.

"think of it as a gift." she says hopefully with a shrug. "your birthday's soon, isn't it?"

you sigh, smiling over at her as you shake your head. "at least let me do something for you in repayment. do you need any rooms painted? gardening? babysitting?" you offer, sliding slightly towards her to take a sip of her coffee.

"we'll talk about it." she agrees, but you know she isn't going to ask you to do any of it; she and her husband are much too kind.

at your silence she just hums triumphantly, typing away on her keyboard as she files a damaged book report. the library hums with its inherent stillness, the fluorescents flickering as you busy yourself filing your own work for the evening.

five whole minutes pass in silence; a feat for you and the woman who sits just beside you. as you work idly, your eyes jump back to the payphone on the wall across the room where you'd heard the words: thank you for your interest, but we decided to go with another candidate.

whatever. they don't deserve you, anyways. and honestly, the job had shitty benefits.

a sharp sigh from you gives Michelle the narrow opportunity to swivel her chair to face you, as if she'd been waiting for an opportunity to speak.

"you know," she puts on the look of innocence, "I was thinking..."

you fix her with a look - the last few suggestions for money she'd given you were take up dancing (which you would certainly consider, if the nearest club wasn't fourteen miles away) or marry rich. for a woman who's still with the same man she was with in high school, she sure has an imaginative mind.

you're a month away from losing your new apartment and you cannot fathom moving back in with your ex; you'll take anything. Michelle holds her hands out in defense at your glare. "listen, Norah's got a teammate whose father is looking for a nanny."

you let the words sink in as you spin your chair to her in interest. nanny?

"-he owns a construction business. he mentioned looking for a nanny for weekdays at the girls' tournament last Saturday."

you sigh, touched that she'd thought of you, but exasperated. "I work weekdays!" you sigh. she lifts a brow, leaning closer, "yes, but..." she looks around conspiratorially, "-I think Joel would give you higher pay - and you can still work here on weekends."

your brows raise in shock, hope growing in your chest. "what, is he loaded?"

at this, she laughs.

you blink as she holds a hand to her chest, chuckling to herself, leaving you unaware of whatever was so funny to her. "no, no." she calms herself as you stare, less amused. "-but he loves his girl. definitely the type of man who will pay well to make sure his baby's safe."

your lip is tugged between your teeth as you consider; "kids don't really like me."

it’s not even true- kids love you as much as you love them, but something self-sabotaging within you begs to differ.

Michelle snorts, "Norah loves you." she counters; you cross your arms, "well, that's different. she's, like, an eleven year old version of you."

she grins at this; Michelle has known you since you were a sophomore, just freshly out of the dorms - she may be older than you by over a decade and a half, but she and her husband are the closest to family you have in this part of the country.

you nod. "please, will you give him my information? I need any money I can get. I'll be the best nanny in the world."

you're convincing yourself more than her, but she smiles all the same. "I'll see him when I pick Norah up after practice this afternoon. I'll share your number with him, okay?"

you have the next day off of work; you spend it unpacking some boxes and organizing, taking a walk around the new neighborhood, trying to befriend the building cat with a can of tuna.

you watch people pass in the street, distracting yourself from the disappointment of leaving your old neighborhood, even if it'd been infested by your cheating ex.

the opportunity to nanny this summer lingers in the back of your mind as you walk past a park, watching as the kids clamber and scream and laugh; you smile to yourself, watching a young mother push a child on the swing.

sometime past noon, an unknown number texts your cellphone and you pause the TiVo to flip it open eagerly.

Hey there, it's Joel Miller. Our mutual friend Michelle passed along your number. I've been looking for a nanny for my daughter and heard great things about you. Would you be open to chatting sometime this week? I'd love to discuss a nannying opportunity with Sarah. Let me know if that works for you.

Thanks, Joel

you stare at the words, reading them slowly with a pounding of excitement in your chest. suddenly, the walls of your new, too-expensive apartment seem brighter, the sun opens up the sky - you nearly call Michelle in a burst of excitement before even thinking of a response.

an inkling of doubt pulls at the back of your head; the man seems kind enough - even if he texts like he's a hundred years old, Michelle and Dan know him personally. you slide your phone, staring at the phone screen for a moment before starting to type out a response.

Hi Joel! Nice to hear from you, thanks for reaching out. I'd be happy to meet this week to chat about Sarah and nannying opportunities. I am available in the evenings most days, so if there's any time that works best for you, I can make that happen.

knuckles cramping, you roll your eyes at your effort to be professional over text. you tweak your message several times before signing your name, shutting your eyes, and hitting the send button.

Joel doesn't respond until very late; nearly eleven in the evening, suggesting a time later in the week and telling you his address. Michelle is ecstatic for you, even helping you draft up ways to tell your boss you'll be going part-time in a professional way; it's accepted gracefully, and now all you have to do is hope this Joel Miller can pay enough.

he hires you an hour after meeting up.

to your relief, his daughter Sarah is a darling; big eyes and a bright smile that hides no malicious intent or snobbery. your anxiety slipped away the moment Joel opens their front door, replaced instead with flustered surprise in your lower belly at the man who stood before you.

why hadn't Michelle at least warned you?

he's taller than you'd imagined, and much more handsome; his dark hair is slightly tousled, a faint hint of stubble framing his jawline, biceps defined by a dark gray shhirt. he's curt but chivalrous, voice a low baritone and veins that trickle up his thick forearms golden skin glowing as he talks.

and jesus christ, his eyes - the memory of how they'd scaled over your body, taking you in as you'd stood in the dying sunlight on his doorstep that first time. dragging slowly, eyes dark and shrouded by long lashes, as you'd introduced yourself. how he'd cleared his throat and let you through with a half smile and a nod.

you'd had to try your hardest to keep your eyes on his as he explained he'd need you most weekdays because he has several new projects and has been working longer hours recently.

it took Sarah all of a minute and a half of shyness and hiding behind her father's leg before you showed her your tamagotchi; immediately after, she decided you were new best friends - with her hand in yours, she eagerly showed around the house in a half-intentional tour, pointing out the best hide and seek spots and showing you her collection of toys.

by the end of the evening, Joel was shaking your hand and agreeing on a bi-weekly payment much higher than you'd expected.

he'd insisted on walking you to your beat-up car, smiling as he opened your driver's door with a shrug - it's dark out, don't want to let my new sitter walk alone at night, do I?

you'd tried your hardest to keep your thoughts professional, but the moment your head fell to your pillow that night, you knew you were fucked.

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up next: chapter 01 ; as long as you don't care there is no longer a taglist; follow @tremendumnotifs to be notified when i post.

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#joel miller smut #joel x reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel smut #joel the last of us #joel tlou #joel miller series #heaven is a place on earth; tremendum

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