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thechaoticcherub · 2 months ago

Text

More Than Air

Pairing: Dad!Joel x female reader

Summary: The power is cut in your apartment in the Boston QZ, your dad, Joel wants to keep you warm and teach you a few things.

Warnings: 18+, Incest, DDDNE(dead dove do not eat), Legal age gap, Dubcon, daddy kink(?), Virgin!reader, Joel is REALLY icky, innocence kink, male masturbation, fingering, bordering on size kink, emotions, lots of feelings, pet names, reader is not described besides having boobs, hair and a vagina, no use of y/n.

notes: OOF. Okay I'm diving head first into this. This is an icky, gross, incest fic and I'm not sorry. I'm going to get hate for it but eh, I write whats fun and idc if it disturbs people...when it comes down to it, you have to take responsibility for what you consume. if this isn't for you, move along and thats fine. Don't come whining to me about how you hate it. anyway! I hope that if this is your jam, you enjoy! Also: obviously, I do not condone this in reality. Fiction is fiction and doesn't hurt anyone.

Also I'm going to thank my friend @strang3lov3 for being my dad!joel buddy and giving me the guts to keep writing him.

Word Count: 5k

The first time Dad actually crossed a line with you was a year into living in the Boston QZ. You had never known you could feel such a strange mix of emotions; anger, disgust, excitement and a deep, abiding admiration and love for the man who had been your maker and savior. Joel had been finding himself deeper and deeper into the smuggling world here in Boston but you only knew this because of what you had picked up from others, and what you overheard. Joel closed you out of that part of his life, which was his whole life, and only told you what was absolutely necessary.

Before the night where everything changed, shifting into a different and more confusing plane of existence, there had been little moments that sent shivers cascading through your body. His eyes lingering on your body when you scamper to your room from your shared bathroom after a chilly shower. Joel had noticed the way your shirts fit you, taking note that you really weren’t his little girl anymore,

“Aint ya got a a shirt that covers you more?” He asked while you sat at the table and ate your plain, gloopy oatmeal.

“It’s the end of the world, Dad. My choices are pretty limited,” You responded. You watched his eyes slip down, noticing where your shirt gaped and showed off your cleavage.

“Just…never realized what a woman you are now,” He commented, sipping his coffee as he unabashedly examined your chest. You tugged your shirt up, and pulled a face at the comment,

“Don’t say that, Dad, ’s’weird.” You said, but there was a small part of you, a part you didn’t like to look at too closely that liked that he had noticed.

There had even been a time where he came to wake you up one morning and waited around while you started to get changed. You had urged him to leave,

“Dad, I’m changing!”

“I’ve seen it all before, kiddo.” He griped, leaning against the doorframe and watching you peel off the sweatshirt you slept in and turn away from him so all he could see was your back. You shifted uncomfortably, you had always been a little innocent, too trusting, gullible almost but this just felt wrong. But even in the wrongness of it you found a spark light up inside you that made you arch your back a little when you hooked your bra behind your back, knowing his eyes were on you.

“You don’t need to make sure I get dressed, I’m not a little kid.” You mumbled as he turned back to him, pulling your shirt on over your bra.

“Cut me some slack,” he said, “You’re always goin’ to be my little girl,” He smiled as you crossed your arms over your chest and stalked towards the door. Joel grabbed your waist as you passed him and squeezed, making you giggle.

But before the night that FEDRA cut the power to your block of apartments it had never really crossed a line. He had never touched you or done anything of the sort. Maybe if it hadn’t been a cold winter night whatever tension that had been building in your father wouldn’t have snapped. Maybe if FEDRA hadn’t been needing to conserve energy you would still be the completely innocent girl you once were. Maybe it just came down to this being cordyceps fault, like everything else. Daddy would have just been a word you had called Joel growing up, sex would have been something you learned from a college boy, fumbling in a dorm, not from the broken man you called father.

No use dwelling in what ifs. It was the what ifs that would kill you if you let them in this infected and decaying world.

There hadn’t been a complete blackout since summer and it was an especially cold winter night so it didn’t take long for the whole apartment to chill when the power went out. But it wasn’t until around 2 AM when the cold in your room became unbearable. You were shivering under the weight of two quilts when your door opened,

“Dad?” You asked, turning your head to look at the broad shape of your father in the darkened doorway.

“It’s too cold to sleep alone, babygirl, scoot over.” He said. You immediately felt uncomfortable at the idea of sharing a bed with your father. You never would have thought twice about it in the before times but things had felt so different, so shadowy, and strange now. You moved over to accept Joel into the space next to you.

“Why did they do this now?” You whined, as Joel lifted the quilts, causing cold air to rush in. He slid his big body into the space next to you.

“I dunno, darlin’ to torture us but I’m sure they’d give some bullshit explanation like conserving energy,” He griped, settling down close to you. You had a double bed which was plenty big for you but now with Joel it felt tiny and his body felt inescapable. You swallowed back your anxiety and reminded yourself that this was your dad, the man who had raised you and protected you, saved your life on many occasions. There was no real reason to be scared of his touch.

You started to relax and even as you did, you wondered if you were so tense because of him or because of you. You were lying on your back, looking up at the ceiling, cursing your own feelings as Joel jostled in the bed more,

“Make some more room, hon, you ain’t that big you don’t need to hog.” He said. You grumbled and rolled over onto your side, facing away from him.

“It’s fuckin’ freezin,” he added, tugging the quilts up higher. You felt him turn so he was curled towards you, scooting closer, you could feel his front pressed into your back. He was warm, delightfully so, you couldn’t help but tuck yourself close to him. “Atta girl,” he breathed, reaching up and brushing your hair back away from your face so he could see you a little better. You hummed out a soft noise as you finally felt comfortable in the bed, his warmth mixing with yours to make it decently pleasant under the covers. “You jus’ go to sleep while your old man tries to finally warm up,” Joel half laughed. You smiled and let your eyes drift closed.

Waking up, you thought it must have been close to morning but as you opened your eyes finally you realized it was just as dark as before and the apartment was quiet. Your dad was behind you still, his hand had made its way to your belly, his big fingers stretched out, thumb just under your breast bone, pinky reaching down towards your belly button. He had you in a possessive grip, fingers digging into your flesh. As you struggled out of your hazy sleep state you could feel rapid motion behind you.

Your whole body stiffened and Joel’s grip tightened on you, you knew what he was doing behind you, you could feel the jeans he had laid down to go to sleep in were unbuckled, the hand not on your tummy was tucked into his pants and he was touching himself. And now he was aware that you were awake, you started to try and move away from him, wanting to get out from under the blankets despite how cold it was outside. Joel’s hand tightened on your stomach and he pulled you back towards him,

“Don’t you go anywhere, sweetheart. It’s too cold out there,” He breathed, as if he wasn’t touching his dick right behind you, as if he wasn’t your father masturbating while holding onto you. Your brow knit in confusion but at the same time, your body warmed even further. There was heat in your cheeks that was mirrored in your belly, the low down part of your belly and even lower than that, the part of your body that had rarely been explored and had been left abandoned due to the apocalypse.

“Dad!’” You gasped out as he held you back.

“I’m sorry, babygirl,” He said, and his voice sounded truly regretful. “Just let Daddy do this,” He said, he tugged you back and you felt your butt pressed into his crotch. You were jostled by his hand moving inside his pants. You let out a nervous whimper,

“Dad, this…this is weird-“ You tried to swallow back the feeling of strange need you had, the need to experimentally push your hips back and feel him more.

“I know it feels funny, I’m sorry.” Joel breathed into your ear, his hand speeding up. “But I’m just…just lovin’ on you, peanut,” He spoke. You twisted yourself so you were laying on your back again, staring up at the ceiling. Your heart hammered in your chest and you couldn’t parse out what was disgust and what was excitement rising up inside of you. Your lower lip trembled, it was overwhelming to feel so many things all at once. Joel must have noticed your glassy eyes, and your trembling lip because a calm came over his body and he tugged his hand from his pants.

“Babygirl,” he reached up and took your chin in his fingers, “Don’t cry, I’m sorry.” While he still sounded truly remorseful for his violation, it didn’t seem like it was the end. You wanted to be upset that you could tell more was going to happen but you couldn’t help but notice relief wash through you. You wanted more and that thought horrified you.

“I’m sorry, but you do have to learn this stuff sometime…and who better to teach ya than your old man?” He leaned over you and pressed a delicate kiss to your cheek. You had felt him kiss you so many times, your lips when you were a very little girl, your cheek, the top of your head, and forehead as your grew up but this felt so different. Like a lover places kisses against the skin of their paramore, not the way a father loves his daughter. It both made you cringe and tingled, adding to the warmth in your belly.

“Daddy,” You said, your voice came out sounding weak and whiny, not like the voice you typically used, even with him. You hadn’t called him ‘daddy’ since you were small, and now you were grown up and the childish word sounded horribly sexual in your mouth. You were unsure of your every move, you questioned all of your feelings but Joel seemed so sure of himself, even as he apologized, as if he knew this was bad behavior but it had to happen. Joel reached under the blankets to the hem of your shirt and started to tug it up, you instinctively put your hand on his to stop him,

“Shh, peanut.” He said, “I’m just goin’ to take a quick look. I know it can be scary, but you’re my brave girl, aint ya?” You watched him smile encouragingly. He was so handsome and it warmed you through so you loosend your grip on his hand. Joel pulled the shirt up to expose your naked breasts to him, the air in the bedroom was frigid so goosebumps erupted on your chest, puckering the skin around your nipples and making them harden. You shivered and whimpered. Joel scooted closer to you, “Lets just get this off of you,” Joel murmured, barely speaking to you, just mumbling the words to himself as he pulled the shirt off of your head.

“There’s my girl,” He said. “Ya know, I ain’t seen your whole body since you grew up, darlin’” His fingers dragged down your chest and excitement and heat bubbled up and then the shame squashed it a little. Disgusting. Terrible. Naughty but needed. Joel looked down at you, you could barely meet his eyes, but he didn’t seem to mind, he was examining your chest. “Didn’t realize just how beautiful the girl I made was,” his fingers traced over one of your nipples, circling the hardened point. You shuddered at the feeling and he smiled at your reaction.

“Dad,” You said, your voice trembled over the word. “This feels-“ He cut you off by pinching your nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

“I know, I’m sorry,” He said, “Daddy’s jus’ got to give you a little lovin’ so you understand,” he said. You wanted to tell him that you did understand, that you didn’t need to understand anymore but your body was betraying you because his fingers did feel good and the heat in your tummy was building. “Plus it’s still so cold, and if we get undressed we’ll get warmer,” he convinced. Undressed? More undressed than this? Did he mean he wanted to be naked too? The thought of your dad, in your small bed, pressed so close to you made you feel so many emotions you couldn’t focus on one in particular.

Joel’s pants were already undone, it was easy for him to slip them off and you watched, unable to stop him as he did so, lifting his hips to get them down his legs and then kicking them off. You could feel the heat of his lower body now and you knew there was the heavy presence of his cock right next to you, almost pressed into your pajama clad hip.

Joel was lying on his side, his eyes roaming over your bare chest, he moved closer and closer to you until he was wedged against your side. Your dad’s dick was pressed into your side but you hadn’t looked. You hadn’t turned your head towards him. You couldn’t, you felt like if you looked at him, this would all be real and you would have to actually face it.

It was getting warmer and warmer under the covers and you wished so badly you didn’t love the feeling as much as you did. Joel reached out and his big hand cupped one of your tits, “Fuck,” Joel breathed as his fingers dug into your flesh, dimpling the skin under his fingers. “Let’s get your pajama pants off of you, babygirl.” Joel rolled over so he was on top of you, he pushed your legs open enough to accommodate his body between them. You whined and closed your eyes, it felt too wrong to look up into the face of your dad while he was just in his dirty flannel shirt, his cock out, so you found every excuse to keep your eyes away.

“Look at me, peanut. Look at your Daddy,” He told you. Your heart skipped a beat, making you squirm in pleasure and embarrassment. Reluctantly, you opened your eyes to gaze up at him, his eyes were wild, his hair was a mess and you knew if you dropped your eyes you’d see his cock hard and angry with need. Joel seemed like a man possessed. Possessed with a need for you, his daughter, his sweet little girl. In the darkest corners of your mind, you loved that. You loved you could make him look like that.

“Lift your hips up,” He instructed. You pressed your hips up and felt his fingers dig into the side of your pajama pants and underwear, he gave them a tug, pulling them off of you. The cold air hit your body and you shivered. “I know it’s cold,” Joel whispered. “We’ll warm up together,” Joel told you. Your brow knit,

“Daddy,” you whined, squirming underneath him and closing your legs. “This is embarrassing,” You mumbled.

“No,” Joel said, his voice turning stern. “Don’t be embarrassed of your pretty body, Daddy’s going to appreciate every inch of ya,” He took your knees and pushed them open more, eyes glued to your pussy. You squirmed at the feeling of his gaze on your most intimate part and you looked up at him, trying to convince yourself that this was so wrong, that you needed to push him away and say no but you didn’t want to. You wanted to feel him. The desire for him was too strong. He was familiar, strong, everything a man should be and you wanted him. No matter how much you wished you could fight it off, no matter how much you felt disgusted by him, by your own needs, you wanted to explore his body.

“You ever had an orgasm, babygirl?” he asked, his fingers dragged from your knee down your thigh towards your bare pussy. You were taken aback by the question, orgasms weren’t something you thought about anymore. You felt a little anger that he felt like he could ask that question, but you were naked and splayed out in front of him, of course he felt like he could ask. You didn’t say anything, “C’mon, peanut. You can tell Daddy the truth, I won’t be mad.” He encouraged.

“Yes, just by myself,” You told him, “Not for a long time though,” You tried to remember the last time you had felt like this, this rush of excitement, wetness building in your core and heat burning through you.

“Poor girl,” Joel rubbed over your hip and stroked the backs of his fingers down your pubic bone, feeling the hair there, stroking over it. Your heart felt like it was going to stop at any second. Like it would beat so hard that it would just explode from the fear and longing that was working you up into what felt like a frenzy. “Daddy can help make you feel better,” he huffed as he scooted down a little to get a better angle to touch you.

Joel’s fingers slipped over your slit and you realized how wet you had gotten from your own fucking father, everything felt like it was melting away from you. You felt like you were losing sight of reality, partially because it felt so good and partially because of how horrible it was that you liked this.

Joel tsked under his breath as he gathered your wetness on his fingers, “God girl, you make a mess a’yourself like this often?” He asked with a chuckle. The sound of it eased some of the fear in you, it felt familiar to joke with him, even though his touch like this felt so completely unfamiliar.

“N-no,” you managed. You shivered again in the cold air as his other hand joined the one stroking your slit and gently started to spread your lips open. You instantly squirmed at the feeling and tried to close your knees.

“Aw c’mon, peanut, your daddy wants to see what he’s doin’, it’ll feel good.” He coaxed your legs back open and you whined in a feeble protest,

“But Dad, it’s…I’m-“

“None of that bashfulness shit, you think I’ve never seen a pussy before?” He asked. You opened your mouth but he cut you off, “How the fuck do ya think you got here?” That shut you up instantly. You let him spread your pussy lips open, his eyes focused on your wet cunt spread out in front of him.

It was so cold in the room you were thankful that your feet were still tucked under the blanket but the rest of you was covered with goosebumps, even your pussy started to get the little bumps as you shivered, despite the heat inside your body.

“That’s my good girl,” he purred as his fingers started to stroke up and down you spread pussy, not quite touching your clit but grazing around it. He knew exactly how to touch you, he knew exactly what you needed in each second. “How’s that, peanut?” He asked, looking at your face twisting in pleasure and then back down at your pussy that he was keeping spread open and softly stroking.

“So…s-so good.” You squeaked out, pressing your hips up, wanting him to stroke your clit properly but knowing he was doing everything with the clear purpose of working you up.

“That’s right,” Joel nodded, “Daddy’s got ya,” he said. “I knew you needed some lovin’” he breathed. The pad of his pointer finger grazed along your clit and it made you convulse, you felt so sensitive there, it had been so long since you had given it any attention. Joel chuckled, “That your special spot, right there?” he asked, teasing around it again. You whined, unable to form words as he teased your clit. He knew it was your clit, he could see that but him confirming that it was special wormed into your brain. He understood that was how you liked it, that your favorite, your special favorite, was having your clit gently played with.

“Dad,” You moaned, you reached out to him, wanting to grab hold of any part of his body. You came in contact with his bare knee and you dug your fingers into it.

“I know,” he said, “It feels good, don’t it?” he asked around a smile, you nodded and took a deep, shuddering breath. His fingers lovingly stroked around your clit, teasing you, bringing you closer and closer to a release you hadn’t felt in so long. You were so close, teetering there on the edge of bliss but then Joel pulled his fingers back, dropping his other hand too, leaving you desperate for more.

“Daddy!” You whined out, you wondered if he was doing this on purpose, making you ask for an orgasm from your own father. You watched his familiar features turn to worry at the whine in your voice,

“What is it, honey?” He asked in mock concern, he knew how frustrated you were, how much you wanted to come and he was teasing you anyway.

“I-I…I want more-“ you whined, pressing your hips up, it was harrowing to admit it outlaid. You watched Joel nod, the look of fake concern still plastered on his face.

“I know you do,” he half laughed, breaking through the concern. “Daddy’s still got stuff to teach ya,” He stroked down the lips of your pussy again to your entrance. You stiffened again as you felt him starting to push his middle finger inside of you. “I know it’s tight, babygirl.” His dark eyes met yours and you tried to express everything you were feeling to him through just a look. Joel had always been able to know what was wrong with you at just a glance and he had always been there to take care of whatever the problem was. You wanted him to understand the uncertainty, the desperate need and the horror at your own desires. When your eyes met, he softened slightly at the sight of the expression,“I’m sorry,” He said and you wondered how sorry he actually was. Was he sorry for teasing you? For making you need it? For all of it? “I just wanna be the one to teach my little girl all this,” he said, his voice was rough and earnest but his finger nudged again at your entrance. “It’ll probably hurt a little but I’ll go slow for ya,” he started to push his finger into you again. There was a little pain, but you were soaked and his finger slipped in fairly easily. Your cunt stretched to accommodate the thickness of your father’s finger and you longed for more at the same time as you wished you had the will to push him away. “I know, babygirl.” He said, trying to placate you. “C’mere, give me a kiss, it’ll make it feel better.” He leaned over you while his finger worked its way inside of you and pressed his lips to yours. Your heart lept into your throat. The thrill of a kiss that was so utterly forbidden was too much. You were a revolting girl. Revolting for how much you liked it. You found yourself kissing him back while he worked you open with his finger. Joel pumped his finger in and out of you, your cunt tightened around him with each thrust. You moaned into his mouth, lips parting enough for his tongue to press inside of your mouth, teasing your tongue.

“Dad,” You said as he pulled back, “Dad, it feels so good,” You said it like you couldn’t believe it, like if you didn’t get more you might go completely insane. Joel stroked your cheek with his free hand,

“I know, I’m goin’ to make you come around my fingers.” He assured you. You nodded, looking down between your bodies, his cock was hard between his legs, neglected while he paid attention to you. You had never seen a cock in real life before, your mouth hung open as you looked at it. At the same time, Joel’s thumb nudged against your clit, sending a spasm of pleasure through you.

“Daddy,” You gasped, Joel noticed your gaze on him and he chuckled.

“You see Daddy’s cock?” he asked. You nodded, your mouth hanging open in awe at it. Joel let his free hand drop to his cock and started to stroke it, showing it off to you. His cock was so big, imagining it inside of you made you squirm against his finger. Joel kept pumping his finger in and out of you, curling it up to stroke you from the inside while his thumb stroked over your clit in tantalizing circles. It was overwhelmingly good and now you couldn’t take your eyes off the mesmerizing sight of your father stroking his cock up and down, lavishing attention around the dusky head. Joel laughed again and your eyes snapped up to his face,

“You want your daddy’s cock, dont ya?” he asked. You squirmed, you couldn’t admit it, that was a horrible, disgusting thing to want but you couldn’t deny your body’s reaction. “Awww,” he laughed, “I can feel how bad you want it, peanut. You’re clenchin’ down on my finger- oh are you goin’ to come?” Joel was surprised by the way your face twisted, the way your whole body tightened. “C’mon, tell Daddy,” He growled. You nodded, unable to form words anymore as his finger filled you up repeatedly and his thumb teased your clit. “That’s my good girl, daddy’s got ya,” he breathed. The tension inside of you snapped, like spring finally releasing and you came around his fingers, gasping, the heat from your cunt seemed to spread up, enveloping you as you started to shake through your orgasm.

“Oh god, Daddy!” You moaned, watching now as Joel touched himself in earnest. “Daddy…daddy I wanna…” You started to babble almost incoherently, “I want your co-cock, Daddy, please give it to me—I…I need it.” You whined, not even fully realizing what you were saying. Tears pricked your eyes as you admitted your most shameful thoughts. Joel seemed to love the sound of you pleading with him, his hand tightened on his cock, pumping it up and down above you. He sat up on his knees and you desperately reached out for his cock, but your needy fingers were met with his hand closing around your wrist.

“No, no, no, little girl.” He said. “Not yet. Your little pussy isn’t ready for Daddy’s big cock yet,” he explained. You let out an angry whine and wanted to hide away from him, to reel back from him in frustration. As if reading your mind, he reached out and grabbed your hip, “Nuh-uh, stay right there. I want somethin’ to come on,” He growled. Your lower lip trembled, you felt so disgusted with yourself and still so needy that sob built in your chest. It was threatening to burst out, but you didn’t want to ruin it for him. Tears spilled out of your eyes as Joel continued to work his hand up and down his cock.

“Aw poor girl, I know Daddy’s bein’ mean,” he fucked into his own fist, teasing you with the visual of his cock gliding in and out of his hand faster and fast. You watched Joel’s facial expression change, tiny micro-expressions of pain, lust, desperation, anger and intense desire flitted over his features, or maybe it was just feral need. Determination to find his orgasm, but the words he choked out next made you sure there had been moments of real pain in his expression,

“I’m s-sorry,” He actually sounded sorry, sorry for so much. Sorry for the world that you were living in, sorry that his pain and suffering had turned into darkness that had nursed a need for you, his daughter. His heart, soul, flesh and blood. Sorry that he had decided it was time to act on it. Sorry that you enjoyed every depraved fucking second. “You goin’…goin’ to look so pretty with my come painted on your tummy,” he groaned and watched him squeeze around the head of his cock and direct it down as thick ropes of his spend spilled out over your tummy and pubic bone. You let out a sob as he groaned through his pleasure. “Fuck,” he breathed as you cried. “I’m so sorry, babygirl. Let Daddy hold ya,” he said even as he came down from his own high.

“Aw, peanut, you’re freezing,” He said as he wrapped his arms around you and gathered you up. He kissed the side of your head, “Daddy’s sorry, so sorry. Felt so good.” He shuddered and tugged the quilts up around the two of you. You took a deep breath of his familiar, comforting smell and allowed yourself to relax against him, he squeezed you tighter as he felt you relax.

“Do you love me, dad?” You asked, unsure of why you needed the reassurance more than anything now but you asked and waited for his answer.

“More than air, peanut.” He breathed.

“I love you too,” You said even as your naked body warmed against your father’s under the quilt and his come dried on your skin.

#joel miller #joel miller imagine #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfic #joel miller smut #joel #joel miller headcanons #tlou fanfiction #tlou fanfic #tlou #the last of us #tw: incest #writing #dad!joel

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bigfatbimbo · 6 months ago

Note

INSIDE JOB KCFFPKAFRDJATS

I need me some more Subby Brett Hand fics like omggg I already read all the ones I could find

—

Denying Brett an orgasm for like the millionth time and he tears up????

👀<3

a/n — Brett Hand my baby girl, I’d do anything for you. Anyways, I have reagan fics after this one.

warnings — Dom!reader, fem reader, Brett calls reader mommy

summary — Series of Sub!Brett headcanons, and then a drabble

ᯓ★ This man is so submissive, I will never understand how people write him as a dom, he is a subtop at best.

ᯓ★ Desperate for approval on an ungodly level, so this translates to a killer praise kink.

ᯓ★ He will need all the reassurance in the world that he’s making you feel good and that your actually enjoying him.

ᯓ★ “Good boy, Brett” He will automatically be on the edge, trying not to cum immediately. You really think so? You really think he’s doing good? He’s eating it up.

ᯓ★ Nowhere near unexperienced, the man was on a frat club in college. But that does imply that ‘making him feel loved’ was not on his party-hookups agenda.

ᯓ★ This basically means that being gentle with him would be a huge turn-on. Yes please make him feel comfortable, tell him how pretty he looks, tell him just how much you like him.

ᯓ★ Would call you mommy. He grew up getting no attention any authority’s figures in his life and now your doting on him and taking care of him? It just slips out!

ᯓ★ Ready to try most of anything, like anything you wanna do. Even if he doesn’t actually like the idea, but most times he would because it’s you.

“W-wait please, I really need to cum this time—“ Brett begged, looking up at you with a desperate look, hair sticking to the sweat on his forehead.

“I know, baby. And you’ve been so good for me,” you coo as he answers with a short whine, “But mommy’s not done with you yet, so you’re just gonna have to wait.”

”’m sorry mommy, i-i’m trying but— Oh fuck..”

He stops himself with a low whimper as you drag your finger along the base of his cock, while positioning yourself over him.

You were going to… ride him? He couldn’t handle that in this state, you had to know that! You’d denied him plenty of other times that night, but this seemed almost mean.

He’d have to hold himself back though, as he was terrified of you being upset with him.

You plopped yourself down on his cock, ignoring the tears that instantaneously bubbles in his eyes, “My good boy, you’re taking it all so well.”

He whined, “It’s— god, it’s so much— please, I need to— Aah!” you roll your hips suddenly fast, practically jamming his cock in your pussy, before slowly down. A tear rolled down Brett’s face, and then another.

“Aw, sh sh,” You lean down and wipe the tears path off his cheek, and then plant a kiss.

“Don’t cry, I know you can handle it. I know you can handle more than this.”

#inside job x reader #inside job x you #brett hand x you #brett hand x reader #dom reader #sub male character #x reader #inside job brett x reader #inside job #smut x reader

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shybluebirdninja · 7 months ago

Text

The Great Outdoors

Summary: Logan takes you on a camping trip, but his survival skills are hilariously outdated.

Pairing : Logan Howlett x Fem!Human-reader

Genre : Fluff

The sun was already dipping low behind the trees when Logan parked the truck. He got out like he was about to conquer the wild, while you stood there, looking at the woods and trying not to laugh at the seriousness on his face. Logan wasn’t the camping type—or at least, not the “modern” kind. He was more like the “rough it with nothing but your fists and claws” type.

This was going to be interesting.

“So, what’s the plan, Bear Grylls?” you teased, slinging your backpack over your shoulder.

Logan grunted, pulling out a rolled-up tent from the back of the truck. “Survive. That’s the plan.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Wow, so detailed. I feel so prepared.”

“Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’ve done this a hundred times. Just follow my lead, and we’ll be fine.”

Oh, boy.

You made your way into the clearing Logan had apparently scoped out beforehand. It wasn’t bad, actually—nice little spot near a river, surrounded by trees that rustled softly in the evening breeze. As soon as you set your stuff down, Logan got to work... sort of.

He started with the tent. You watched him as he unfolded it, frowning like the damn thing had personally offended him. “These damn things get more complicated every year,” he muttered, trying to shove a pole into one of the sleeves.

“Need some help?” you asked, biting your lip to keep from laughing as he wrestled with it.

“Nah, I got it,” he grumbled, jamming the pole so hard it almost snapped.

Five minutes later, the tent was half-collapsed, one corner flapping in the wind, and Logan was cursing under his breath.

“I think it’s supposed to stand up, Logan.”

He shot you a look, then glanced back at the tent. “It’s fine. I’m just, uh... testing its durability.”

You let out a snort, shaking your head. “Right. Maybe you should just let me handle that.”

“I’m a grown-ass man,” he muttered, glaring at the tent like it had insulted his mother.

“Yeah, and you’re losing a fight to a piece of nylon.”

After another moment of watching him struggle, you stepped in and started putting the thing together while Logan, not exactly one for sitting still, decided to gather firewood. He disappeared into the woods with nothing but his claws, because why bring a hatchet when you’re Logan?

By the time he came back, arms full of sticks and logs, the tent was up and looking perfect. You leaned against it, smirking as he dropped the wood into a pile.

“See?” you said, gesturing to the tent. “That’s how it’s done.”

Logan grunted, clearly not impressed. “Yeah, yeah. Let’s see you start a fire.”

You crossed your arms. “Watch and learn, old man.”

He grinned, that dangerous little glint in his eye. “Oh, you’re gonna regret that.”

Logan, being Logan, didn’t just gather some twigs and light them with a match like a normal person. No, that would’ve been too easy. Instead, he pulled out his claws and crouched next to the fire pit, sparks flying as he struck them against a rock.

“Logan, that’s not how—”

Whoosh!

The pile of wood lit up like someone had dumped gasoline on it. Flames shot up higher than you thought possible, and you stumbled back, laughing your ass off while Logan jumped up, cursing.

“Goddammit!” He swiped his claws through the air, trying to beat the flames down. “I meant to do that.”

“Oh, sure,” you choked out between laughs, wiping at your eyes. “That’s the perfect height for roasting marshmallows, right?”

Logan glared at the mini-bonfire for a second, then at you. “Next time, you can light the damn thing.”

You couldn’t stop laughing, the sound of it bouncing around the trees. Logan finally cracked a smile, though he tried to hide it behind a gruff mutter.

After some careful maneuvering (read: Logan finally letting you fix the fire), you both settled down for the evening. The fire was low, crackling softly, the night air cool around you. Stars were starting to peek through the darkening sky, and the only sounds were the soft hum of the forest and Logan chewing on beef jerky.

You leaned back against a log, holding your hands out to the fire. “So, what now? Gonna show me your impressive ghost story collection?”

Logan raised an eyebrow, gnawing on his jerky like a wild animal. “Ghost stories? What are we, twelve?”

“Come on,” you teased. “Everyone knows camping isn’t complete without ghost stories. It’s like... the law.”

He scoffed but leaned back, his eyes glinting in the firelight. “Alright. You want a ghost story? I’ll give you one.”

“Oh, this oughta be good.”

Logan cleared his throat dramatically. “So... once upon a time... there was this girl. Thought she was real tough. Real smart.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Is this about me?”

“Shhh, I’m tellin’ a story here,” Logan said, smirking. “Anyway, she thought she could survive out in the wild with just a little ol’ tent and her wit. But one night, she heard a rustling in the trees... something... watching her.”

You leaned in, playing along, even though you knew exactly where this was going. “Oh, yeah? What was it?”

Logan’s eyes widened theatrically. “A bear! Big, ugly thing. Twice her size. It came into her camp, sniffin’ around, and you know what she did?”

You shook your head, grinning. “What?”

“Nothing. She just froze. The bear ate all her snacks, tore up her tent, and left her sittin’ there in her own piss.”

You burst out laughing. “Wow, Logan. Truly terrifying. 10/10. I’m gonna have nightmares for weeks.”

Logan grinned, leaning closer. “I got more. You’ll be beggin’ for mercy by the end of the night.”

You pushed his shoulder lightly. “You’re such an ass.”

As the night deepened and the fire began to die down, you both retreated into the tent. It was surprisingly cozy inside, the faint warmth of the fire lingering outside while you snuggled into your sleeping bag. Logan stretched out beside you, his body taking up way too much space, but you didn’t mind.

“Comfy?” you asked, glancing at him as he wiggled around.

“Like a fuckin’ sardine,” he muttered, trying to adjust in the small space. “Who the hell makes these tents so damn small?”

“They’re meant for normal-sized people, not... whatever the hell you are,” you said with a smirk.

Logan snorted. “Mutant privilege. I need bigger accommodations.”

You both lay there for a few minutes, the quiet settling in around you. Logan’s breathing was steady, his body warm next to yours, and despite his earlier grumblings, you could tell he was content. This whole camping thing wasn’t so bad, after all.

“Alright,” you said suddenly, turning to face him. “I’ve got a ghost story.”

Logan raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything, so you went on.

“There’s this guy, right? Big, tough, hairy—like, really hairy. The kinda guy you wouldn’t wanna meet in a dark alley.”

Logan rolled his eyes, but you kept going.

“And one night, he decides to go camping with this totally amazing girl—smart, funny, great taste in camping snacks—”

“Wow, I wonder who this is about,” Logan deadpanned.

“Shhh,” you said, stifling a laugh. “But the thing is... the guy? He’s got a secret. See, he acts all tough, like nothing scares him, but deep down? He’s terrified of one thing.”

Logan looked over at you, eyes narrowing. “What?”

You grinned, leaning in close. “Commitment.”

Logan blinked, then let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “You’re full of shit, you know that?”

“Maybe,” you said, smiling. “But you know I’m right.”

He didn’t deny it, just stretched out a hand to pull you closer, his arm wrapping around you with an ease that made your heart flutter a little too fast.

“I’m scared of plenty of things,” he muttered, his voice low and rough. “Just not the same kinda things as you.”

“Like what?” you asked, curious now.

Logan looked at you, his eyes serious for once. “Losing people. People I care about. That’s what scares me.”

The confession was quiet, unexpected, and it hit harder than you’d thought. You swallowed, unsure of what to say, but Logan just shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal, pulling you in tighter.

“Guess that makes you a real badass,” you whispered after a moment, your voice barely breaking the stillness of the tent.

“Damn right,” he muttered, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Now shut up and go to sleep before I start tellin’ real scary stories.”

You smiled against his chest, warmth spreading through you as the sound of the river and the soft crackling of the dying fire lulled you to sleep. And maybe, just maybe, you’d both survived the great outdoors after all.

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casualhedonists · 1 year ago

Text

✩ it don’t need your loving, it just needs attention ✩ (chapter two)

pairing: Coriolanus Snow x reader

chapter: 2/?

MASTERLIST

warnings: NSFW (18+), snow being snow, themes of sex work (not the reader), cuckolding, eventual smut, fake relationship, unprotected sex, themes of voyeurism & mild exhibitionism, murder mention (but no actual murder) (not yet at least?), MAJOR manipulation/gross power dynamics + generally darkish themes, some power play, oral sex, thigh riding, eventual piv, i’m new to full on smut bear with me here (and pls tell me if i forgot anything!)

i do not give permission for my work to be reposted/translated anywhere, under any circumstances.

a/n: first off, THANK YOU for the love on chapter 1. wasn’t sure how I’d fare since I’ve done a lot of writing in my life but little to no smut. with that said! longer chapter incoming. also I just know he’d give insane head okay i just do,the guy looks like he fucks and he definitely does

You weren't sure exactly how you slipped away from Snow’s room that night, but you could somewhat piece it together in flashes. First a head rush, then the fire in the pit of your stomach practically having gasoline thrown on it.

You remembered a quiet gasp escaping your lips, then panic, a flash of white, and suddenly you were stumbling away, head spinning as you tried to catch your breath, pacing unevenly down the hallway, any chance of a stealthy escape long thrown out the window.

Back in your room, once the door was bolted and your back was against it, making sure nobody could get in if they tried, you had your first shot at clear-headedness since you’d heard heels scuffing the hardwood.

You’d soaked your panties through and were dripping down your thighs, but you’d be damned if you could get into the headspace to take care of it. Panic flooded your veins, ice-hot as you tried to catch your breath. you slid down the door and sat there, legs numb against the cold wooden planks.

Who was she? A million questions filled your head all at once. Was she from the Capitol? Could she be one of Snow’s friends, one of your friends? The thought made you sick. What if you’d dined with her before? Talked to her? How long had this been happening? Who knew about it? Were you being played?

Had he seen you watching him?

Unable to help yourself, your one-track mind took you back to the way he’d groaned your name, though you were half sure that had been a fever dream of some kind. Still, you kept replaying it. Over and over, like a broken record.

It didn’t make any sense, you were so fucking confused. All this time you’d been hoping he would make a move, you’d practically begged him to. Why hadn’t he? When you were clearly on his mind, and yet he made you believe he didn’t think of you that way at all. Was he just respecting your agreement?

You fiddled with the lace on the hem of your slip as you mulled it over. You stayed sat like this for almost an hour, trying unsuccessfully to wrap your head around it. When you ended up right back where you started, and you were sure enough time had passed that if someone was coming to get you, they would’ve already, you finally stood up. Your caution led you to drag a chair from across the room, propping it up by the door to jam the handle. That left you with the sliver of peace of mind you required to shower off this cold sweat you’d formed.

The next morning, you dreaded breakfast. But you knew you had to face him, as well as the fact that this could very well be your last meal. You should at least try to eat well.

You made your way downstairs, a few minutes later than usual, enough for Coriolanus to already be sipping coffee, a few pages through his newspaper. You’d not got fully dressed yet, not wanting the contrast to be too obvious, but you’d wrapped a silk dressing gown around you so you were a little more covered up. You knew one thing for certain, you wouldn’t be trying any more of your tricks until you knew just what you were dealing with.

He didn’t look over at you, which you took as a good sign. The urge to hide from him, from what you’d seen and what you now knew, overwhelmed you. You didn’t say a word, and picked silently at your breakfast, but despite your best efforts, not managing to keep more than a few bites down.

“You’re quiet today.” He muttered, and you started.

“Um.”

He lowered his paper.

“Something wrong?”

How about everything?

“Oh, no, I’m okay. Just uh…” you glanced up at him, and met his sharp gaze. Fuck. You’d hoped you’d go unnoticed. You felt like a deer in headlights, like he could read your mind.

“Well?” He prompted, gaze unwavering. You blinked.

“Headache.” You managed to breathe, faking a small, pitiful smile.

He brought his paper back up in front of him, crisply turning the page. You both thanked the new barrier between you for cutting off his stare, and resented it as you looked at the tiny printed words you couldn’t make out from where you were sitting.

“I’ll have Lucille bring you up something.”

“Thank you.” you said quickly, almost too quickly, and you feared he might lower his paper again to watch you as you stumbled over another excuse. But you fell lucky this time.

The week seemed to pass in a blur, Monday’s gala being one of the only times you really left your room when Snow was around, other than meal times, which you spent in a similar state as that first breakfast. You cursed yourself for throwing out your longer dresses, and settled for the least suggestive of them, the white one you’d been thinking of pitching to Snow as a backup plan in your panicked state outside his bedroom. That all felt worlds away now. What you’d seen had shifted the tides, marking a solid, definitive line in your head between the before and after.

The gala went as well as it could given the circumstances. You danced, Snow was charming to you in front of the guests, but held your gaze no longer than usual. It was simultaneously terrifying and thrilling to feel his hands on your waist, knowing what you knew. It felt like you’d been tapped with a cattle prod and had to hide it every time his hand brushed yours on top of the dinner table, as unsuspecting guests smiled at you, the happy couple.

If only they knew that in the same breath, you were scanning the crowd, wondering who the blonde could’ve been, how close she was to Snow, if at all, and hating the way every touch he placed on your hands and waist served as a reminder that he’d been touching her instead of you.

Your stupid brain had formed a highlight reel of what you’d witnessed behind Snow’s door, and it tortured you with every passing moment. To know he was thinking of you. To think that maybe, he wanted you there instead. It put a strange sense of possessive pride into you, that weaved between your jealousy. Because yes, you’d seen another girl on her knees with her mouth around him, but you hadn’t heard any name other than your own while it happened.

You carried this strange hope, dwindling to start off, and then building each day that you were left un-hanged and very much alive, slowly chipping away at your fear of the worst. And yet, you knew the game, unbeknownst to Snow, had been fundamentally changed. You’d stopped your antics altogether, now barely meeting his eye as you passed each other in the hallway, covering up more at breakfast, and only talking just enough to avoid another interrogation. Avoiding touch, and conversation, and all-around keeping yourself away from him.

You were quieter still at night in your room. After a few days, you’d finally felt safe enough to move the chair away and sleep with the door locked as you normally would. But while your games had stopped, your want for him had only been amplified. Fuelled by jealousy and frustration, you had to bite down on your hand so that not even the slightest noise made its way out as you pictured him, not as you used to in your fantasies, but as you’d seen him that night, undone with your name on his lips. It was much easier, in your head, to picture yourself as the one on your knees. Any other fantasy just failed to make the cut now you’d seen the real thing.

Thursday rolled around and you’d made a new habit of pacing the downstairs library when Coriolanus was out of the house. That way, if he got home and stepped inside, you could pretend to be lost in a book. But the hours seemed to stretch out and you became bored, and with no Snow in sight, you decided to head down to the servants’ quarters.

This wasn’t a common occurrence, but it wasn’t unheard of. You were known for your gentleness among the house staff, less harsh than Snow, but firm nonetheless. It had led you to a respectful friendliness with the maids and servants, and once every so often you’d check in on them.

Today’s objectives, however, were purely self-motivated. You found Lucille, who dressed you, at the kitchen table, chopping vegetables.

She stood upon seeing you, and curtseyed (Snow was rather old fashioned that way). You nodded, then took a seat at the foot of the table.

“Do you need any help with that?” You glanced at the cutting board.

Lucille’s eyes widened. “I wouldn’t dream of it, Ma’am.”

You laughed. Lucille chopped and diced, and you asked questions. At first, they were after her family, her brother was sick and despite your offers, she wouldn’t accept help. So instead you listened, and slowly but surely, your questions got a little more directed toward the object of your interest.

You were good at playing the long game, so you started by asking about the company he kept. What she thought of them, with the promise that it would stay between the two of you, cross your heart.

She wouldn’t say much but she knew a little more than you; Snow kept very similar company as you did, and rarely went out for social visits. Any trips were strictly work-related, and when you eased into the topic of his past, Lucille mentioned, in very polite terms, that he had left a small trail of women heartbroken after a short period of time. That not all of them had been pleasant, and that she was pleased you seemed to have a positive effect on him.

She knew about your arrangement, practically the whole staff did, but they were kept on a very tight leash and were thoroughly reminded to not say a word acknowledging it, not even to you. It was with a knowing glance that Lucille told you she was happy you’d stayed around.

You smiled. Knowing that was likely all you were going to get for now, you let her be. By then, it was late enough to have gone dark, and you headed up to bed.

You awoke to creaking outside your door, and the shadow of footsteps from underneath it. You’d been tossing and turning for the last - you checked your watch - two hours. Excellent. You rolled onto your back wondering who it was, and then you heard it again. At first you wondered if it was just a sleep-deprived hallucination, or a sense of deja-vu, but then you focused, and there it was. The sound of heels. Again.

You sat up in bed, pushing your hair out of your face. You were enraged the first time, but if this was becoming a Thursday night tradition, it would be a serious problem. You were tired, you reasoned, you could just try to go back to sleep. Ignore it. Not let him have this power over you, a power that he didn’t even know he had. All the more reason to ignore it, and make it tomorrow’s problem.

But you just couldn’t let sleeping dogs lie, no matter how hard you tried. Your mother used to say it was a problem, always sticking your nose in places it didn’t belong. But it had got you this far, hadn't it?

You knew you were going to follow her to Snow’s room again, it was just a matter of time. You had to at least pretend you had an ounce of self-control, whereas really your head was thrumming and you knew it would take getting hit by a high-speed train to send you back to sleep now.

So you held off. Five minutes passed. Then ten. You had to know, at least, what they were doing. Maybe you could get a look at her face, see who it was, and answer some of the questions you had.

So you went. With a purpose this time, knowing full well what and who you’d end up seeing, trying to take steady breaths and focus on your plan. Check who it was, then leave.

You’d never been that great at execution. Call it hedonism, call it a morbid fascination, or living vicariously, but when you walked up to the door - which was ajar again, strangely even more than last time, by at least an inch or two - you looked inside, and your feet planted. The last shred of your self-control allowed you to take in the room first, the desk and chair that was right within your sight, and as you tucked yourself into the room, half hidden behind the door, you finally looked back at the bed where you’d seen Snow with his blonde girl last time.

Neither of them were sitting now.

Thirty seconds ago, you would’ve believed the hottest thing you’d ever seen was what played out in this room last week. But that was before you saw Snow turned away from you, still fully dressed with his sleeves rolled up, stomach on the bed and face between the blonde’s thighs, eating her out like he was on death row and she was his last meal.

You’d gotten head before. You knew it felt good, but the boys you’d slept with before your arrangement with Snow were selfish and inattentive. They would try, but they were far more interested in getting their dicks wet than showing you a good time. But Snow - you’d never seen anything like it. You didn’t know it could feel that good, or at least, not as good as the blonde girl - who you noted in the back of your mind, wasn’t anyone you recognised - was making it look. Her hips were bucking so hard he was having to pin her down with both hands around her waist.

She was just moving so much, wriggling and crying out and gasping and - you didn’t think you’d ever truly known jealousy until that moment. You couldn’t look away, knees weak and hands shaking, letting yourself get sucked into this headspace again, losing all trace of rationality. You’d think she was playing it up for him, but you knew what that sounded like. You’d faked enough orgasms to know if she was, but this? This was real. As she got close, grinding into him, writhing, running a shaky hand through his hair then getting louder, you managed to snap out of your trance.

In a flash, you ran back down the hallway.

If you thought you were avoiding Snow before, this week was about to give you a run for your money. You took breakfast in your room, and kept only to the parts of the house you knew he never entered. You only touched yourself in the shower, silent cries washed away by the water and steam, paranoia backing you into a corner.

You feigned illness the one time Snow sent a maid to inquire after you. Nothing too major, but enough to put him off. When he left the house, you snuck into the library to smuggle books back to your room, a pile forming as you tried ceaselessly to distract yourself.

You wrote home, you studied art and history. You attempted a few terrible sketches. You tore apart your room, then put it back together.

Before you knew it, Thursday rolled around again. On longer days like this, when Snow had been away working for hours at a time, you’d doubled down on your efforts to get information, and after chipping away for just long enough, you finally managed to squeeze some tidbits out of Lucille. Namely that there was a certain gentleman’s club in the city that he used to frequent before his election as President. Snow’s old driver might know its name, she said.

“But that was long before he met you, ma’am, rest assured.” She added hurriedly.

“Of course. Thank you, Lucille. I think I’ve kept you for long enough. Goodnight.”

Snow had been gone for the whole day, and you weren’t sure if he’d come home yet, so as you headed up to your room, you quietly wandered a little further down the hallway, to check if there was any light beneath his door. There wasn’t. Good. You were glad he wouldn’t be continuing this routine of his. Maybe this Thursday night, you could sleep peacefully.

With a sigh, and mulling over what you’d learned today, you returned to your room, poured a drink, then collapsed into bed.

This night was as sleepless as the rest, and you’d been drifting - not uncomfortably - in and out. A storm was brewing outside, and the sounds of howling wind began to keep you alert. You rolled onto your back and stared at the ceiling, then glanced towards your door. Snow must’ve come home at some point, and very late at that, because dim lights had been turned on in the hallway. Paranoia crept into your mind, slowly poisoning your thoughts and turning you inside out.

It didn’t take long before the feeling pushed you to roll out of bed, slide on a dressing gown, and crack open your door. This time, you couldn’t hear footsteps, or anything that might arise suspicion. You closed the door again. Waited. Then looked around your room, at the messy sheets and the half finished glass of liquor on the nightstand. You rarely drank alone, but these past few weeks had been getting to you, fucking with your head. Coriolanus Snow had driven you to this.

The wind got louder, and you knew you were too wired to sleep, so you stood by your window and finished the glass.

You’d never been good with mysteries. You wanted to know everything, all the time. Know who had power over you, know precisely how to take it away. Know exactly what was happening around you at any given moment. But most of all, you didn’t like being played for a fool.

And sure, the ethics of it had never been discussed between the two of you. Your business was strictly professional, but when you weren’t allowed to sleep around, why could he?

In fact, how dare he?

You poured another glass, straight whiskey. Downed it, pacing your room, back and forth between the door and the window, running your fingers along the ridges of the crystal glass. You thought about him, comfortably in his room, not a care in the world.

How dare he.

You weren’t sure if it was the drink or the buildup of your situation that had your blood boiling, but it didn’t matter. You were incensed. His behaviour was an insult to your name, to your family’s name. Sure, this relationship was a sham, but all the more reason for him to act with basic fucking respect. Sleeping with - and very obviously, at that - a whore, who had a bad habit of leaving the door cracked open, was unacceptable.

You were running hot, and if you knew one thing for certain, it was that when Snow met with fire, he was going to melt. You’d make sure of it.

Your feet took you into the hallway, with the decidedness that this would be the last time.

You rushed down the corridor with a tightly bottled rage that was about to burst, words hot on your tongue and demanding to be spoken, until you turned the corner and saw Snow’s door half open. You stopped in your tracks. Reassessed, then stepped closer, slowly, steadily. Remembering what you were there for.

Then, as you got close enough to see inside - right there, without you even having to step past the threshold, were the two of them, lit by a table lamp, Snow sat on the desk chair as the girl rode him to high heaven, obscene noises getting louder. As you approached you saw Snow’s face again, eyes shut, breath laboured, and you couldn’t believe that anyone just walking by would be able to see this. They were fucking like animals, out in the open. You didn’t know how or why you drew closer still, closing in on them. The girl’s head was dropped down to his shoulder, back facing you, and couldn’t see you unless she turned, but Snow? He was practically facing the door, almost as if he’d been…

No. It couldn’t be. Could it?

But you didn’t have time to think it through, because Snow’s eyes blinked open, and you knew. He was looking right at you, blue eyes piercing into yours, sharp and dangerous like he was going in for the kill. You stood there, jaw dropped, unable to look away. In what world could you walk in on someone like this, and feel like they held all the cards, and you none? That was how he looked at you; like you’d been there watching the whole time, and this was all a show, playing out exactly as he’d planned it. Like somehow, despite all your best efforts, he’d landed on top.

It was like he read your mind, because he wet his lips, unblinking as the blonde writhed on his lap, and fucking smirked.

a/n: can’t wait for them to hate fuck after this (oh sorry forgot i’m the author for a sec) thanks for reading <3

taglist: @superchatnoir07 @itsrainingreid @nycweb-slinger @lookclosernow @etfrin @resibunn @serving-targaryen-realness @harmfulb1tch @demonsnangels @superb-icarus @julesandro @gracieroxzy @slyhersophia @shadowsepiphany @ben-has-arrived @unclecrunkle @zerotwo-sciencequeen @itsleniiilosers @thesiriusmap @ooooglymoooogly @darkqweenn @going-through-shit @loverw1tch @stinkii-boii

if you’d like to be tagged, please leave a comment on the masterlist!! 💌

#coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x you #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow x you #snow x reader #snow x you #the hunger games #tbosas #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #coriolanus snow smut #tom blyth

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latenightdaydreams · 10 months ago

Note

Oh my goodness!! I absolutely loved your doll-sized! reader x König so so much. Could you perhaps make a part 2 where she tries to escape, but König puts her in the jar 😵‍💫 or maybe he punishes her by overstimulating her with his tongue…

Yes🤭😮‍💨

König x Doll Sized!Reader PT2(fem)

MDNI🔞

Part 1

Master List

>cw: fem/afab, masturbation, oral, cum play, captive, non-con

2.6k word count

That night, you didn't sleep. You spend all night trying to escape from this closet. Breaking off the small plastic bar in your closet to see if you can break a small part of the door, looking for holes in the wall, nothing. You find yourself completely trapped within. With a feeling of defeat, you drop to the floor and curl into a ball. Tears fall from your eyes until you slowly fall asleep.

König wakes up early the next morning with a new found pep in his step. The fact he has you here, so close, gives him a rush he hasn’t felt in a long time. He enters his kitchen, going into the refrigerator and grabbing eggs to prepare for the both of you. On one plate, he loads it up with scrambled eggs, toast with jam, and sausage for you both to share.

He climbs back upstairs, opening his bedroom door, and locking it behind him. Sitting the plate of food down on his nightstand, he opens the closet door. There you are, in your purple dress, asleep on the floor. It’s obvious that you were trying to escape; he knew you would, but had hoped you would have come to terms with things overnight. Your closet is a mess and pieces of wood chippings are on the floor from the door.

König’s eyes trail over your body as he kneels down. Your eyes flutter open as you feel yourself being picked up. Panic sets in as you realize König has grabbed you in your sleep. He watches as you wake up in his hands. A look of dread crosses your face, upsetting König. He’s so used to you being happy to see him, now you’re acting as if you don’t even like him.

“I made breakfast for both the of us.” He says, sitting on the bed and placing you next to him.

The large plate of food is placed in front of you, the bread and sausage cut smaller for you to take bites. König’s eyes study your expression as you look at everything before you. He reaches out with the backs of his middle and pointer fingers, caressing the side of your face. You flinch slightly, but don’t make any sudden movements.

“Eat, kleine Maus.” König’s eyes follow the outline of your body in that dress. “It’s good, I promise. Those are chicken eggs with beef and pork sausage.”

You lean forward and grab a piece of the bread, taking a bite and smiling when you taste the sweet apricot jam. König lets out a breath he had been holding in, wondering if you’d eat. He loves to watch your mouth wrap around the pieces of bread. The way a bit of jam sticks to your upper lip.

Despite everything, you seem to have been able to maintain your cheery disposition. Not making any attempts to flee and actually eating peacefully with him. Of course, König is going to maintain a close eye on you, but he’s happy to see that you’re not freaking out.

Once you’re done eating you sit back with your arms behind you to prop you up. “Thank you for the food, König.”

“Of course. I’m happy you enjoyed it all.” His eyes study your face before speaking again. “You’re so beautiful. I’m so happy that you’re mine.”

You notice his other arm moving, your eyes falling on it and notice that he is rubbing his boner as he looks at you. An uncomfortable look crosses your face, remembering how he acted with you yesterday. König watches you as you fidget, he’s aware of your feelings but he doesn’t care. He’s horny and he wants to know what he can do with you.

“Undress, Maus.” He more so demands of you as he moves the plate of food.

“König, please don’t make me.”

“I don’t want to hear any back-talk. Take. It. Off.” His voice is almost a low growl.

You stand to your feet and begin to undo your dress, letting it drop onto the bed sheets. Avoiding his gaze, you look down at the blue comforter. The bed moves as König stands and fully undresses before you. Your eyes scan over every inch of his body, landing on his erection.

König reaches forward and grasps you in his fist, holding you as he lets himself get comfortable on the bed. As he settles down on his abdomen, he uses his hands to gently open your legs. He slowly rubs up and down your small thighs, enjoying how delicate your flesh feels. One of his fingers runs down your thigh lower and lower…until he’s slowly moving his finger up and down your tiny cunt. Your legs jerk in reaction to his massive finger rubbing your clit. An arrogant smirk crosses his lips as he watches you struggle to control yourself.

He adjusts his body to rest on his side so his free hand can reach down and stroke his cock. The finger that is slowly rubbing your clit moves to the side to hold your leg open for him. At first, he takes a deep breath, smelling what your natural musk smells like. With one deep inhale, he’s hooked. You smell better than any human he’s ever smelt before.

“Mein Gott, you smell wie eine Blume.” His German and English get mixed as his excitement grows.

You try to close your other leg to take away access to yourself. His hand moves from his cock to your other leg and holds it down. “Don’t be a nuisance.”

König lowers his head and swipes the very tip of his tongue over your sweet cunt, his eyes closing instantly. It was as if he had just eaten the sweetest cake he’s ever tasted in his entire life. The tip of his tongue is big enough to cover every inch of your pussy. He simply wiggles his tongue back and forth pulling precious whimpers from your lips.

“König, too much!” You moan loudly as your back arches.

“Mhm.” He grunts back to you.

The way your body moves as you become overwhelmed with pleasure is spectacular. His lips wrap around you and sucks lightly. In response, the muscles in your abdomen tense up and you lean forward. Your small hands press against his face trying to push him away from overstimulating you. He’s simply too big to move. With all of your might you try to close your legs, causing König to chuckle.

“I want you to cum in my mouth.” He says, pulling back slightly before diving back in.

Your breathing is heavy as you pant from his mouth consuming you. As you writhe beneath him, his cock twitches with excitement. All his mind can think of is slipping his cock into you, but logically he knows that he can’t. You’re so small he would rip you apart if he tried.

Electric waves of euphoria pleasure pulse throughout your whole body. Every little suck or swirl of his tongue pushes you to the point the pleasure is almost painful. There is no break, just constant ecstasy. You begin to shake your head side to side as primal moans escape you.

As you orgasm, König loosens his grip on your legs. He moves one arm back down to jerk himself off. His eyes watch you as your eyes flutter and roll back in your head. What a beautiful sight you are.

“Gott, you taste so good.”

While you pant, trying to recover, he grabs your body and moves how he’s positioned in the bed. He leans back against his pillows and holds you, bringing you to his cock. It’s almost the full length of your body and wider than you are. Seeing the comparison of you in one hand next to his cock in the other makes his mind run wild.

“I wish I could fuck you.” His voice drips with hunger.

König jerks himself off as he holds you close to him. The musk coming off of him consuming your nostrils. He brings you closer to him, his hand moving off of himself as he presses you against him.

“Lick it.”

With hesitation, you slowly stick your tongue out and swipe a quick lick over his foreskin. König pulls it back to expose his pink tip.

“Again.”

You close your eyes so you don’t have to see as you lick your flat tongue along the head of his cock. It tastes salty from all of the precum that has leaked down it. König lets out a moan as he feels you. It’s small, but the visual of you doing it is stimulating enough for him to cum.

“Use that fucking tongue.” He groans.

As disgusted as you are, you don’t want the giant to be upset with you so you rest one hand on his cock as you slick with passion, sucking lightly. König watches down at you with half lidded eyes, enjoying the way you’re eagerly trying to please him.

Right when he feels as if he is ready to cum, his doorbell rings. König lets out an annoyed sigh as he puts you down on the bed. He quickly stands, grabbing his pants before peaking out the window to see who it is. Once he notices the mail truck, he puts his pants on.

“I’ll be right back. I just have to sign for a package.” He leaves, closing the bedroom door behind him.

For a moment you freeze, your heart beating quickly in your chest. Now is the time. You walk to the edge of the bed, looking down at the distance to the floor. It’s at least a two-foot drop that could hurt you. In a rush your eyes scan the bed, noticing how the night stand has a safe next to it, causing a small stair effect.

Without giving it a second thought you rush to jump the small gap between the bed and the night stand. You steady yourself on the cold wood, walking over the remote and ash tray that rest on it. Getting closer to the edge, you look down at the black metal safe. The drop is big, but you know you can do it without getting hurt.

With a deep breath, you turn and drop yourself down slowly. Once your feet touch the metal a wave of relief comes over you. Not even looking this time, you turn and lower yourself down to the floor the same way. Now with feet on the floor, you run to the door, trying to fit underneath the gap in between the door and the floor. As much as you try, it’s not use, you don’t fit.

Letting out a frustrated sigh, you rub your face with your hands. König closes the front door with the package in his hand and begins to walk up the stairs. He goes to his office and places the package on his desk in the office to work on later tonight. You can hear his footsteps approaching so you decide to hide up against the wall and just make a run for it once he opens the door.

Your heart thumps in your chest as you wait. It’s as if things move in slow motion when you see the door opening. Once one of his feet is past the threshold, you run. König isn’t stupid, he quickly sees that you’re missing from the bed. His eyes dart everywhere around the room when he hears you behind him.

“Stop!” he shouts at you as you turn into one of the open doors, hoping to use your size to be able to hide from him.

The room you ran into is his office, where he spends his time making things for you. König is hot on your trail. He isn’t going to let you go this easily. As he enters the room, he closes the door behind him.

“Kleine Maus, you’ve only made this worse for yourself.” He taunts as he slowly steps forward. “Now you get to sit in a jar instead of your comfortable bed.”

The way he speaks sends a chill down your spine; you know he means it. The jar isn’t something you plan on experiencing. You look around for a place to conceal yourself until he moves on, looking at a stack of files. You slowly try to get behind the stack, but one accidental slip of your hand sends them all crashing down.

König turns in that direction and rushes to you quickly. “You’re not getting away.” He growls as he pulls the files over more to see you.

You run but before you can make any distance, König’s massive hand squeezes around you. This time his grip hurts. With all of your might you kick and hit him with your hands but nothing works. He doesn’t even look at you as he stalks over to his desk with urgent speed. You see a large mason jar and panic sets in.

“Please don’t put me in there König, I’ll suffocate.” You plead desperately.

“I drilled holes in the lid, I’m not a fucking idiot.” He says with irritation in his voice.

König lifts the lid up and drops you into the jar, your body hitting the glass with a ding. You look up as he closes you inside. He picks up the jar and holds you face level with himself, his gaze holding a lot of anger.

“Why did you try to run?!” He yells at you.

“I just want to go home.” You cry out and hit the side of the jar.

“No! You are home!” His shouts vibrate the glass jar.

He slams you down on the desk, once again rattling you. Your body falls hard against the glass as you look up. The rage you’ve feared is showing its ugly head. As you stand up and steady yourself, you watch König pull his pants back down, whipping his cock back out.

König stands and unleashes his anger out on his cock. His eyes travel all over your body, still tasting your sweet pussy on his tongue. You’re such a naughty fucking woman, a sweet little whore…his whore.

“Say you want my cum.”

“I want your cum.” You say quickly, this isn’t a time to try and anger him. Instead, you fawn instantly.

“Ja, du kleine Hure.” König moans out as he steps closer to the jar.

He stops to open the lid, bringing himself closer to the desk. His fist moving quickly up and down his cock as he aims it into the jar. Pathetic moans leave König as thick globs of his cum fall down into the jar, some falling on to you and covering your hair and face. You gag from the smell and sticky feeling as it covers you. His jizz fills the jar up to your ankles.

König looks down and sees you covered, disgusted with what he just did. A chuckle leaves his lips as he watches your reaction. “What? You don’t like my cum?”

You don’t respond, trying to remain calm so he will let you out. He isn’t going to though. You’re staying in that cum filled jar for the whole day, maybe even days. Maybe he will just keep filling the jar up, covering you until you’re consumed by his seed.

The warm cum sticks to your hair, slowly falling down your naked body. There is nowhere for you to sit or relax without having to sit in his cum. The small space traps the smell inside with you. It is absolutely disgusting.

König closes the lid again, tightly, trapping you within. He sits down in his desk chair and looks at you for a moment. Wondering how he can fuck you. What can he shove inside of you without hurting you? His eyes drift from you to the desk full of craft supplies. He notices a dried drop from his hot glue gun, picking it up and bending it. Just then an idea enters his mind, his gaze meeting yours with a mischievous smirk on his face.

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owls0ma · 2 days ago

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dark cacao is one of the most mischaracterized characters in cookie run and I don't see anybody talking about it

not a lot of you know this but dark cacao is my favourite character. he shares a spot with burning spice (begrudgingly, he HATES his insane ass)

and I look at people's different interpretations of him and I think they're cool! sometimes I'll see things they do and I'll use it as inspiration for my interpretation of him

but one headcanon of his that I despise with all my being is dark cacao having anger issues because it's so painfully out of character for him

he’s a serious character. he takes things seriously because he's a warrior, and he has to always have his guard up because he's constantly fighting the licorice sea. he’s also stubborn and strict, and he doesn't take bullshit from anyone. he's honestly probably one of the more patient characters in the game from what he's had to put up with in his life.

not a single one of those things makes him angry. he's just serious

sure, you could use the council scene and his fight with dark choco against me but here’s something i’ve noticed; the only time I’ve ever actually seen dark cacao get incredibly angry like that is when someone hits him in a sore spot. I'll start with the council scene

iirc it was just revealed that white lily cookie, one of his closest friends and allies, who was presumed dead at that point to everyone (except for pure vanilla) was revealed to be dark enchantress cookie, the cookie that started the dark flour war, killed his subjects, completely destroyed the golden cheese kingdom and the vanilla kingdom, and almost killed him, the other ancients, actually killed pure vanilla and several other cookies in the process. and he learned ALL OF THIS from a complete stranger and not from pure vanilla, who knew but chose not to say anything.

mind you, when he arrived in the vanilla kingdom, this had been the first time he had actually seen the place, as well as hollyberry and pure vanilla, since the dark flour war. I’m pretty sure anybody would get emotional after reuniting with old friends who you haven’t seen in a while (especially ones you thought were DEAD). Keeping in mind the fact that he was probably still processing the fact that pure Vanilla and hollyberry were both alive, and then after that getting hit with the fact that one of your other closest friends was revealed to be the cookie that almost killed you and your friends, is a lot of emotions, both positive and negative, to process in only a few days. all of this combined with immediately afterwards being compared to said cookie after everything she had done, COMPLETELY unprovoked, is what set dark cacao off

let's also not forget he had just gotten done dealing with affogato, one of his closest and most trusted denizens trying to kill him and steal his kingdom as well as the cookies of darkness trying to steal his soul jam

clotted cream compares dark cacao to dark enchantress because he's unwilling to share his soul jam. to the person who just dealt with someone attempting to steal his soul jam, on top of everything I mentioned before, it's no wonder he snapped

even pure vanilla, who agreed with clotted cream in that the ancients should share their soul jam told him afterwards he went too far 😭😭

now onto his fight with dark choco in episode 14

I’m pretty sure at this point it’s been established what happened between dark cacao and dark choco, so we can all assume that the topic of dark Choco is a sore spot for dark cacao. which, fair enough, his own son tried to KILL HIM

seeing dark choco again after so long, especially under the circumstances that he appeared in the dark cacao kingdom, would result in a mixed bag of emotions. When dark cacao first saw dark choco again, he seemed pretty surprised to see him. he wasn’t immediately angry, and that was most likely because deep down he really missed dark choco, and he wanted him to come back, but he wanted him to do it on his own, hence why he didn’t go looking for him directly (which has been directly stated by dark cacao to hollyberry in their kingdom interaction). and after that, dark cacao learns of affogato's betrayal, and then gets pushed off the great wall.

now, this is the second time dark choco has tried to kill dark cacao. the first time was all those years ago when dark choco was much younger, and he hadn't seen him since that point

so no wonder his reaction is to get angry because. I dunno, if I was a father and my son tried to kill me twice, I'd be pretty pissed too.

their later interaction when they fight after dark cacao had gotten his sword out of the tomb of blades is where dark cacao says "It is my life's greatest regret to have called you my son" to dark choco. he says it out of a place of hurt and anger because iirc dark choco had just threatened to lay waste to the citadel with dark enchantress' armies (whom he mentions by name, and we all know by now that she's a sore subject for him)

we know he didn't truly mean this when he says his big speech to dark choco after their fight concludes, in which he apologises to dark choco for how he was raised

he got mad and said things he didn't mean because of his complicated relationship with his son, not because he has anger issues

it genuinely upsets me to see people take this amazingly written character and just dumb him down to "grumpy peepaw with anger issues" because he isn't that, he's so much more than the fandom portrays him as and it upsets me that nobody sees that

anyways sorry for the yapping this subject means a lot to me lol

#cookie run kingdom #cookie run #crk #dark cacao cookie #dark choco cookie #clotted cream cookie #dark cacao #dark choco #i hate when ppl say he has anger issues #jusg say you dont know his character and move on #please

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slamminslamminmcgill · 7 months ago

Note

mm finally watched deadpool and wolverine today, and my god... 🥵 so many thoughts...

Idek which ones to put here. What do you think a p*ss kink would look like with both of them? Or just more of them making reader squirt their brains out.

The dialogue you write between them sounds so natural. Like I can literally read it in their voice. -🐮

LFGGGG thank y’all for giving me an excuse to talk abt this 🙏 i got more ideas but this post would’ve been WAYYYY too long sooo be on the lookout for more debauchery

warning: piss, anal, dp, dubcon, light degradation/humiliation, intox (alcohol for logan)

anatomical terms: cunt/pussy

as with most of the fucked up kinks y'all try in this polycule, it happens spontaneously the first time.

logan had just finished inside your ass, and out of the three of you, it takes him the longest to cum. it also takes a lot out of him. he roars and jams his claws through wade's temples (whoopsie! that's why your bed has red vinyl sheets hehe) so there's a dramatic break in the action afterwards.

"ah... hah... ngh, fuck..." he's panting, heaving almost, and slides out of your now gaping hole, "fuck, that was good..." he retracts his claws from wade’s skull, then purrs in your ear and smooches your neck, "good job, kid."

wade, still hard as steel in your cunt, claps excitedly for him. "yay! good job, YOU, peanut! UGH, i love watching you fill him up. you get so... beastly~."

you giggle, nuzzling into wade's tits, feeling goofy and content. a warm load up one hole, and a thick cock up the other.

logan smiles, kissing you on the back of your head this time. “you gonna be okay alone with him for a sec? i gotta go piss.”

"mhm!"

"'kay. i'll be right back, pumpkin." another kiss to your neck, and he's off, walking flaccidly to the bathroom, shaking his fuzzy cheeks.

you drop your head back down against wade’s chest and sigh, "i gotta piss too, actually."

"oh, yeah, yes you do, mister!" deadpool pats you on your shoulders, "always make sure to pee before, during, and after sex!"

you absentmindedly chuckle, until you realize what it is he just said, “wait… during?!"

"hey! thou shalt not knock what thou hast not tried!i know it sounds icky, but hear me out."

he thrusts upwards into you sharply

“fuck!!!”

“so! i want you to imagine…” *THRUST* “how good it’d feel…” *THRUST* “to be really filled up.” *THRUST* “and i mean FULL!” *THRUST* “like your pussy is a searing hot water balloon about to explode. and then when it does?” *THRUST* “when it all comes flooding out of you? oh darling, the relief…” he moans dramatically, gripping your hips and shifting you back and forth on his shaft, “hottest thing you’ll ever experience, i swear. there’s nothing else like it… wanna try it?”

you’re skeptical, but wade wilson is a hell of a salesman. “…fuck it. let’s do it.”

“yippee!!! okay, just gotta get soft so i can piss. dead kittens… calculus homework… grandma deadpool! there we go! okay… phew… here goes…”

it’s a tense, awkward silence as he starts. you’re not sure what to expect. then, you begin to feel it. that searing heat swelling inside you, pooling between his cock and your skin, flooding what little space there was inside you. you gasp, and attempt to squirm to cope with the sensation, but wade holds you still.

“don’t move! don’t move, my little urinal boy! mmm, i gotcha, just… just trust me on this… i’m almost done…”

“you two are fucking disgusting.”

logan’s voice coming out of nowhere makes you jump, and then wade’s piss spills out of you. and just like he told you, it feels fucking incredible. you’re twitching, spasming, moaning pure nonsense as wade fucks your drenched, desecrated cunt. loud splashing accompanies the brutal pace of his hips.

“your loss, peanut! imagine wasting your piss on the bathroom toilet when you could’ve given it to this even cuter toilet!” he pecks you on the cheek with a loud “mwah~!”

from then on, it becomes you and wade peeing on each other just to mess with him. since he’s never told y’all to stop, you both figure that he likes it, but he’s too embarrassed to admit it.

the three of y’all are showering together

“so, just asking as a throuple here, are we all pro- or anti-peeing in the shower?”

“if you get piss on me, i’ll stick my claws through your fucking corneas.”

“promise?!”

”don’t. you fucking. dare.”

“aw, boo, you’re no fun.” wade pouts, then grabs you by your wet hair and pulls your ear towards his lips. “you, though… you’re TONS of fun.” he playfully bites your ear, and then your neck. “so fun, in fact, that you’re gonna get on your knees and drink every drop of piss that i give you, right?”

i feel like the only time y’all can get logan to participate is while he’s drunk. he’s too sloshed to feel shame for it.

maybe y’all are in bed together, all cuddled up in a tangled mess of limbs, and he grumbles something about needing to take a leak.

“oh, don’t worry about getting up, honey-bun!” wade fishes under the blankets for logan’s soft cock, “lemme take care of that for you.”

“wh… the fuck are you talkin’ about?”

“ugh please, don’t act like you haven’t thought about pissing down my throat. can’t i just once do something nice for you?”

he grumbles, not wanting to indulge wade, but not wanting to get up even more.“fine. whatever. i hope you choke on it.”

“oh, i will.”

#🐮#anon #ask #piss kink #deadpool x ftm reader #deadpool x reader x wolverine #deadpool x trans reader #deadpool x you #deadpool x reader #deadpool smut #deadpool #poly poolverine #poly deadclaws #wolverine x trans reader #wolverine x you #wolverine x reader #wolverine x ftm reader

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cup1dt3a · 9 months ago

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Prefect’s Revenge

Summary: The dorm leaders and the vice dorm leader of Scarabia have been noticing weird things going on recently. Having no clue why until the Ramshackle prefect reveals their the one behind their recent misfortune at a meeting.

A/N: This is basically just a crack fic of Mc being done with everyone’s bs and proceeds to traumatize the overblot group. I’m slowly getting back into writing. I hope you’re all doing well and are having a wonderful day/night!

-Sincerely Cupid Tea 💖

It started off with Riddle soon noticing something different with his breath. Usually after he brushed his teeth he always felt like his breath was minty fresh. Recently though he soon noticed an odd taste in the back of his mouth. He hadn’t changed anything recently. Nothing in his routine seemed different too. Even confiding in Trey about anything that could be causing his bad breath. Sadly Trey couldn’t even figure out why and just told him to buy some mints to help including trying to brush his teeth more. The red head was soon left to ponder why his breath smelled so bad recently.

Then it was Leona. Sure his dormitory was known for reckless and obnoxious beastman. Though it’s never been this bad. All he wanted to do was sleep that’s it, but for some reason his dorm mates refused to turn down the music or stop partying. He was honestly sick and tired of hearing the blasting music from the lounge area. He’s even had to grumpily get out of his bed late early in the morning to tell them to keep it down. He was almost on the verge of actually begging them to shut the fuck up. He couldn’t even sleep in the botanical garden anymore without Last Friday night playing on repeat in his head once again. Even I’m a Barbie girl was haunting him.

Soon misfortune stuck Azul his coin collection that he locked in the vault wouldn’t open. He even got 2 new coins. Very rare and coins that were easy for anyone to steal and make a fortune off of. He soon tried to pull the door open thinking it was jammed. Sadly that didn’t work at all. He’s used a chainsaw, a lock picker, he even tried using the twins brute strength to open the door. After hours and hours of trying to get the door open in a desperate attempt to get his coin collection he threw himself at the door. Sadly, once again nothing worked. He was currently heaving with tears of frustration just wanting to put his new coins in his collection that he couldn’t get to.

Jamil soon started to notice an odd sensation on his back in the middle of the night. He mistook it for the cold breeze coming into his room due to it being colder at night. Soon it felt like something crawling on his back. But every time he checked there was nothing. He soon let his imagination get the best of him thinking it was spiders crawling up his back. Not to mention the recent spider infestation at his dormitory it seemed that everyday for the past week everyone in the Scarabia dorm was seeing spiders. This only scared the vice house warden more.

A horrific thing had happened in Pomefiore. Vil. The Vil Shoenheit had a pimple on his face. A horrendous pimple was on his face. Wait now it’s 2! Now it’s three!! What is happening!? His skincare routine was impeccable!! There’s no way this should be happening!

Idia was currently panicking. How the hell could someone hack him!? His everything was hacked!! He couldn’t even play with only friend online without the screen glitching out! Who the hell even downloaded so many viruses onto his computer!? How did they even download so many!?

Diasomnia was no better than the rest as a harsh thunderstorm plagued the dormitory. Malleus had lost his tamagochi Gao-Gao Drakon-kun. Which should’ve been impossible, but here we are he was currently tearing his room apart. While the rest of diasombia cowered at Malleus’s rage Lilia, Silver, … mainly Lilia and Silver tried to help him calm down and think rationally before he caused a tornado to run through the campus. Sebek was no help at all as he joined in on the destruction of Malleus’s room determined to find his masters Beloved Gao-Gao Drakon-kun.

Soon they were all called to a house warden meeting to discuss something with Crowley. They all stood a bit awkwardly. Riddle for once kept his mouth shut as he sat at the table before shoving another mint into his mouth for the 12th time today. Leona was on the verge of passing out as he looked down looked as if he was in pain and sleep deprived. Azul looked upset for once as if he was frustrated about something. Jamil looked paranoid as he kept glancing back and forth left to right at the walls occasionally slapping his back. He had come due to Kalim needing to study for an upcoming test due to his grades getting low. Vil on the other hand had on a mask. Idia was aggressively tapping his tablet making an upset groan once again seeing the screen glitch. Malleus on the other hand was impatiently tapping his foot he had no time for this he needed to find Gao-Gao Drakon-Kun. He was thankful to actually be here for once, but he had more important matters at the moment.

Soon and unexpectedly {Y/N} came in to break the silence.

“… Well it’s oddly quiet in here for once.” you chuckled.

None of it found it amusing as they all looked desperate to get out of here.

“ Fine then I’ll cut to the chase… Crowley didn’t invite you all here I did. “ you revealed having them all look at you in confusion.

“Why prefect?” *riddle asked popping another mint into his mouth after cringing smelling his breath.

“Well you see… you guys all remember when you overblotted right?” the atmosphere immediately grew a bit tense.

“I’m still pretty pissed about it to be honest so I thought why not get revenge on all of you.” This immediately caught their attention.

Soon Vil ripped off his mask yelling “ You did this to me!?” The others stared at him in shock his chin and cheeks were covered in red pimples. Well everyone except you this made you chuckle as you nodded.

“ Yep I replaced that cream you use in your face routine with lard.” You giggled as Vil gasped looking at you in disbelief.

“… W-wait what did you do to be then?” Riddle asked covering his mouth this made you sigh.

“ Riddle in all honesty I did this to you a while ago when you acted like a tyrant… I’ll apologize for this one but… I used your tooth brush to clean the toilets in Ramshackle.”he stood there in shock before gagging and running out the room.

The others just looked at you in shock and one by one you revealed what you did to them. For Leona you actually installed speakers outside his room that constantly play Last Friday night and Barbie girl. Turns out Ruggie really will do anything for a quick buck and donuts. Azul you had used super glue on the vaults lock. Idia you had ortho teach you how to hack and he’s surprisingly a very good teacher; you even sent idias search history to his parents. You had actually put a pregnant spider in Jamils room. Last but not least for Malleus you stole his tamagotchi.

“… You did all this for what!?” *Azul had a crazed look on his face as he looked at you in disbelief.

“ Revenge!” You yelled.

#riddle rosehearts #twst #twst wonderland #twisted wonderland shitpost #twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #twst x reader #gender neutral reader #twisted wonderland x reader #leona kingscholar #twst azul #twst vil #vil schoenheit #jamil viper #twst jamil #twst idia #idia shroud #twst malleus #malleus draconia

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tongue-like-a-razor · 2 years ago

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Brother's Best Friend - Part 4

Jake Seresin x F!Reader

A/N: Did I write an angstier version of this chapter and then rewrite the last half entirely because y'all deserve a fluffy read? Yes, yes I did. Thank you for all your wonderful ideas! I've got them all lined up for future chapters hehehe So don't be blaming me for the heartache you're inflicting upon yourselves XD Muah!

Summary: The trials and tribulations of falling for your brother's best friend.

CW: Swearing, suggestive language, protective Jake

WC: 2000+

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Masterlist

“You have a what?” Jake exclaims, nearly choking on his coffee.

“A date,” you repeat, smiling giddily at both him and Bradley. “We met at pub night last week and we’ve been texting.”

“Texting?” Jake raises his eyebrows skeptically. He looks over at Bradley as though he expects him to express an opinion, but Bradley just rolls his eyes and shakes his head.

“Be careful,” your brother says, returning his attention to the plate of scrambled eggs before him.

You snort. “In what way?”

“In all ways,” Jake chimes in, clearly annoyed that Bradley has nothing else to add. “Guys are dicks so keep your guard up.”

You give Jake a humorous look. “Not all guys,” you say.

Jake nods at you. “All guys.”

You shake your head with a laugh. “This isn’t my first date, Jake.”

“Just work under the assumption that all guys are dicks, alright?” he says. “That way, when he turns out to be a dick, you won’t be shocked.”

You set down the jar of jam you’re holding and let out a sigh. Since the incident with couch girl, Jake has gone out with three different women, which, to be fair, is normal for him. Still, you’re just about done pining over your brother’s best friend, whose signals you’ve clearly misread. If guys are dicks, then Jake Seresin is exhibit A. “He’s actually super sweet,” you say, taking your toast out of the toaster.

“Don’t be fooled,” Jake mutters.

Bradley grimaces as he looks up at you. “He’s not wrong.”

“I have dated plenty of nice guys,” you say. “Just because the two of you are assholes to women, doesn’t mean all men are.”

Bradley claps a hand to his chest. “Me?” he cries in disbelief.

Jake puckers his lips and gives you a sheepish grin without disputing your claim.

“I’m not going into this with your negative energy,” you say, waving your arms at the two of them. “Because maybe he’s nothing like you.”

“One could hope.” Jake shrugs.

Bradley eyes him dubiously. “Just be careful,” he repeats.

“Don’t worry, it’s just dinner and a movie,” you say, bringing your breakfast to the table.

“What movie are you going to go see?” Jake asks.

“I don’t know,” you reply. “We’re going back to his place so probably something on Netflix.”

Jake sets down his fork and knife and stares at you. “You’re going where?”

You ignore Jake’s outburst and take a bite out of your toast. “I’ll be home late,” you say, mostly to Bradley. “So, don’t wait up.”

Jake stares at you. “You can’t just go to some random dude’s home,” he says.

You cock your head at him inquisitively. “Interesting advice coming from someone who brings home random girls almost daily.”

Jake presses his lips together and exhales moodily. “That’s different.”

Bradley smirks, eyeing him expectantly.

“How?” you ask.

Jake rises from his seat and lifts his coffee cup. “Do whatever you want,” he says. “Bradshaw, let’s go, we’re gonna be late.”

Bradley gives you a resigned sort of look and shoves one last piece of toast into his mouth. “I’m driving,” he says with his mouth full.

“You better not be blocking me in!” you yell at their backs as they head for the front door.

…

That night, your date drops you off at the end of your driveway, leaning in for a kiss before you exit his car. You give him a quick peck and a tight smile before stepping out of the vehicle, knowing that, despite the evening having been pleasant enough, you’re probably not going to pursue the relationship further.

He asks about seeing you later in the week and you peek back through his car window and respond with a polite maybe because perhaps the guy deserves another chance. You walk up to the porch as he drives away, and then try the door before searching for your keys in the dark.

The door is unlocked, so you walk in, flicking on the light, and the first thing you see is Jake as he steps away from the window facing the driveway and places his hands on his hips.

“He didn’t want to walk you to the door?” he asks sternly.

You grimace at him. “Why are you here?”

“Bradley had to stay late tonight so I came to make sure you got home alright.”

You blink at him coolly. “And that involves spying on me?”

“If I were spying on you, you wouldn’t know about it,” Jake retorts, starting for the kitchen. “You hungry?”

“I just came from dinner,” you remind him, taking off your heels.

You follow him into the kitchen, dropping your purse on the floor as you go. You’re suddenly feeling extremely tired. Jake opens the refrigerator and starts taking out ingredients for a meal while you walk past him and land on the couch in the living room. Jake cranes his neck to look at you over the island. “I’m making spaghetti,” he calls.

“Knock yourself out,” you reply, closing your eyes.

You hear Jake step around the island and enter the living room, and then you feel the depression of the couch as he plants himself down by your feet. You open your eyes again. “Yes?” you say.

Jake watches you blankly for a second before finally blurting out, “How’d it go?”

You furrow your eyebrows, still confused by his interest in your dating life. You pull your knees up so that your feet don’t keep sliding into him and pretend like you aren’t at all intrigued by his question. “Fine,” you respond nonchalantly.

Jake nods although he doesn’t look entirely satisfied with your answer. “Still think he’s nice?”

You eye him wryly. “Very.”

Jake raises his eyebrows. “Too nice?”

You make a face at him. “What’s too nice?”

Jake shrugs. “Boring.”

You give him a flat look. “This perspective explains so much,” you say, pointing at him reproachfully.

Jake laughs. “Girls don’t like nice guys.”

“I like nice guys!” you exclaim, sitting up with renewed energy.

Jake eyes you skeptically. “Sure, you do.” His gaze sweeps over your face in a slightly provocative manner and you get the sense again that he might be into you. And this possibility sends a rush through your body that makes your head spin. However, you remind yourself that, if this were, in fact, the case, Jake wouldn’t be going out and sleeping with a new woman every other night, because that would be counterintuitive. Besides, you are getting over him, anyway. You are well on your way to recovery.

You shake your head at him and lean your back into the armrest of the couch.

“You dressed up for him,” he notes, meeting your gaze as you glance up at him.

“Would you rather I undressed for him?” you ask pointedly.

Jake blinks at you uncomfortably. He looks like he might be sick. “Don’t joke about that,” he says, rubbing his forehead anxiously.

“You started it.”

“I just meant ” – he sighs without looking at you – “I just meant, you look good.”

“Then just say that,” you retort. “Without being a dick about it.”

He turns to look at you with an apologetic sort of cringe contorting his features. “Guess I’m not a ‘nice’ guy,” he mutters, complete with air quotes.

You stare at him, wondering if he’s hinting at something. You kick him in the leg with your foot. “Don’t be weird.”

He chuckles. “Come on,” he says, rising from the couch. “Let’s eat.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“But I want company,” he says with a slight whine, bending forward to grab your wrists and pull you up off the couch.

You let him lift you to your feet, your body crashing briefly into his while you find your balance. Jake releases you instantly and takes a step back, holding his hands up as though he doesn’t want to be held responsible for initiating the contact.

“Sorry,” he mutters quickly.

You give him a look. “I said, don't be weird, Jake.”

…

Three weeks later, you’re sitting with Jake on a patio, waiting for Bradley to bring the three of you drinks from the bar.

“Can I ask you a question?” you say tentatively, making sure that Bradley is still inside the pub.

“Shoot,” Jake responds, downing the last of his beer.

“It’s about my boyfriend,” you say.

Jake cringes. “He’s your boyfriend now?”

You shrug. “I mean, I guess. We haven’t really formally established our relationship status.”

Jake nods. “And you want out?”

“What? No!”

“What’s the question, then?” Jake raises his eyebrows.

“It’s about the sex,” you say, stirring your drink with your straw to avoid looking at him.

“The what?” Jake exclaims, reaching for his empty glass of beer and bringing it to his mouth before realizing there is nothing left.

You clear your throat and glance up at him, slightly mortified. “It’s… it’s good, it’s just” –

“Woah, woah, woah!” he shouts, leaping up from his seat as though your words have burned him. “I don’t want to hear about that!”

You give him a flat look. “Jake, I literally found you naked on my couch last month. The least you could do is give me some guidance.”

Jake squirms. “I’m not – I can’t,” he stammers. “I don’t think I can listen to this.”

“Why not?!”

Jake lets out a dramatic moan. “Why don’t you ask your brother?”

“For advice on my sex life?” you hiss.

“Don’t you have friends?” Jake asks, dropping back into his seat.

“I need a guy’s opinion.”

Jake lets out an irritable sigh and gives his head a slight shake to indicate that he’s still not on board with this turn of events. “Don’t you have guy friends?”

You nod. “I do. And you’re one of them. Are you not?”

Jake stares at you defeatedly. “How detailed is this going to get?”

You glance over your shoulder to check on the crowd of people waiting for drinks at the bar, looking for your brother. You spot him nowhere near the counter, chatting up a stunning brunette, and resolve that you have at least fifteen minutes alone with Jake. You turn back to him and say, “That depends on how helpful you want to be.”

Jake whimpers. “I have no alcohol left.”

You roll your eyes. “Have mine,” you say, sliding your cocktail across the bistro table.

Jake takes the glass from you, his hand wrapping momentarily around yours before you let go. “Okay,” he says, taking a big gulp. “I’m ready.”

“Okay,” you say with a hesitant sigh. “So, the thing is, he really wants to try” –

“Nope, no, nuh-uh,” Jake says, shaking his head. “I don’t want to know.” He buries his face in his hands.

“Dude, I need your help!”

“You want my advice? Here it is,” he says, leaning into the table so suddenly that you jerk backward just to prevent a collision between your two faces. “Doesn’t matter what he wants to try if you’re not comfortable with it.”

“But it’s” –

Jake holds up a hand. “I don’t care what it is. If you’re sittin’ here talkin’ to me about it, it means you don’t want to do it.”

You stare at him, wondering when Jake Seresin had the opportunity to amass such profound wisdom. You furrow your eyebrows. “Even if it’s, like, supposedly a normal thing people do?”

Jake hooks his eyebrow; you’ve piqued his interest. “That’s what he told you?”

You nod slowly.

Jake lets out a long, heavy breath through his nose, his lips pressed tightly together as his jaw clenches. He studies your face with a look of concern. “You tell that asshole that the next time he pressures you into doing anything, he’s going to have to deal with me.” Jake takes another swig of your cocktail and then adds, “And your brother, of course.”

You grimace. “He’s not pressuring me. It just… was brought to my attention that there is a particular thing that we could be doing – that many people do – that we’re not currently doing – that… ugh, it would be so much easier if you just let me tell you what the thing is!”

Jake places a hand on your knee. “If you tell me what the thing is, I might hurl.” You groan in frustration while Jake pats your leg sympathetically. He shakes his head. “I knew this guy was gonna be a dick.”

Read Part 5

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sweetyluvs · 2 years ago

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thigh riding with ellie. that’s all i ever want 🙏

no because this thought has been in my mind for months !!

you held onto ellie’s arms, her hands gripped your hips tightly; keeping them on track. Back and forth, up and down. soft whines and moans of her name slipping from your lips with eachjerk of her thigh rutting into your soaking cunt, her playful, clueless questions making you upset. “hm? what is it, doll?” she hummed out, her eyes staring down at the slick of your excitement smearing on her bare leg. “ngh.. ellie.. please..” you whimpered out, hope draining as your clit began to become sore from the consistent rubbing of the bud. “please what?” she said; her voice less playful and more harsh, grabbing your hips harder. You gasp, watching her watch you get off on her thigh had you feeling horny all over again. “use your fucking words, babe.” she said, her eyes finally trailing from her erotic pussy to your pleading eyes. You didn’t say anything, too shy to reply back. “i’m not doing anything for you until you say something.” you moaned when she shoved her thigh up, not quite doing what you’d hoped— but jamming your hips up and down, your clit being hit on repeat. Gasps of surprised echoed the room, soon turning into pleasure. Your hips instinctively bucked for more when she slowed down, and you continued on your own.

Hips trailing your pussy slowly along a little of her thigh before lifting up and slamming back down, each movement had the nub coursing with pleasure. “yeah, do it yourself..” ellie muttered, almost breathlessly upon seeing you actually doing it. when ellie began to continuously move her thigh in the opposite pattern of your hips, your clit was being banged every moment of the time you were on top of her, causing the familiar sensation to begin to bubble inside you again. You sped up your pace, moving your hands up ellie’s arms for support, her own hands not daring to leave you— fingers sure to leave bruises. “els.. i’m.. i’m gonna..” she hummed in acknowledgment, her leg continued to move. “okay, go again. fuckin’ slut.” the last words slipping from her mouth caused a loud moan to rip from you, pleasure coursing through your veins— much more than you would’ve thought thigh riding could’ve done for you. You shuttered when her hands began to make your hips move again, your fresh orgasm causing your clit to still be not only puffy, but even more sore. “ellie.. ellie— ngh,” you gasped, “i can’t…” she huffed out a sarcastic laugh. “you’ll do whatever I say. i mean; look at you,” she scanned you, and your cunt throbbed under her gaze. “you’ll do whatever i say.” you nodded, it wasn’t really a choice.

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glasskey · 2 days ago

Text

Episode 5

The Handmaid’s Tale is not a comedy, but this week there were a bunch of moments that were so darkly funny I couldn’t help but laugh. Let’s just run down this weeks highlights.

First victim this week was Lawrence. Poor Lawrence; he told Bell that no one liked or respected him and then found out that it was actually the other way around. To add insult to injury Lawrence finally learned that New Bethlehem was being used as a trap. Lawrence has done it again built a world that he believed would be better, only to have it corrupted by these black hearted little fuckers. Pretty sure that Lawrence will be happy to help Jezebels go boom boom once he squeezes the details out of June and Moira. These bombs at Jezebels are giving me a very season 4 vibe. Given that Blaine delivered those in Chicago, we’d all better hope that he continues to stay away from Jezebels in the future

Janine showed up to be reunited with June and Moira, with June asking her to come along and Moira saying no. It all seemed very reminiscent of Moira sneaking June back from Chicago. Just like Chicago, I’m not sure our Janine is going to be making it out. The fact that the letters got locked in the safe, speaks to how these women's voices are silenced once again.

June and Moira had a spat over who has the most PTSD and then almost on cue a beligerent rapey guardian walked in to bust up their discussion, giving the two of them the opportunity to work their shit out old school. Cleansing.

Luke in his usual style of going from 0 to 100 and all the way back down again, somehow clowns his way into a highly complex mission and then at the very first sign of a guardian he starts stammering like an idiot until they finally smack him to get him to stop. Realising how wildly incompetent he is both June and Moira throw up their hands and wisely make a run for it, leaving him behind. Time to shed some dead weight.

Turns out Serena will sell out her principles, and her eternal soul to the Prince of Darkness for a library. Guess all Tuello really ever needed to do was get her a voucher for Barnes & Noble and the whole thing would have been done and dusted season 5. Live and learn.

Last but not least, Nick Blaine stopped by the hospital to tie up some loose ends. Highlights for me included Blaine being called “an angel” (wrong kind of angel hun), and Nick talking about the little fellas doggy. They really cranked the volume up to 11 on this one. Apparently he’s just an innocent little guardian, who REALLY admires Nick and the first thing he wants when he wakes up is to see his dog. This was so obvious in it’s efforts to convince audiences that Blaine was now just murdering random innocents, that I laughed out loud. Is this The Handmaid’s Tale or Old Yeller? Fuck that stormtrooper. My black little heart can’t wait for the day that Blaine burns the whole place to ash.

This will obviously have wider repercussions, but I can’t help but notice that ALL of this is the direct result of Luke and Moira’s decision to lie to June and fuck off to Mayday. Once again Nick is left to clean up the mess, he’ll get no thanks of course and end up paying the price. But honestly, what would you have him do? Tuello won’t let him leave across the border, he had to protect June, Luke and Moira, and last but not least, if he’s found to be a rebel not only he, but all the members of his household will end up on the wall. So yeah. Not really feeling the villain vibe here.

As a side note, this episode kicked in at less than 40 minutes which is pretty poor, especially for a last season. Fans have been buttered up by the PR machine for over a month about how jam packed this season was going to be and how this was Nick and June’s season. Here I am watching ridiculously short episodes with milked sections of dialogue tying up precious time and once again crammed with Luke and June trying to resuscitate their long dead relationship. It was bad in season 4, it was worse in season 5, now it’s just torture. Blaine is a fan favourite, where is he? Nick and June and Serena and June are fan favourite character dynamics, where are they? Exactly how is this a season designed for the fans? Apart from June reuniting with her mother and episode 3, the season so far has been somewhat lack lustre. Perhaps it would have time to get off the ground, but with episodes this short, it barely stands a chance.

#the handmaids tale hulu #hulu streaming #elisabeth moss #max minghella #june x nick #nick x june #nick blaine #june osborne #osblaine #the handmaid's tale #handmaid's on hulu #tht season 6

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jobrolion · 7 months ago

Text

𝒻𝓇𝑜𝓂 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓂𝑜𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔

mista x gn!reader

summary | you first met mista when he came to the bakery you worked at, and almost every monday after he would entertain you while you were on the clock.

notes | fluff and some kissing, reader is referenced to be inexperienced

wc | 1819

****

Mista came to the bakery you worked at almost every Monday after his first visit a year ago. And he always ordered the same thing. A cappuccino and a cornetto pastry with jam filling, the day he asked you out it was strawberry.

The door chimed and you locked eyes with him as he closed the door behind himself. He breathed in the air that smelled of flour and yeast, sugar and spices, and he tried to catch yours too, to no avail.

“Good morning, Mista. How are you?” It was always a genuine question and you always got a genuine answer. You were already getting his order together, moving to the side to make his drink.

“Much better now that I’m here. Slow morning?”

“A little, the rain is keeping people away. Not you, thankfully.” You smiled brightly at him, “The jam flavor today is strawberry, but you could always switch it up and get a custard or chocolate?”

“Nice try.” He tsked your name, sitting on the stool by the counter facing you. Nobody else was in the bakery so he could keep you to himself for the time being.

After sliding him his coffee and pastry, you leaned on the counter, sipping your drink as he started on his.

“Excuse me if I’m overstepping a boundary here, but where’d you get the bruise under your eye? Are you ok?”

“I’m fine now. Just one of the perks of being a mafioso.”

You paused, staring at him for a moment before letting out an undignified snort.

“Be serious, Mista.” You said between laughs. “If you don’t want to tell me that’s ok.”

“Gotta keep the mystery.”

“I guess so.” For as long as he’d been coming in he’d been enigmatic, this was part of the appeal.

For an hour you both talked, never a lull in conversation, before the rain stopped and customers started pouring in.

“Until we meet again.” He bowed with an exaggerated wink.

“See you, Mista.” You curtsied in return, waving him off.

When you got off of work you went straight into your errands. Your day off was tomorrow and you wanted it to be strictly for leisure.

After visiting the post office you took your time at the grocery store. As your job you baked pastries and breads, but your true passion lies with cooking. So you browsed ingredients and brainstormed new recipes to experiment with.

You had your eye on the freshly made pasta and the display of mushrooms. They were practically begging to be taken home. A cream based sauce would do nicely with them and the herbs you grew in your garden and the spices you kept in your cabinet.

You made conversation with the cashier as they rang you out. You left for your car once they were done and what you owed was paid.

Before you could start the ignition you saw a shadow and heard a knock on your window. Clear as day, Guido Mista was there outside your car, waiting with a grin. You exited your car and matched his enthusiasm.

“Small world, huh?”

Mista laughed, a little nervously and stared for a moment before…

“I just uh- I have something to ask you. It’s been slowly eating away at me, but I’ve never been able to ask you because it feels wrong to while you’re working and I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable or anything. And I will never show up to the bakery ever again if you ask me to so don’t hesitate to tell me off or-”

“What are you trying to get at?” Patience is a virtue, but the man in front of you was struggling.

“Would you want to maybe get dinner with me sometime?” He was actually wringing his fingers. This man would shamelessly flirt with you every time he came into your work and here he was sweating over asking you out.

“Like a date?”

“Exactly like a date.”

“I’d really like that, Mista. Are you free tomorrow night?”

It was a date. He chose the location and picked you up at 7 the next day. But before that, you fretted over what to wear and how you were going to act. This was not going to be the same as all those Monday mornings he’d spend at your bakery. You tried to calm down, it’s just Mista, the funny, flirty guy who entertains you while you’re on the clock. But it’s also Mista, the man you’d been crushing on for over half a year now who made your cheeks hot to the touch and your heart flutter.

When he picked you up, he knocked on your door, a single rose in his hand and a blush across his cheeks. You smiled as he gave it to you.

“Watch there's a thorn right there.”

You looked and sure enough there was a thorn where you were about to place your hand. “Where did you get this, Mista?”

“That’s top secret.”

“I’m flattered that you’d steal a rose for me, touching really.”

His cheeks flushed a darker shade of red and stayed that way as he took your hand.

“Where are you taking me?”

“The Libeccio. It’s a favorite of mine. The food is to die for.”

“I pass it on my way to work, I’m excited to try it!”

When you arrived, you were seated in a candle lit corner by a darkened window. It was obvious to you that this was planned and that warmed your heart.

After you ordered you noticed a group of young men who kept glancing over and looking away quickly, talking hushedly amongst themselves.

“Mista, don’t look now, but those guys over there keep looking at us.”

He did look, and immediately a panic washed over his face.

“What’s wrong? Do you know them?”

“Ah so this is embarrassing. They’re my friends.” He simplified it. “They kind of didn’t believe that you said yes. I didn’t think they’d actually show up. I’m really sorry.”

“Some friends, huh?”

Mista laughed nervously, “Yeah, something like that.”

Truth was, the rest of Bucciarati’s team knew of his infatuation with you, but not only did they doubt the date, but they also doubted your existence. So apparently, they had taken it upon themselves to settle the matter by spying on Mista.

“Should we ignore them?”

A sharp nod was your answer, so the two of you averted your eyes for the rest of the meal. He did assure you later that they meant well and were excited for him, despite them not believing him fully.

The date went as well as it could have, disregarding that minor incident. And before you knew it, you were already back on your doorstep.

“I’m glad you asked me out, Mista. I was too afraid to.” You confessed.

“Really? What about me is so frightening?” He looked over himself, faux concern painting his features which made you laugh, making him drop the act, smiling.

Mista then took your hand in his and leaned in, leaving a soft kiss on your cheek. As he pulled away, you guided his face towards yours and kissed his lips. You swore you short circuited, having never felt a spark like this with anyone before. After a moment, you hesitantly pulled away.

“Will I see you Monday?” You said breathlessly.

“Without a doubt.”

Two more Monday’s came and went before Mista asked you for a second date. This time you were on your feet all day, exploring the city, stopping occasionally for a break, once at a cafe and once at a fountain, and many times to steal kisses from each other. You wished you could fit more hours in a day, never would you want this one to end.

After dinner at a hole in the wall restaurant Mista asked if you wanted to come back to his place for a while.

You were hesitant. Before him you had barely ever kissed anybody, and you had never gone back to anyone's house for anything, ever.

But you trusted Mista and you wanted to spend more time with him, so you said yes.

His apartment was small and simple, a stark contrast to his personality, but it somehow suited him. It was comfortable with ambient lighting and a neutral color pallet. He offered you a glass of water which you accepted. Standing by his kitchen counter you smiled, thanking him for the time you spent together.

“I should be the one thanking you, I haven't had a day this nice in too long ”

Eventually you both migrated to his couch, sitting closer than you really had to. After a few more short remarks about the day, he leaned in, pressing a short kiss to your cheek.

“Kiss me here, Mista.” You pointed to your lips, eyes piercing his.

He complied, kissing you fully and passionately, hands finding their way to your face, holding you sweetly.

It could have been a minute or an hour that you sat there worshiping each other's lips. But then he placed a hand on your waist and a groan escaped him, taking you by surprise, you pulled back.

“Shit, my bad. I don't want to cross any lines here.”

“It's ok.” You laughed nervously. “It’s just that I’ve never gone any further than this with anyone. I don’t know if I want that tonight.”

“Then we take this at your pace, alright?” Your heart filled with adoration, all anxieties washing away with a single sentence.

“Is more of this ok?”

“Take the lead.”

After a while, you startled when you noticed the time. You hated to go, but you had to open the bakery the next day.

“I’ll see you Monday?”

“You'll see me sooner.”

Mista drove you home. Even after this, it was like nothing changed. You could still talk endlessly and being with him just felt natural. A year of Mondays brought the two of you closer week by week until now when you swore you were already in love.

He kissed you at your doorstep and watched as you closed the door behind you. And when he was sure you couldn’t see him he pumped his fist in the air and headed back to his car. But you did see him and now you were certain you were in love.

As you opened the bakery early the next morning you lamented another rainy day. The gray sky a sharp contrast to your sunny disposition. A dreary middle of the week Wednesday promised little to no customers which meant you got to spend the day alone.

When you finished your opening tasks, you sat with a drink and waited. Fixing the displays and cleaning could only keep you occupied for so long.

As you took the last sip, the door chimed and you turned your head to see Mista greeting you with a wave and a smile.

****

title reference

from the morning - nick drake

#mista x reader #guido mista x reader #jjba x reader #jojo x reader

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brf-rumortrackinganon · 24 days ago

Note

That's the issue with Meghan, for me: she's trying to look innocent, but she's not stopping her attack dogs. Disavow the Squad first, publicly and unequivocally - then we can take her jams and her teas at face value.

- I disagree with this anon because this is what Meghan wanted the brf to do for her. Why would Meghan do this for the brf when they didn’t do this for her when she wanted them to. I’m not saying the brf should have done it, but it’s pretty much one of Meghan’s complaints. She was fed to the wolves, according to her. And I mean, let’s face it, the SMM side of Meghan haters are almost as bad as the squad.

Also, I don’t really know what Meghan has done lately. I can’t remember the last time she’s actually done something truly despicable. She’s been staying on her lane, as far as we know.

No, what Meghan wanted the BRF to do was censorship. She wanted them to smack every single critic - whether print media, television media, or social media - with an executive order saying “keep her name out of your filthy mouth” and a restraining order enforcing it.

The BRF can’t do that. The BRF is a quasi-official government organization and they cannot censor the press without it becoming a constitutional crisis or a dereliction of duty. The best the BRF can do is institute “rules of engagement”, which they did. Should they have done more? Yes, absolutely. But could they have done more? No, not without violating the social contract with their public. Not the press, not the media, the public.

That is not the boat Meghan is in. Meghan is not a government agency. She’s not a political institution. She’s a celebrity with toxic fans. Celebrities check their toxic fans and tell them to stop.

#sussexes

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aroui · 2 years ago

Text

for you

it’s crowded in the cafe but at least a pretty boy approached you, right?

a lyney and reader meet-cute :)

“uh, mind if i sit here?”

in a jam-packed cafe, lyney had no other choice but to sit on the chair opposite of yours. as much as you wanted to protect your peace, you had no choice but to give it up for the attractive stranger in front of you.

“sure,” you replied. it’s impossible anyways, peace was never an option on friday afternoons. you shift your attention back to your laptop, opting to continue your work. as much as you wanted to stare at the pale-haired fellow.

sitting right next to a window wasn’t that great of an idea either. the gazes of passersby are starting to linger a few seconds longer on the person in front of you, it’s almost like he’s putting up a show.

though, you couldn’t blame them. he was pretty, clad in formal clothes that complement his lithe form so well, with hair so bright and eyes so colorful you could get lost in them–

but, you wanted to know what his plans are after this. after all, you never know when you’ll meet another individual as interesting as the one in front of you right now.

“are you going somewhere?” you speak.

“it’s my outfit, isn’t it?” he asks sheepishly. you curtly nod.

“ah, well, i’m a performer of sorts,”

“really?”

“really,”

“wow,”

the conversation quickly ends in awkward silence. he hasn’t finished his drink, your paperwork isn’t even nearly done.

well–

“would you like to see a magic trick?”

“so, you’re a magician?” you raise an eyebrow, suddenly even more interested.

“you answered my question with another?”

“you just did what i did,” you point at him, although it’s without malice. you just wanted to learn about what interests him, that’s all.

“just,” he sighs, “‘yes’ or ‘no’?”

a pause.

“ok,” you breathe out. there’s no harm, right?

he pulls out a deck of cards, spreading it out on the table with the back of the cards facing up. he pulls one out with an image of a flower on it. it looks familiar, though you can’t remember its name.

he flips it, the back of the card now facing you. then, he flips it again.

but instead of an image, it’s an actual one.

a flower.

“woah!” you laugh heartily. it was no funny joke or trick, but something about his actions made you feel so giddy and full inside that you couldn’t help but let a smile take over your face.

“for you,” he reaches for your hand and you let him. you let him put the flower in your grasp.

you can’t help but eye the multitude of pigments that the flower is showing. blink and the color you’re looking at is gone, as if the flower was aware of your watchful eyes.

“thank you, um,”

“lyney,” he smiles and your heart skips a beat.

“it’s nice to meet you, lyney,”

“likewise,” he says your name, the letters softly rolling out of his tongue.

#genshin impact x reader #fluff #lyney x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin x you #genshin x reader #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact fluff #genshin lyney #lyney x you #genshin impact lyney #lyney #genshin impact #genshin #to get rid of writer’s block #this man has been plaguing my mind ever since i got him #lyney x y/n

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nomoreusername · 8 months ago

Text

The Past

Pairing:Gally x female reader

Summary:When you want to find the truth, you inject yourself with a stinger.

It was a bad idea. Maybe. Probably.

Yeah. It was a really dumb idea.

Nevertheless, I barely hesitated to do said idea.

I don't trust many people. I don't think any of this makes sense. I don't think Teresa and I have any correlation to the Maze.

I had to know for sure though.

That's why I stabbed myself with the Griever stinger before anybody could actually register it. I grabbed the stinger and jammed it into my leg, immediately sending me to the ground. The world around me blurred as my eyes shut.

I seemed to be floating outside of my body, watching years and years ago. I mean I’m assuming so, judging by the way that I seemed to be watching a smaller me interacting with somebody familiar.

“I don't want them to take me,”I whispered, clinging to someone who was so close to my memory yet I couldn't put my finger on it.

“It’ll be okay. I’ll see you soon,”the boy promised.

I know that face and voice. I swear I do, but everything's a mess. Everything is blurry.

“Alby, I don't trust them,”I pleaded.

“But-”

“I know you don't, but you have to go with them. Just for now,”He pushed.

“Y/N, it's-”

“Y/N, look at me,”He pushed, his voice firm and urgent. I stood straight up as I did as he said, wiping my eyes a little. “Listen to them for now. It's the only way we’re safe. Okay?”

“Okay,”I nodded.

“We just-”

“Don't touch her,”Alby interrupted, pulling me behind him.

“It's just-”

“She doesn't like being touched,”Alby said firmly.

“So do not touch her. Ever,”He warned.

“Fine. Y/N, come on.”

The words were slurred again despite people’s lips moving. I looked closely, almost squinting as I attempted to read them.

I didn't get that done before that feeling came back. The feeling of the world being one dimension. The feeling of everything being a rush.

Until it wasn't.

Until I was watching younger but slightly older me, standing in a room with what seemed to be Teresa.

“I don't know anyone. Not really. Only Thomas and Ava,”She admitted, her voice quiet.

“You can know me? If you’d like?”I offered.

“You wouldn't mind?”

“Why would I mind?”

“Because . . . you know?”

Know what?

“I do, but I’ll still be your friend?”I smiled.

“Really?”

“Yeah. What's your name?”

“I’m Teresa,”She introduced, slowly holding out her hand to give me the option to shake her hand. Not demanding. Truly offering.

“I’m Y/N,”I introduced, accepting it.

The moment was sweet and genuine. It also explained why I had felt so drawn to Teresa, so determined to trust her.

Because some part of me knows her.

That was ruined by that blurry feeling though, as I was forced into some other time, some other memory that was barely a blur.

“We can trust her, Gally. She's my friend.”

First Alby, then Teresa, now Gally? What the hell? Do I just know everyone in the Glade?

“Well, I don't trust her. Not one bit,”He argued.

“Well, I trust her. Isn't that enough?”

“It usually is, but not for something like this.”

“For something like WC-”

“For something like what? Just stop dancing around it, and spit it out already.”

“Y/N,”a firm yet almost soft, enthusiastic voice greeted. I snapped my head at the same time as younger me to see younger Alby.

“Alby,”I greeted back, running up and swiftly throwing my arms around him. He hugged me back, relief written all over his face.

“Have you been okay lately?”

“As good as it gets in here,”I shrugged, pulling away.

“And you’ve been behaving in front of them, right?”

“Ehh. I’m working on that part.”

I turned around at the sound of footsteps to see that Gally was leaving, hands in his pockets as he thought about whatever that conversation was.

What was it though? I don't quite get it. Everything is so vague, and it's like something is almost clicking but not quite ready.

I didn't get to find out though, before I was in front of a new scene. One with a slightly older but still younger Teresa.

“It's just odd sometimes, you know? Being in this one space with one person almost all day, every day. It's isolating,”She ranted.

“It’d be weird if it didn't seem like that sometimes,”I shrugged.

“It's supposed to be the right thing though, and I want to do the right thing. I have to do the right thing.”

“You don't have to do anything. You want to do the right thing. It’s different,”I argued.

“Not with them, it's not,”She mumbled.

“There's always a choice. Granted, it might have consequences, but there are choices nevertheless.”

“I don't even know what the consequences would be. That means I have to keep doing this, for everyone.”

“For the world you mean?”

“Yeah. For the world,”She nodded.

What is Teresa doing for the world though? What am I missing?

As the world blurred, it was clear I wouldn't find out here.

“Just trust her, okay? We can trust her,”I almost pleaded, back to standing in front of Gally.

“No. I can't trust her. I won't.”

“Gall, just for a little? Just give her a chance? She deserves that,”I said firmer.

“I can't just give her a chance. If it was different, fine, but it isn't. Her side is different.”

Side? What side? What am I missing?! What exactly am I missing?!

“She's conflicted, but she isn't bad. I have trust in her. I always have.”

“And it's great. It's great that you can see the good, but I don't. I just can't.”

Why is she bad? How could she be? She's one of the only people here I’ve actually liked. She's been nothing but kind, and having another girl there has been a lifesaver.

I didn't get to think about that either as the world did the obnoxious blur thing that made me want to rip my hair off yet again.

“Would you have done it any differently? If you knew it would end like this?”

Gally’s voice was much softer this time and far more kind. It was sympathetic even. Even though the words could have been described as gotcha, it was clear they weren't meant to be like that.

“No. Not really,”I answered.

The memories were strange. They were in order, but I can't tell what it means. There's surely supposed to be another message, but said message is unclear.

“You’ll miss me though, right?”He whispered.

My expression dropped as I looked at him. Without a word, I grabbed his hand, lacing our fingers together.

“I’ll miss you every day,”I whispered, placing my free hand on his cheek.

Every part of me burned as it felt like I was intruding on a moment I wasn't supposed to see. Even though they're my own memories, the closeness seemed private, like I had to cover my eyes.

What was even more surprising is that he kissed back. He put his free hand behind my head and accepted the kiss with a kind of gentleness I didn't know he had.

Without a word, I pressed my lips against his for just a moment. Even though I kind of expected it, I was still caught off guard. I mean me kissing someone isn't something I could predict, much less me kissing someone I currently know.

I didn't get to see that side for long before the blur came back even worse. Nobody was talking, but there were voices that were far too loud and blending together. Everything was turning dark as well, like my eyes were being forced shut.

“Think she’ll wake up soon?”

Wake up? Why do I need to wake up?

“I think so. She has to, right?”

As I had this hell of a headache, I found myself staring at light. Squinting, I covered my eyes as I very slowly sat up.

“Hey, are you okay?”

I uncovered my face to see Gally. Immediately, my face burned at the memory from who knows how long ago. And he doesn't even know.

Speaking of not knowing, what about Teresa? I have to talk to her, right? See if I can find out what happened?

“I’m fine. Teresa though, where is she?”

“Why?”He asked quickly.

“Why what?”

“If we can sacrifice them to-”

“Why does it matter where she is? All of this is because of her and Thomas.”

“Where is Teresa?”I repeated.

Not needing to hear anything else, I stood up, rushing past him and out the door. The second I stepped out, I saw chaos all around me, fire having burned the Glade to the ground and destruction everywhere. Absolutely nothing was saved. Nothing.

It can't be her fault though.

“Do you see? Our home is gone,”He justified, walking out and standing beside me.

“She doesn't have anything to do with it,”I restated.

“Y/N, her and Thomas are trouble. They have been from the start.”

“So Teresa is trouble, but I wasn't?”

“It's just different, okay?”

“Why? Because we kiss?”

“What?”He asked quickly, the confusion at my words becoming clear as day. I internally cringed at my hotheaded words as I remembered that he doesn't know.

And right now my instincts are telling me to look for them.

It doesn't matter though. I have to get Teresa and Thomas. Even if I seem like the worst person ever for this, even if I’m wrong, I have to follow my instincts.

#gally x y/n #gally x you #gally x reader #tmr gally #gally tmr #gally maze runner #maze runner gally #the maze runner #tmr #one shot

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