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fraugwinska · 3 months ago

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I'm so in love with your writing!!!! If you are doing requests could you write about the first time Alastor and his darling spend the night together? Maybe they are up late listening to music and his darling suggests he stay the night. They are new to the whole relationship thing and Alastor is awkward but agrees. Could be a touch spicy but mostly just fluff. <3

I did a unique take on this, I hope you don't mind, my lovely Anon? I had the inspiration for it in a fleeting moment and just started to type, remembering your ask... And I kinda love what came out of it! :> As always, @macabr3-barbi3 was my rock and my anchor during the writing process - you have too much patience with me, love! <3

And a huge 'Thank you' to the lovely, ever-so-talented @minkdelovely for prereading this for me to find the perfect title for this story. You are both an inspiration and a delight, and I truly appreciate you, my darling!

Kissing was something Alastor had slowly gotten used to. Kissing you, that is.

You had made it easy for him, he'd give you that. Patience is a virtue rarely found in hell, but when the turning point in his friendship with you tipped the scale to the side of more amorous realms, the Radio Demon, normally superior and confident, had found himself to be exceedingly useless. The lines between companionship and partnership were drawn by his mind rather than physical barriers, and crossing them alone had been a tremendous effort for him. Alastor had never thought he'd feel anything for another sinner, hell, the bare concept of feeling was generally strange to him.

Love was something that had been intimately intertwined with the feeling he had for his mother. So pure, and so lost and unretrievable after her untimely death. To feel this similar yet completely different kind of love for you? Unimaginable, and yet, there you were. And with an unbelievable ease you slowly took root in his mind, weaving your way into his thoughts and settling in his heart without you putting in real conscious effort. Had your encounters been mostly accidental and brief at first, Alastor found himself longing to walk into you more and more before actively seeking your company. To you, he was never unwelcome, in complete contrast to the other residents of the hotel, who tended to avoid or flee from him whenever they could. Whether he would be annoyingly chatty in amusement, hurtful in cold anger or buzzing with excitement (and sometimes murderous glee) - you entertained his whims, listened intently or soothed him with a few chosen words, always finding the right ones.

You shift in his arms, your head leaning a little in to grant his hungry mouth better access to yours with a small, delicious sigh, ignoring or maybe even blissfully unaware that your lips must've caught on his teeth somewhere along the line and ripped open, thin, beautiful crimson lines slowly running down the sides of your mouth. He always said that red suited you best.

Your differences made you quite an odd sight in hell's scenery. What many could only admire with a good dose of fear was never scary to you and the fact you openly regarded the Radio Demon with polite respect and genuine endearment left quite an impression on the others - so much so that it had earned you the hushed title 'Daddy-Deer Whisperer', bestowed by the ever-so-childish Angel Dust. It was when he caught you scolding Angel for using that expression and spreading his usual slander about him with a rare display of open anger that he first felt the gentle tug in his chest that has since remained whenever you were near Alastor. At first, he had shrugged it off as another of his eccentricities, or perhaps hunger pangs he hadn't fulfilled for a while (A very likely thing given his... appetite). But it persisted whenever you looked at him with that little smile on your lips, and he knew. Knew that he had to have you, and that you would be his, in good time. He could never have imagined how easy that would turn out to be, how accommodating to his needs you were from the moment you acknowledged his advances, and were able to keep up with his admittedly glacial pace from then on. While no one dared to ridicule him to his face, the others were comfortable enough around you to tease you for having a partner that seemed so uninterested in physical attention. Well.

While they were not completely mistaken, they didn't know all there was to Alastor the demon with the eternal smile. The foreignness of what it meant to touch and love and the, he had to say it, pitiful lack in experience made Alastor hesitant for the first time in both of his lifes. How could he publicly display his affections when he could barely bring himself to show them in the confines of your company alone? Yet you never demanded anything physical from him, and he realized with a startle that you were perfectly content with just being with him. Where it had taken him weeks to consider kissing you for the first time, it took another couple or so to slowly allow his touches to drift from a brief grasp on an elbow or waist to a tighter grip, resting a hand at the small of your back, enjoying the sensation of your hip bone gently pressing into his palm, pulling you a little bit closer as your hands ran over his arms. In his embrace your arms found their natural place on his shoulders, the weight becoming familiar and calming to him. Until one day, it wasn't anymore. One day he noticed, truly recognized the feeling of you in his arms and found himself struggling not to pull you even closer. And without much thinking, his lips had been on yours, chaste almost and testing, savoring the contact and tasting you without the need to devour. And he found that with you, only you, just a taste was so much more satiating.

It was the first of many kisses shared, but to Alastor, this one held a special significance. You had been stunned, yes, but when he withdrew, overstimulated and unsure of his actions, he found neither judgment or reproach, only a silent smile and a hint of blush on your cheeks before you had returned the affection in your own, respectful way that he appreciated so much - soft pressure and warmth enveloping his hands - and a change of topic, easing him into a lighthearted conversation that had lasted hours, just to calm his nerves. Since then, Alastor has held on to these memories, his firsts with you. And there were countless - all kept near to your heart. Charlie, Angel and Niffty could pester you with any intrusive, interrogating question, you would only smile at them and repeat the same sentiment: What you see is the only thing you get to know.

"Alastor?"

"Hm?" Your voice pulls him out of his thoughts, and his eyes focus on your beautiful face where he sees your brows furrowed with what he learned is concern.

"Is everything okay? You seemed to be somewhere else."

Ah, you were worried. For him. As you always were, so susceptible to his needs, as if it was natural to you. Another peculiarity and yet an incredibly welcome thing for a creature like him who found himself on the receiving end of unreciprocated concern very, very rarely.

"Just a little lost in thought is all, my dear."

"We can stop you know, it's almost midnight anyway." you say softly, your hands streaking soothingly over his arm as they slowly retreat from his shoulders.

He pauses, debating if the sensation of your fingertips touching the soft skin below his buzzed undercut, coupled with a very, very warm and inviting kiss had been enough. Had it ever been? Enough? It wasn't that you ever had any expectations of what would come after, seemingly content with anything he'd allow you to have - a softly spoken praise, an elegant compliment or even just peaceful silence before he'd take his leave. And knowing this Alastor suddenly is... displeased with the idea of this moment not lasting.

His claws wrap around your hands, a gentle pull guiding them back to their rightful place, back to the nape of his neck. He enjoys the rare sight of your surprised and red-flushed face before he let his lips trail your jawline, relishing in the way your skin breaks into goosebumps under his mere breath and fleeting touch before he speaks.

"I'm not so sure about that. Being able to stop, that is."

And he's true to his words. A searing fire is lit when your lips meet his again and his body tenses as he tries and fails to restrain the feeling it coaxes within him. Alastor wants to stay this time, wants to hold this miraculous thing that loves him so undeservingly close, wants to experience the feeling of skin on skin in your pristine bed sheets as he allows himself a rare night of sleep, with your sweet sighs as his lullaby and soft body as his covers. Another first with you, to add to the collection. And while you were always willing to indulge him, he feels, in the way you were pressing into him in cautious urgency, the whine that slips beyond the restriction of your bitten lips and the tremble of your fingers that you weaved into his hair, that this is - finally - what you, maybe for the first time, selfishly crave for, too.

Patience is a virtue, yes, but after all this saintly time he'd allow the both of you the sin of greed for a night.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel fanfiction #fraugwinskawrites #alastor fluff #the fluff fairy strikes again!#A pinch of tension #Alastor is bad at having feelings #what else is new #gravitational pull #kiss the deer

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yanderes-galore · 2 months ago

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Yandere rivals between Vaggie and Angel dust who both grown attached to overlord reader ? Platonic please and hcs if possible

I was a bit unsure how to do this at first... but I think there's some interesting dynamics between characters to explore here.

Part of me wants to write something separate for the dynamic you, Angel, and Val have in this. That seems good enough on its own to explore. ALSO! So sorry it got complicated... I had too many thoughts I lost the plot half the time.

@okchijt helped me enrich the rivalry portion near the end.

Yandere! Platonic! Vaggie vs Platonic! Angel Dust with Overlord! Darling

(FT. Alastor + Valentino + Charlie)

Pairing: Platonic - Rivalry

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Stalking, Overprotective behavior, Trauma, Violence, Abuse (Angel and Val), Unhealthy coping mechanisms, Implied Manipulation, Dubious companionship(s).

At first it's a bit difficult to see where you can place another Overlord.

Vaggie would naturally struggle to trust another Overlord based on the ones she's seen/interacted with.

Same thing with Angel due to the fact his soul is owned by an Overlord.

So, both of these characters obsessing over an Overlord is... strange.

The only thing I can think of is you're an Overlord supporting the hotel.

One thing the two share in common is their care for Charlie, no matter how ridiculous her ideas are.

So maybe you're an Overlord who's investing in or just interested in the hotel and its inhabitants.

You'd often come to the hotel to speak with Charlie, not usually going out of your way to have soul deals with anyone there (as per an agreement with Charlie).

This could be a way to get you on good terms with the two.

HOWEVER, This ALSO creates unique relationships between you and Alastor/Valentino.

I imagine Overlords tend to have a territory.

They don't typically want free Overlords in their space or touching their property.

Which means, a new Overlord would catch the attention of Alastor and Val.

First of all, Alastor will notice you often around the hotel and Charlie.

While his role is being a defender of the hotel and yours is simply supplying it, Alastor may feel a bit threatened... or even interested when it comes to your presence.

There's a good chance you can actually get along with Alastor if you aren't a threat... maybe.

When it comes to Val, however?

None whatsoever.

Val would hate you interacting with Angel.

Especially when Angel gets attached.

So, I feel a rivalry like this might come off as complex.

Even more so with the fact you're an Overlord.

Vaggie becomes close to you because you both care for Charlie.

You're seen as an ally and she respects your abilities.

Plus, you're more respectable than most other Overlords here.

She's always found Alastor... shifty.

Vaggie comes off as an overprotective yandere, even if you're a strong Overlord.

Actually, that fact alone makes Vaggie want to protect you due to Alastor.

Alastor no doubt wants to make a deal with you due to your power.

Power is his end game and he isn't sure if Charlie would even need you to be an Overlord.

He can handle it, so why not make a deal with him to give over your power?

Vaggie is often the one trying to keep one (or two) Overlords off your back.

It's originally because she doesn't want Charlie to stress or worry.

But later it's because she genuinely cares about you, Overlord or not.

Angel is a bit more dependent when attached.

At first he pays you no mind.

Oh great, another Overlord to force their way into things.

As if Alastor and Val aren't enough.

He tries not to pay you any mind, often ignoring you.

However, maybe you comfort him after an argument with Val.

You notice him covered in marks and become oddly attentive.

He originally tries to push away, telling you off while he tries to isolate himself.

He finds the idea of an Overlord being caring odd.

Even Alastor does it to get his way.

Yet... You appear to be genuinely concerned...

He hates that he enjoys it.

What may solidify his attachment is you standing up to Val or something.

That or just defending Angel in general.

With you he feels less... guarded.

He knows being around you pisses Val off.

At times Angel gets concerned for your well-being because Val can be dangerous as a Vee.

Yet you try to reassure him you're alright with it.

Even though Angel tries to distance himself for your sake... He can never stay away for long.

Oof... Things just get messy when Angel's attached.

Mostly because Val is erratic and temperamental.

ALL OF THAT and I have yet to discuss Vaggie and Angel actually fighting.

See what I mean by this is more complicated than I thought it would be?

Vaggie and Angel can agree on one thing... you're helpful, sweet, and important to them.

The two also tend to keep you away from two other Overlords.

You're meddling where you shouldn't, even if you don't mean to, but these two act as good allies to you.

I don't imagine their rivalry gets too violent.

They wouldn't try to end one another, mostly it's just arguments on who cares for you better.

But it's not like you're all that vulnerable.

No, you're an Overlord, most of the time you're caring for them.

You help Vaggie be more confident in helping Charlie and even give helpful suggestions and supplies to Charlie herself.

With Angel you often try tending to his wounds, talking to him, and trying to help him cope in a less destructive way than vices (Alcohol, Drugs, Smoking.)

He doesn't listen all the time but he does somewhat appreciate the sentiment.

The two fighting is mostly due to you being occupied with the other or the Overlords upset with you.

Vaggie tends to blame Angel for Val's actions towards you.

It's often a heat of the moment kind of thing, she doesn't entirely mean it but it slips.

Meanwhile Angel thinks Vaggie only cares about you due to Charlie.

Angel may even say Vaggie couldn't defend you from Alastor or that you're being used in some way.

It's all mostly petty but it ruins the bond between them.

Much to Charlie's dismay.

Alastor may comment on their behavior with you.

He muses that they act like lost children in your presence.

He finds it all very amusing.

He also finds it strange you managed to get them to both like you... even more so to this point.

He may even ask if you have ulterior motives, which you don't share.

Motives or not, the two probably would still care for you if they bicker this much over your "care".

Val just seems to get aggressive with you.

He claims you're stealing Angel from him, to which you decline.

You're merely helping Angel, which makes Val more frustrated.

The Vees are never good with their temper.

It's so easy for you two to fight.

You may even come back to the hotel with wounds, leaving Vaggie concerned and Angel guilty.

You help the two in many ways.

Be it from actual care or benefiting yourself... it yields the same result.

Charlie congratulates you for befriending them and helping the hotel...

Yet she is concerned about them at times.

Charlie often has to prevent the two from fighting.

She'd also be concerned about you and Val's fighting.

Both yandere are mostly overprotective.

Angel may also be clingy when he's vulnerable but he tries not to be.

This rivalry, as petty or light as it is, comes with many moving parts.

You're less concerned with Vaggie and Angel... and more concerned about the other bonds they have and how you complicate them.

I don't know, I no doubt overcomplicated the request, but it's genuine thoughts and concerns I have when thinking of these two.

Overall, I feel their rivalry is more petty than anything.

They themselves wouldn't hurt you as you're an Overlord... but the two end up hating each other.

It's a bit difficult for me to see them fighting though... as due to how complicated these dynamics are, the two would probably just learn to share.

You help them both, they help you, they may not need to fight.

Even if they shared though... I can see arguments occurring due to Alastor and Val.

The two wouldn't be able to kidnap you or manipulate you too much.

Murdering people for you? Sure, I can see that.

They're both protective and capable... but would they need to?

Lesser demons don't come near you and they can't kill Overlords.

Oof... you having the Overlord title in general makes this complicated too....

Vaggie is protective and isolating, wanting you to focus on the hotel more than Angel to make Charlie happy.

She makes herself your personal assistant, ushering you to focus on her, Charlie, and the hotel. Not Angel or Alastor.

To her, this is how you two bond.

She doesn't mind sharing with Charlie... but she tries not to allow you any more time with the others.

Angel is not only protective and clingy, but possessive.

He loves it when you just come to see him because you're concerned.

It gives him an ego.

He likes the attention so much that he'll lie to make you stay longer.

He's never felt more comfortable... and he uses this time to mess with Vaggie.

He's a distraction and he enjoys it.

Vaggie thinks Angel is hogging all of your attention... You have other things to attend to.

Meanwhile Angel accuses Vaggie of boring you and not giving you a choice on what to do.

You have your work cut out for you at the hotel, especially with these two so close to you...

All I have to say is this... Good Luck.

#yandere hazbin hotel #yandere hazbin hotel x reader #yandere vaggie #yandere angel dust #platonic yandere

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fhrlclln · 2 years ago

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con la brisa | k’uk’ulkan/namor

SUMMARY -> out of your own curiosity discovering the unique entrance of the underwater cave had you finding more than you expected while vacationing. the god is intrigued to say.

k’uk’ulkan/namor x fem! reader

masterlist (to be added)

GENRE -> nsfw/smut

WARNINGS -> bpwf spoilers, meet-cute scenario, a lil slowburn, namor is a lil’ bit cold at first & smut as usual (p in v, unprotected sex, oral sex; both!receiving & fingering)

WC -> 7,876

a/n: after watching wakanda forever had me bawling like so much. and so, okay, i know this isn’t my usual writing but i fell in love with the song con la brisa and namor cuz aquapapi. and i thought i’d write a long fic just for him. lIKE THE VISUALS OF THE SCENE IN TALOKAN AND THE SONG!?!?!?!? absolutely amazing and captivating and there’s namor. 😫 but anyways… enjoy my namor smut ig. and happy holidays everyone <3

TRANSLATIONS: YUCATEC MAYA -> máak lu'um - surface dweller/land person, ki'ichpanech - pretty girl, le paalo’ - child , je’el - yes, dejaremos ti' le destino decida - we will let fate decide, in na'atik - i understand, ba'ax úuch - what happened?, jach asab u jump'éel siibal - it is more than a gift, ka ma' in k'áat ka u detenga - and i don’t want it stop, in ts'íiboltikech - i want you, ma'alob - good, ko'ox - let us go, in yakunaj - my love, jats'uts - beautiful, t'aan - speak, t��an jach mojado, wáaj tuláakal ti' teen? - it is so wet, all for me? mierda - shit, perfecto - perfect, jach jats'uts yáanal tin - so beautiful under me

likes, reblogs & comments are greatly appreciated !! <3

enjoy !!

it’s quiet.

only the sound of the waves and the sound of the cool breeze hitting your ears envelops your senses. your body is floating above the water, sun hitting your face, eyes closed and relaxed as you let yourself float amongst depths of the sea. the water is cool against your skin, the scent of salt hits your nostrils mixing in with the freshness of the air. heaven is all you can describe at such serene calmness the water offers you this day.

as beautiful the secluded beaches are here in yucatan. you knew better to be not trespassing here. and as stupid it was to swim near night falling, the rays of the sun had turned orange among the horizon of the beautiful ocean. you knew it was time to get back to your hotel you currently resided. but here you are, water still glistening your salty skin, shorts concealing your bottom and your top the bikini you wore still damp as ever. the sun was setting, the trees swayed as you headed back to the direction of where you came from. wary of a chill on your spine erupt as if you felt like you were not alone in the secluded beach.

but as always, fate seemed to spin you to get lost in the woods.

shit. you think to yourself, the unfamiliar path dawning over to you as you sighed to yourself, trees all over your view. you knew the area well enough for the past few days and now was the time you would get lost? unbelievable. you bit your lip, trusting your gut to go further, night already taking over the once pristine blue sky. better to walk and let faith guide you to a road than to stay amongst the wild animals and insects inside the forest. you could say you’ve done one of the stupidest tourist shit you vowed not to do.

the cicadas faintly started to get louder as the darkness took over the forest. you grabbed your phone, turning on the flashlight as the leaves scrunched underneath your feet. the bushes seemed to grow larger as you gently passed by them with your arm shoving them away. expecting the familiar highway to come in view.

but you stopped, the path had ended as you were face to face with a cave of some sort. your eyes sparkled in the dark, suddenly intrigued with this new location you found. a hidden gem in these parts. you cautiously stepped closer to it, feeling as if you’ve entered someone’s territory. you lick your lips, shutting the flashlight of your phone as moonlight filled the area perfectly.

“water?” you mumbled to yourself, bending down to see the small cave was filled with water. “of course it is, dumbass.” you rolled your eyes to yourself, letting your hand touch the cool water.

it rippled beneath your fingertips as you glided your hand to feel the temperature, the scent of sea salt again fill your senses, your curiosity getting the best of you. you noticed how the deep the pool of water was, noting it might be an entrance to a underwater cave of some sort, you guessed. but you needed to go back, remembering the hotel waiting for you.

you looked around once more, guessing that this has been around here for a long time. you smiled, proud to say you would dive in here if you got the chance and the gear to do it. you stood up, brushing yourself from the dirt that sticked to your knees. you turned back and headed to the bushes again, to find another path. for a moment, you adjusted the bag you were carrying, your phone in your hand suddenly slipped from your grasp, hitting the ground with a thud. you cursed yourself for your clumsiness, bending down to grab it. the water in the cave suddenly splashing catching your attention warily.

you froze, slowly standing up, clutching your phone tight as you watch a figure came from the dark depths of the cave. the water splashed around as your heart thump loudly. seeing as a manly figure came in your sight despite the darkness. warnings in your mind erupted, remembering what you had heard of recently.

the man from the sea. a ancient god.

you distinctly remembered the words of the locals and the village elders about a man walking along the shores, feet with wings they had said. their ‘god’ walking amongst them. you don’t know much, but you feared this legend and the god as so did the people here. anything was possible nowadays. but you remained silent, studying his figure as he emerged into the moonlight. stepping in to your view, golden jewelry adorned his neck, he wore only green shorts and other accessories from his wrist to his legs. his feet, however, caught your interest seeing wings adorn them. and ears flourished with a jade like square earrings. he brushes his wet hair back, chest rising as he breathes in the air, his dark eyes finally gazed to yours.

oh, fuck.

you clutched your bag tight against your body, a shiver ran down your spine as his gaze pierced through you. you’ve trespassed. your mind shouts, your heart thumping louder.

“i’m sorry for i-intruding.” you speak up, careful for your tone to be calm and respectful. gears in your mind clicking, his face yet did not react whatsoever other than he steps forward, making you step back cautiously. he seems to notice it, sensing your own fear as he minds himself, creating a presence you knew not to anger. as stoic his expression was, his eyes seem to tell otherwise.

dangerous.

“you’re not from here.” he speaks, breaking your daze when you stare at his face. cold yet curious his tone was. knowingly now you think he’s attractive the more you study him. thoughts then circling how he just came from an underwater cave and ankles with wings on them.

“i’m not…” you nodded, gulping. “i got lost and stumbled here. n-no other intention.” you added, sensing him that he expected another answer.

“no?” he questions, stepping forward again, closer to you, making you freeze on the spot. you breathed out shakily, gazing his eyes that hold a predatory look. he towered over you, intimidating you further.

“no…” you softly said, the atmosphere almost changing, not once did you leave his gaze. a fire in the man’s gaze fueling him elsewhere.

the god stared down at this surface dweller, he hummed, trusting your answer, yet still skeptical. you were not like the other surface dwellers that he encountered coming into the entrance of the cave. you looked innocent enough, a foreigner of the area, a tourist you are. he shifts his gaze to your eyes and to your lips that softly spoke those words of reassurance. he notices your hands tremble, the cold of the night he presumed was getting to you or the fear of him. he’ll let you go, he thinks, merciful enough. the disturbance of the water merely caught his attention, he swam to it, ensuring that his nation would not be discovered.

“who are you?” you asked, astonished now for a man who’s ears you noticed are pointed. the fear slowly washing away. namor was intrigued to say, a curious thing you are.

“i have many names.” he spoke quietly, accent sharpening his words, a wonderful one you deemed as you listened to him. “my people call me k’uk’ulkan.” he gauges your face, seeing it full of wonder.

“but my enemies call me namor.” he finishes darkly, a threat. a warning set in stone. many would have run from him by now but you intrigued him further.

“namor.” you tested the name on your lips. the god felt himself shift in his place, seeing as you turn from his gaze, something stirring inside him after you uttered his name so softly.

“and you are?” he now asks, formalities thrown as you met his gaze again.

“y/n.” you uttered your name as the chill of the night shivered you so. he also tests your name in his tongue, accent enveloping each syllable smoothly with a crisp ending.

“roaming around the outskirts of the village is dangerous, máak lu'um. what has brought you here?” he speaks further, a word so unfamiliar to you. not spanish or what, which fuels your desire to learn him now.

“just took a swim by the beach.” you answered with a shrug. “it’s beautiful out the atlantic ocean.” you added as he hums, nodding.

“you’re not from here as well, are you?” you suddenly ask. he doesn’t look like the locals in the area. his outfit is as different from modern clothing, which in his case is very minimal. he cocks his head to the side as you looked back to the underwater cave. he is taken aback at your forwardness but contemplates whether he should tell you but he only offers a simple answer to your curious mind.

“yes.”

“interesting.” you quipped, examining his peculiar jewelry then to his chest, which catches you off guard how well built he is. tan pecks glistening with water, a fluttery feeling in your stomach making you feel a little flustered for checking him out shamelessly.

“you live there, i presume?” you ask, pointing to the cave. he seems to still, eyebrows tensing as you notice how defensive he is. “not that you need to answer…” you offered weakly, a little scared now.

“mhm.” he grunts, stepping pass you, not answering the question, leaving off a cold aura. he needed you away from here as soon as possible, remembering his intentions from the first place when you disturbed the waters of the entrance.

“come, it is getting late. let me escort you out, ki'ichpanech.“ pretty girl. he offers his arm out, muscle bulging out. you seem to be too trusting as you complied with the strange man with wings on his feet. not knowing how dangerous he can be, a man that has lived for more than a century, a god to his people and a king of a nation sealed from the whole world beneath the depths of the sea.

he is the feathered-serpent god.

“thank you.” you took his arm, walking beside him, arm resting with his making your heart thump. he was warm for a man who just swam in a deep underwater cavern. he smelled like the ocean itself, which was not that unpleasant, you stare at him for a time as you two walked along the woods. leaves scrunching both of your feet.

namor, on his behalf, didn’t expect he’d be talking with a surface dweller for this long nor offering to escort you out the forest. he despised all things that came from the surface world, a land that he swore to himself to hate to the bones. yet now, you who peaked his interest made his usual thinking sputter.

innocent, curious, soft, kind…all things he doesn’t expect. the feel of your skin to his fueled his desire further as he tried to suppress it. noting the way his cock twitch when your fingers brushed against his hot skin.

“are you not cold? it’s so cold out here.” you shivered, unintentionally pressing against him for warmth.

“it is…tolerable, ki'ichpanech.” he amusingly says, watching as your other arm hugged your waist for warmth. your bikini covered breasts pushing up by your arm making him swallow a lump as he looks ahead. intriguing.

“what does that mean?” you ask, glaring at him with a pout.

“ki'ichpanech?” the ancient language rolls on his tongue flawlessly.

“yes.” you looked back to him seeing as the familiar sounds of faint chatter filled your ears. the village must be close.

“a compliment, le paalo’.” he simply explains. “one for you to find out for yourself.” he smirks, making you sigh beside him.

only silence fills the void between you two, an unspoken comfort that had the man beside you wonders how calm you are. being escorted by a man who you just met. he wonders how your pretty little mind works

“you said you have many names.” you started. “what do you prefer to be called?”

“it is up to you what you wish to call me.”

“k’uk’ulkan then?” you uttered, wishing you didn’t butcher the pronunciation. “you said your people call you by that.”

“je’el.” he agrees, which you take it as a yes. a silence transpired again, but it doesn’t take long before your own curiosity gets the best of you. asking him questions now out of the blue, all subjects leading how he swam inside of a underwater cave without any gear and the most asked about his ankles with wings.

namor seemed to tolerate your mind, offering vague answers and none about questions where he resided or came from. he offers you to teach the mayan words he answers along the way, resulting you to ask him if he always knew how to speak english fluently. in return, he asks you as well. you gladly tell him about vacationing alone in mexico, saying that you needed some time away from the work you had back home. and that you just wanted a moment of peace to yourself here by the beaches. exploring, learning about the locals and their culture respectfully.

but in all fashion, it had to end.

which broke your heart slightly when the sound of the locals grew louder. lights from their village enveloping your view as you two arrive in a secluded area wherein the familiar dirt road is.

“you are a strange woman with curious questions.” he begins as you step out of the bushes, facing him with a slight frown.

“says the man who has wings on his feet.” you quip back playfully. he smirks at that, eyes alert as he looks back to see the locals. your heart thumps, wishing for him to come with you. but in his eyes you knew it wasn’t possible even if he didn’t necessarily say it out loud. you just knew.

“speak of this to no one, ki’ichpanech.” he utters, you nodded at this. the situation weird enough for you to obey.

“will i see you again?” you ask gently, hope in your tone. namor feels something stir inside him as he licks his lips, stepping forward as he brings your hand up to his lips, kissing it softly. soft delicate skin. he thinks, a fire set alight to the both of you as his piercing gaze never faltered as your chest rose at the sudden electric feeling.

the hand kiss was a gesture of his growing affection towards you which he fears may not stop. you should be cowering away from him, a man who’s hands are stained with blood for hundreds of years. he shouldn’t even be talking with a surface dweller at all and you shouldn’t see him again, but…

“dejaremos ti' le destino decida.” he only offers those unfamiliar words to you with sincerity. you drew your hand back, not asking anything further as he steps back into the forest, eyes still looking into yours. a series of laughter interrupts the two of you as you look away from for a moment seeing the villagers laughing amongst themselves. you look back to the bushes, only to find that he’s gone.

huh.

you only stood quiet, the scent of sea salt lingering, his warmth you realized you missed. the night grew colder as you think to yourself with a cheeky thought in mind.

you’ll meet him again.

•••

and you did.

countless of times now after a couple of days had passed. the next morning of that faithful night lead you to go back to the same spot you met him, toying with the water, disturbing it when he was already behind you at that time. in which namor wouldn’t say he has been keeping an eye on you whenever you visited the beach again. you were thrilled, greeting him with your smile. he seemed a bit reluctant meeting you again, telling you that you should not be talking with him. you countered back, asking why then he appears before you when he could’ve ignored her. he smiles at that, offering you a chuckle for the first time. his smile catching you off-guard.

“you intrigue me so, ki'ichpanech.” he would say as you two walk along the shores, talking, asking more about him. he tells stories you never had heard of, legends and so.

“you like it.” you’d tease with a grin. he doesn’t affirm but he does agree in the inside.

your growing friendship with the god only grew larger when the days passed and each day he reminded you to never speak about this strange relation you had with him. you only had weeks left before going back home. a month vacation in yucatán was slowly nearing it’s end and you feared you may not get to see your mysterious friend ever again. you had to cherish the weeks left in counting.

and the subtle attraction you were feeling was growing larger.

he showed you the vast hidden wonders the beach hid as he took you for a swim. the corals, the tide pools, even in the deepest parts of the sea. it was so fascinating to you to see him swim so freely, like it was just a normal thing for him. you had already known that he is not human from the first time you met him. further, he only describes himself as a mutant, the story of his mother and how the first of his people came to be. the talokanil.

“my mother mourned to return to the land wherein she once lived.” he speaks, the waves crashing, you two sitting beside each other on the soft white sands of the shore. watching the sunset over the horizon, a beautiful sight to always see. intimate it felt.

“she was human you had said?”

“je’el. she made me a promise to bury her in the soil of her homeland.” you watch carefully how his eyes catch a glimpse of longing. “but nothing could prepare me for what i found.”

a chill ran down your spine seeing his expression drop into the most chilling hatred you could ever seen from a man. the slavery, those spanish men, the corruption of colonialism that had fallen amongst the surface world. wars broke out, diseases everywhere, more and more tragedies you guessed he would have witnessed for living for 500 years. you were somewhat touch to know how he’s opened up to this, to you.

“there’s nothing that would change how us humans would still be.” you began, sympathizing with him and knowing his hatred for the surface world. “humans are greedy. power is their desire, their lust. the world up here is fucked up.” you chuckled airily, staring off to the ocean.

“you seem to harbor the same resentment to your own world, ki'ichpanech.” he says as you shrugged at it.

“the world is too corrupted nowadays.” you rolled your eyes. “work is work, you work then you die. money is in my head always back home. so yeah, i do hate it up here.”

“you desire to be elsewhere? is it why you are here with me?” he grins as you scoffed at him even though it was true as the blush evident on your face was enough evidence. he has been shamelessly kinda flirting with you over the past days—

…you like him, a lot. it was no surprise you had catch feelings for the man. you learned he is kind and somewhat warm underneath the defensive and cold exterior he had put up when you two first met. he longed for his nation to be free from the terrors of waiting for anyone who’d try to discover them.

“you were a nice surprise to me.” you smiled gently. “but yes, it’s a nice escape here out from the city. even though i hate it here, it quite beautiful to live in.”

“in na'atik.” he hums, intrigued to say how one surface dweller could speak so ill about their own home. his resentment towards the surface world was still growing in him. humans are greedy like you had said, but you, out of all the surface dwellers that had tried to come near him or his nation, you merely just stood before him that night. astonished at him, wonders in your colored irises that held a compassionate understanding for him. he feels his chest swell and throat constrict. that same mushy and fluttery feeling that arose to heat his cheeks and the tip of his ears. overwhelming yet so addicting to feel.

what were you doing with him?

namor only watches you as you stare off to the ocean. he wants to picture this moment in his mind, a mural he now wants to paint for you. a story for you, your curious questions about him and your smile that was like the most beautiful pearls of talokan. he doesn’t want to admit it, nor shall he want to think about it now. dangerous it can be, he only hopes that this would last quicker for the sake of both of your hearts. and for his purposely knowing all would might end in tragedy if he is to act on this.

but he is wrong.

•••

another set of days had passed and tomorrow, that you dreaded, you’ll be going back home. it seemed like time had passed by faster than you expected. you stand alone again by the beach, this time a mesh white scarf wrapped around your arms as you take in the sea breeze again, savoring the moment. namor had wanted to see you again as usual, you knew he was either walking along the shore or might emerge from the sea, waiting for you.

but now he was walking towards you, expecting your bright greeting yet he only found you staring at the horizon again.

“ki'ichpanech?” he starts, softly calling for you. the waves crashes again as your sundress swayed with wind. you met his gaze, snapping out of your thoughts as you composed yourself before the god.

“k’uk’ulkan.” you face him, a little surprised but you smiled at him still. namor watches your serene smile do not go up your eyes. he knows already, you could tell. he always could tell how you were feeling.

“ba'ax úuch?” he asks, enough for you to understand as he stands in-front of you, softening his gaze as you glanced back to the sea, sighing deeply.

“i’m leaving tomorrow.” you finally said, seeing as his expression still as those words he dreaded as well came from your mouth. it’s too soon, he had plans to—

“tomorrow?”

“in the morning.” you confirmed, your heart breaking seeing his stoic expression falter. “to be honest, i don’t want to go.”

“then don’t.” he says, every patience in his body wearing just for him to spew out anything for you to not leave. all his walls he build up for the first time for you already was gone, he accepted it that he wanted you by his side even if you don’t know fully of his true feelings. he had to at least say something before this could all end.

“i can’t.” you shakily said, an overwhelming feeling overcoming you. you didn’t want to leave this place, you didn’t want to leave him yet. “besides, whether i like it or not, i’ll be forced back home.”

you gripped the chiffon scarf, knuckles baring white as namor didn’t know what else to say. every signal in his mind told him many ways he could make you stay but he knows either way you’d be gone. and that this whole relationship you have with him is going to end even if it just had started.

“come with me.” he finally lets it out as he grabs your hand to his. “i wanted to show you something.”

“you have a gift for me?” you teased as his fingers interlocked with yours. he merely chuckles making your heart thump, alongside the feel of his calloused warm hand fits perfectly to yours. you know there’s this silent crave, a want between you two. you never acted this strange tension with him. you always thought he only tolerates you at how adamant you are seeing him, but now… you’re not sure.

“jach asab u jump'éel siibal.” he says, guiding you back to the forest, the familiar path to the underwater cave. “i want you to see a glimpse of my home.”

“k’uk’ulkan.” you scolded, brows knitting as you followed him, letting him guide you. “you had said that your nation is something to be kept away from the surface world. i am apart of that.”

“it is not necessarily talokan yet, ki'ichpanech.” he counters as you two step to see the familiar structure. he ushers you to stand by him in the pool of water but you stop,.

“i don’t want to risk this.” you argued, seeing as he contemplated at that. he was holding back something he’s been harboring, you sighed as you step back, hand letting go of his as he stands in the water. a feeling of deja vu erupted inside you. he looked absolutely the same the night you met him. just that his defensive posture were now soft and relaxed as he gently smiles at you.

“one last night, ki’ichpanech.” namor held his hand out again. “and we will forget all of this in the morning and continue on with our separate lives.”

“but that’s not all, is it?”

namor tenses, he doesn’t really know if a tinge of fear had finally come to him. you can see pass through him, every knit of his brow or clench on his jaw. and he can see you hesitate— you want this, he can tell. every grip of your mesh scarf, the furrow of your brows, the sadness and eagerness in your eyes. you awaited for an answer as he nods.

“come with me.” he steps closer, water splashing, moonlight dawning over you two. “you had said you hated to go back to your home then stay. stay with me.”

he gently brought your hand to his chest as he stared into your eyes. like a trance he is how serene you are underneath the moonlight. your face softening with realization that he’s asking you to live with him. to stay by him forever. you could feel the thump of his heart underneath his skin, he intimately pressed his forehead against yours, never leaving your sight. you didn’t know what to say but just let him continue.

“this does not happen so often. and i fear it will never stop. ka ma' in k'áat ka u detenga.” he whispers, lips brushing against yours, he is holding himself back not to rapture you here and now. sparks flew when you felt it, his other hand situated on your hip. a raw sensation you had now felt for him.

“what about my own life here?”

“i am not so cruel to not give you a choice, ki’ichpanech. but yes, i cannot risk you going back home for my nation if you were to choose to come with me.” you nodded at his words, understanding him. and now you gambled with the possibilities as namor waited patiently for your answer. your mind gambled with the possibilities, you’d leave everything behind.

“and if i chose to leave now?”

“then we will part ways and forget all of this.” he offers a small smile, concealing the pang in his chest.

“why me?” you quietly asked, the words he offered sinking in your mind.

“is it not obvious?” his nose brushed against the tip of yours, heat in his tone. “in ts'íiboltikech.”

a shuddery breath exhales through your lips. his warmth and his closeness should have been the answers but you could not imagine for a god— someone who’s deemed as a god to be wanting you. namor’s patience was wearing thin, if you chose to leave, he’ll gladly accept that, but he somehow hopes for the other one. your eyes shined, his heart thumped as your lips opened—

“in ts'íiboltikech.” you repeated his words as his irises darken, a grin forming as he gladly pulled you closer to him, the cool water splashing around the two of you. the cicadas quieting down, two hearts beating as one.

“ma'alob.” he whispers darkly, sending a shiver down your spine. those words of confirmation had him surging to capture your lips to his. he waited long enough, every night, every morning he thought of you. you were a plague in his mind, corrupting him to think of the most sinful things and the ones he yearned in his own thoughts.

and your lips were sweet, sweeter than the fruits he ever tasted in his life, and he wonders in the back of his mind if your cunt would taste sweeter. making his cock twitch at the thought.

you let out a tiny gasp, wrapping your arms around his neck, the chiffon scarf dropping to the ground. the built up tension between the two of you finally at it’s peak, sizzling down as he moved his lips slowly on yours. slow and passionate, wanting to savor it. your cheeks bloomed with heat when you felt the outline of his prick press against your stomach, hard and hot. catching you by surprised at how particularly needy he felt. but you were as well, absently rubbing your thighs against each other.

he pulls away, breathless making let out a tiny whine. “ko'ox.” he smirks, guiding you deeper in the water, your sundress getting wet but you didn’t care about that. only focused on the man who gently puts something on your face. you look at him questionably, he was holding up a mask of something.

“the dive is deep.” he explains, as he locks the mask in, ushering you gently with adoration in his eyes as you inhaled deeply, following his command.

“breathe, in yakunaj.”

•••

“amazing.” you uttered, staring up to the ceiling of the cave. glowworms were hanging by the stalactites. it emitted this soft blue hue while the sound of the waters of the cave joined in the beautiful scenery. your heart bloomed, you could almost forget about your own home by now. but a tinge of hesitance caused you to overthink this. was it right to leave everything behind? you questioned yourself, standing by the edge, close to the water.

how quick you are to throw everything away.

you bit your bottom lip, nervous you are, wondering if anyone back at the place you called home would question where you are in the following days— months even. you sighed to yourself, pushing it all away in the very back of your mind. you’d worry about that in a more appropriate time. but now here you are, feeling flushed remembering his lips, all thoughts away but just him.

“jats'uts.” his voice echoed, you jumped a bit in surprise as you turned to face him. the beads on your dress rattled, your cheeks glowed as namor went beside you. his eyes draped along your body, the traditional dress he provided for you after your sundress had been absolutely damped was an exquisite sight before him.

“beautiful.” he translated, dark eyes meeting yours. he steps closer, seeing your small shy smile. “the dress suits you so.” he grins.

“thank you for this.” you gestured to the beautiful dress, letting yourself be drawn in his beady orbs as you neared him, letting his hand slip to yours again.

“has this place always been your sanctuary?” you quietly asked as you two walked towards the hut he showed you a while ago that was filled with his murals. you were amazed to see how he had depicted his and his people lives on the wall by the stroke of his brush. the story of how the first talokanil came to be and so fort.

“yes. a place where i can be in solitude.” he nods and leads you inside, never leaving your side.

“and from here, talokan is just down below?” you looked around the room, stopping to admire the big mural on the wall.

“deep below, ki'ichpanech.” he responds, standing beside you, holding something in his hand. your eyes caught the glimpse of a beautiful ornament.

“this is beautiful.” you blurt out, looking to him for approval to touch it as he merely smiled.

“it was my mother’s.” he explains as you touched the beads gently, admiring how pretty it is.

“you said it was made for her before she turned talokanil?” namor nodded, liking the way you remembered his stories.

“as my first gift, i want you to have this.” he grasps your wrists making your heart burst. “a token for my affection.”

“you’ve given me enough. i feel like i should give you something in return.” you pouted as he ties the bracelet on your wrist, ignoring your furrowed look as he kisses you softly before you could protest more. you hummed between his lips, shutting up quickly as you eagerly reciprocated.

“it is not enough.” he says, squeezing the side of your waist. “you’ve already given something in return, in yakunaj. your presence here in my home is enough.”

“but—“

his lips descended down to kiss your jaw, peppering down to your neck. inhaling your scent as he nips at your neck. pressing you harder against him, bulge brushing again on your stomach as you craned your neck to feel him sigh blissfully before he sucked and nipped, intent to make you feel mushy in his arms.

“k’uk’ulkan.” you whined as he chuckles.

“your body reacts so eagerly.” he whispers. “have you been waiting for me to touch you like this, ki’ichpanech?” you couldn’t respond but nod lightly, the warmth of his overwhelming. your lips are sealed from embarrassment how right he is. the scruff of his beard tickles you so as he bites a bit harder making you grip his shawl. the only item of clothing you noticed he wore after countless times you had seen him in those green shorts.

“t'aan.” he commands, hands descending down to grasp your ass harshly. you squealed as he hoists you up, legs automatically wrapping around his waist. hands on his broad shoulders as he guides both of you to the bed in his hut. your back hitting the bed, him towering over you. you could see the feral look in his eyes as you can’t help but obey him.

“je’el.” you whimpered as he slants his mouth to yours again, eating you up. he can’t help but smile at how his language rolls off your lips, his mayan lessons paying off to you. your soft hands cupped his cheek, fueling the desire. his hand descends down to caress your thigh, rubbing gently before your dress pools to your stomach, lower half exposed to the cold air. namor could feel the heat he yearned as his fingertips gently brushed against your exposed cunt. you bare underneath the dress he provided, his aching cock wishing to come out.

“táan jach mojado, wáaj tuláakal ti' teen?” namor pressed his fingertip gently on your aching nub. you gasped, back arching, eyes slightly widening how the two of you are now doing this—

“please.” you begged as he only applied pressure, no rubbing or whatsoever, he seemed so smug as he had you this desperate. he shifts from his place, shrugging off his royal shawl, dropping it to the floor as he removes anything that might get into his way as he opens your legs, looking up for your consent as your eyes meet his.

“please.” you affirm again as he gingerly kisses the top of your knee.

he doesn’t know what fucking ambrosia fills his scent but the sight of your bare glistening cunt makes his whole body react accordingly. he descends down, kissing your knee before resting comfortably to kiss your inner thigh, the scent of your arousal tingling him.

“perfect.” he groans, can’t help but kiss your aching clit. licking his lips as your hands laced through his dark locks as he laps away like a starved man. you moan out, his tongue working wonders. you could not believe how eager he is to eat your cunt up like it’s his last meal. every flick, lick, kiss and suck, all over again and again making your thighs clamp hard around his head.

you fear you might suffocate him with your own cunt but you remembered the man literally breathes in water. namor could do this all day, he thinks, growling at how fucking tart your nectar is— how fucking dripping it is for him— only him.

namor melts between your thighs, in dazed and drunk. the sound of your muffled moans as the plush heat of your thighs at either sides of his face had him groaning. he sucks harsher, feeling your hips stutter as he puts his arm on top of your stomach to hold you in place. never stopping his feast, the more he licked and lapped, the more you begged with his name. his other hand could not help but slide down to his, gripping his clothed bulge, a shiver ran down his spine at the pressure that he could not take anymore.

“k’uk’ulkan…” you repeated, feeling your stomach coil in the pressure of his sinful mouth and tongue. he hums, pulling back, sitting up as his lips glistened with your arousal, fueling your desire as you whined. he palms himself, still staring down at you as you stared at the prize just under his hand. you carefully sat up, all thoughts seemingly trashed in your fucked-out mind. namor’s chest rose as he breathes in how angelic you are crawling towards him, your face dazed out and mouth glistening with your own saliva, hungry.

“what do you want, my love?” he asks as he grins making you momentarily look up to meet his eyes. you didn’t say anything as you pressed your lips to his bare stomach, making him shudder as his abs flexed the moment your soft lips touched his heated skin, the grip on his clothed cock tightened as you trailed down to meet his happy trail.

vixen. he surpasses the urge to call you that out loud, not when your hand is now shoving his hand away from his cock. he lets you do whatever you want with him, anticipation in his blood as your fingers curled in the hem of his shorts. ready for you to pull it down but you stopped for a moment as you stared up to him again, a plead in your gaze.

“can i?” you ask quietly.

something inside him breaks hearing your soft voice ask for his permission. he lets out a breath, hand coming up to caress your cheek as you nuzzled against his palm, waiting for his answer.

“je’el.” he nods, his words coming out in a slight tremble. he could feel himself succumb to the thought of you doing anything with him— everything in fact. you grin suddenly, breaking the eye contact as you pulled his shorts down completely, him helping you get it off as you tossed it to the ground.

namor groaned as his cock bounced up slightly, the cool air making him bite his lower lip as you gawked at it. you were speechless, taken aback, not expecting that it would be— that girthy in size. you gulped, remembering the countless times you would glance at his bulge whenever you two were either swimming in the sea or walking along the shore, it was something you couldn’t help but feel dirty for imagining what he truly looks like down their.

but now you’ve seen everything.

“you can take it, no?” he suddenly quips making you grumble in determination as you lulled yourself back from staring at his shaft. you wrapped your hand around his base making the said man shut up as he sighs out.

“i can.” you mumbled, totally not intimidated by his fucking length and girth overall. you pumped him slowly, right amount of pressure seeing the tip leak out a bit. wondering how you are making a said ‘god’ now weak on his knees, hearing little huffs come from his mouth but still looking so composed. you admired how reserved he looks as you dart your tongue out to lick the fat head.

“mierda—“ he grumbles, a hand gripping the back of your head as the other fumbled with your breast and whatever skin he can reach as he stays still watching you finally engulf him slowly. your mouth stretched accommodating his size as you hummed, liking the way he taste and maybe a tiny bit saltier— you were not complaining though.

“look at you.” he speaks with adoration, admiring the way you started to suck him off, letting him in deeper inside of your hot cavern inch by inch you can take. the way you are on your knees for him, glancing at him from time to time as you meet his hungry eyes. he resists the urge to fuck your mouth, savoring how determined you are to make him feel the same pleasure as he did on you. you were serious to making him feel good, bobbing your head up and down as your other hand gripped his base, pumping him where your mouth can’t reach. your eyes watered as the tip hit the back of your throat, making you gag a bit as you pulled him out, panting.

the string of saliva appeared as you licked your lips, kissing the tip again as you gently put him in your mouth again. namor hissed feeling the coil in his stomach almost snap. you continued on with your pace, liking the way you could hear his labored breaths and little groans, making you smile a bit as the salty taste of him had you addicted.

this is torture. namor thinks as he lets you suck him off for a bit before abruptly pulling himself out of your mouth, making you whine. he chuckles seeing your expression before he captured your lips again, tasting himself as he pushed you to lay back on the bed. you reciprocated with eagerness as you opened your legs for him to slant himself there, cock grazing your cunt making you let out a low moan in his mouth. namor swallows those pretty sounds of yours before pulling away as he pressed his forehead against yours. a knowing look in his eyes as you waited for him to speak first.

“can i?” he finally asks, grinding himself on your cunt. you whimpered, looking down to see how desperate he is before looking back to his eyes.

“please.” you muttered, cupping his cheeks as shuffles in his place. his hand reaching down to grasp himself, positioning his head to rub against your entrance as you cursed at the wet feeling.

“k’uk’ulkan…” you mewled, anticipating he’d ram himself inside of you this instant but he’s patient as ever as he rubs the fat bulb of his head on your clit, gathering enough slick before finally pushing in slowly. making your back arch at the intrusion as your hands fly down to grasp his broad shoulders.

“is it too much?” he suddenly asks, concerned, watching you carefully. you smiled at his concerns as you kissed the tip of his nose.

“it’s perfect.” you whispered, clenching around him to signal him to get on with it. namor growls as he does what you want, bottoming out in you as deep as he can go. he stills for the moment, you two immersed at the feeling of each other. a sort of fuzzy feeling of something special how connected you two are. gentle caresses and kisses of encouragement exchanged between the two of you as he finally gives an experimental thrust.

“perfecto.” he sighs, kissing you again as you grinned. namor grinds into you slowly at first, feeling the way your walls clench around him as he hits a spot. he leaves kisses on your face, marks on your neck, whispers of undying loving words how you make him feel so good. you merely moan out his name as he starts to pick up a good pace that has you desperate on him.

“jach jats'uts yáanal tin.” he pants, hand caressing you everywhere as he stares at your blissed out face. each hard snap of his hips making your body bounce at the intensity. the lewd wet slapping adding in as heat and sweat enveloped you two. you whimpered at how his cock was hitting that spot making your hips wiggle and back arch. it felt so sticky yet so good at how he’s so passionate about this.

absolutely perfect. your mind screams as you wrap your arms around his torso, grasping his back as he fucks you with vigor. your whines like a sirens song to his ears, he rests his lips on your forehead as he pounds into you. feeling himself on the verge as you clenched around him tightly as ever, a signal to him that you were also cumming. namor kisses every inch of your face before swallowing up your moans you were about to cum. your heart pounded in synch with his as he desperately fucked into you. you gasped loudly, gripping his skin, nails digging, body convulsing with pleasure as his thrusts became sloppier, pounding in through your orgasm.

“ki’ichpanech…” namor practically breaths out your name next, eyes shutting for a moment as he feels him release. one, two, three powerful thrusts sends him home as he almost rips the beddings apart above your head. blood rushes to your ears as the intensity stops. he slumps a bit, laying his weight on your body but not too much, fearing you’d be crushed. both your breaths only to be heard as it fills the silence of the room.

everything slows down the moment when his eyes flutter open to meet yours. the exact same eyes he had first met in the moonlight. your heart soars to see him soften as you kissed him gently, soft and pillowy it felt, something slow after that. your hand instinctively brushes the stray hair from his forehead, sweat beading there. he plants more kisses again on your face as you giggled, only gasping as he removes himself abruptly. there are so many things you wanted to say to him in those moment but all are left unsaid when he laces your hands together. a glint in his eyes, all you adore.

“stay with me, ki’ichpanech.” he says, as if you would leave him. you can’t help but nod quickly as ever like you did when he asked you to go with him here. you knew what you were in for and you were sure for it, knowing your heart won’t stop beating so loudly when he smiles now as you mutter a verbal confirmation out, concealing it. the glimpse of his mother’s bracelet on your wrist a wonderful glimpse of a future.

“i will.”

I FINISHED IT FINALLY AND HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYONE !! THANK U FOR THE PATIENCE. im back to writing finally. <3

#namor x reader #namor #k’uk’ulkan #k’uk’ulkan x reader #namor x female reader #namor smut #tenoch huerta #bpwf spoilers #namor imagine #black panther: wakanda forever #fnhrlcllnwrites

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daisynik7 · 1 year ago

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congrats on hitting 2k! if song repeats are allowed i’d like to request Promiscuous with stripper!nanami inspired by that one fan art smutty ofc tysm ❤️

Promiscuous

Pairing: stripper!Nanami x f!reader

Rating: Explicit – MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Word Count: ~4.0k

cw: modern day setting, no curses au, Americanized customs in regard to bachelorette parties, explicit language, explicit sexual content, smut – PIV sex (reverse cowgirl), cunnilingus, cream pie, slight breeding kink

Summary: You’re the maid-of-honor for your best friend Sara, the bride-to-be. This weekend, you’re celebrating her bachelorette party and what better way to end the night than at the strip club? Little do you expect that the breadsticks from dinner would come in handy much more than you think.

Author’s Notes: Thank you for the request anon for the y2k karaoke party! In case anyone wants to see the fan art being referenced, here’s the link on twitter. I didn’t want to use it as the header in case the artist doesn’t allow it. Anyways, this was such a fun one for me to write and I hope it’s a fun one for you all to read! Likes, reblogs, and/or comments are ALWAYS appreciated! Thanks for reading! MDNI divider credit to @/cafekistune.

“Bruno! Another Aperol Spritz, please!” Sara slurs happily at the waiter.

He flashes her a thumbs up, disappearing into the other room towards the bar. Five of Sara’s bridesmaids, including you, the maid-of-honor, gather around the table, blitzed on either cocktails or Prosecco. You’re tipsy at best, purposefully holding back to take on the responsibility of making sure everything goes as planned tonight. As long as the bride has the time of her life and returns to the hotel in one piece, you’ll be happy.

Sara is the only one tonight wearing white, while the rest of you stun in little black dresses, sporting hot pink cowboy hats atop your heads and cowboy boots on your feet, celebrating the bride’s “last rodeo.” By the end of your meal, everyone in your party is giddy and ready for the next destination in your itinerary: the strip club, which is a few blocks away. You manage to pack the leftover breadsticks from dinner into your purse, anticipating that it will come in handy, especially when the drunken munchies start to hit. Together, the six of you parade the sidewalk, giggling and stumbling into the venue, beaming at the bouncer with goofy smiles as you display your IDs to him.

You’re sat at a table near the front of the stage, next to the runway. Next to you is Sara, who is swaying in her seat, resting her head on your shoulder, mumbling something about more alcohol. You pet her hair, knowing she needs water more than anything, so you ask one of the other less intoxicated girls to sit beside her, telling the rest of the group that you’ll grab drinks for everyone. With your bag, you go to the bar, taking the empty spot between another bachelorette party taking shots and a bespectacled blonde man in a tan suit, sipping on a glass of whiskey on the rocks.

The bartender, a beautiful brunette with soft brown eyes, nods at you before she helps the other patrons who were there first, so you wait patiently for her to return. The bridesmaid next to you, a feather boa around her neck, bumps into you by accident. She apologizes profusely, the potent smell of tequila wafting from her breath. You laugh, assuring her it’s alright and congratulating the bride. They offer you a shot, refusing, so instead they drape one of their fluffy scarves on your shoulders.

When they leave, the man to your other side chuckles, taking a swig of his liquor, smirking. “I’m surprised you didn’t take the free shot.”

You glance at him, taken aback by his handsome appearance. Slightly flustered, you focus your eyes on his uniquely spotted tie. “I’m taking care of another bride tonight, so I can’t get too wasted.”

He turns to face you completely now, and you can’t help scanning his physique, impressed by his stature, and of course, extremely good looks. “How responsible of you. Let me guess, you’re the maid-of-honor?”

This time, you meet his gaze, grinning with a shrug. “Guilty as charged.”

He reaches towards you, tipping the brim of your cowboy hat, getting a better view of your face. “And what’s the story behind this get-up?”

You laugh nervously, reluctant to explain. “It’s her last rodeo. You know, the last ride for the bride.” Heat rushes into your cheeks, already frazzled by his presence, now embarrassed about the clichés.

Amused, he hums. “Ah, I see. Clever.” He holds his hand out. “I’m Kento Nanami. Nice to meet you.”

You take it, introducing yourself. It’s obvious he’s here alone, and you wonder what someone like him is doing here at a male dance venue dressed like this, as if he came straight from the office. However, you’re not here to make assumptions about strangers, so you don’t question it.

The bartender finally approaches you, apologizing. “Sorry for the wait. It’s been really busy tonight.”

You wave it off, telling her it’s fine, ordering a few cocktails and a water. Before she starts on your order, she looks at Nanami. “Need anything else, Kento?” You’re curious about their relationship, which seems close given the first-name basis.

He twirls his drink, ice clinking in the glass. “If you have any food in there, that would be great.”

She pushes a container of maraschino cherries towards him. “You know we don’t. Here’s some healthy fruit to hold you over for the show.”

He snorts, “Thanks, Shoko.”

She makes the drinks in silence, leaving you alone with him once more. You set your purse on the counter, unzipping it to retrieve the pack of warm breadsticks from the Italian restaurant, sliding it to him. He looks at it, then at you, surprised.

“It’s your lucky day.”

Still in disbelief, he opens it slowly, inhaling the fragrant aroma of garlic and butter. He pulls one out, staring at it like he’s just discovered hidden treasure. “Am I dreaming right now?”

You beam at him. “This is totally real.”

He takes a bite, eyes fluttering. “This is heavenly. Are you sure I’m not dreaming?”

You giggle, watching him savor it. “I told you: it’s your lucky day.”

He takes another one, smiling. “It really is.” Wiping one side of his mouth with a napkin, he adds, “Not that it matters, but I’m curious. Why does a beautiful cowgirl like yourself have my favorite food in her purse?”

You try not to the let the subtle compliment faze you, though you’re not sure how good of a job you’re doing considering how hot your body is, especially your face. “I took it from the restaurant we had dinner at in case any of my friends need it for later.”

Halfway into the second breadstick, he comments, “You really are a good girl, aren’t you?”

Another comment that flusters you. Quickly, you pull yourself together. “I’m just trying to make sure everyone’s having a good time and won’t feel sick later.”

He finishes it off, licking the residual butter off his fingers. “Well, I won’t take all of it, then. You never know how the night will go, right?” He passes it to you, chugging the rest of his booze until there’s only ice left.

Shoko returns with your drinks, including a water for Sara. You hand her your card, expecting to pay, but Nanami interjects. “Shoko, put it on my tab.”

You gape at him. “You don’t have to – ”

“I want to. For the breadsticks,” he winks. He stands, grabbing two of your cocktails. “Can I help you bring these to your party?”

Stunned, and completely infatuated now, you nod without speaking, leading him to your table. Your friends ogle him when he serves them, probably smitten like you. You make one more trip for the remaining drinks, giving Sara the water, who reluctantly sips on it. “Thank you. I don’t know what I can do to make it up to you.”

“Just have a good time tonight, then we’ll call it even. I’ll see you later.” He waves goodbye to you and your friends, walking towards the rear of the club, for employees only.

Your curiosity peaks, though you don’t have time to ponder it because dance music begins blaring through the speakers, resulting in cheers from the audience. Sara hollers from her seat, drinking her water with a stack of bills in her hands, ready to toss at the dancers.

The emcee, a muscular older gentleman who calls himself “the Principal”, stands to the side of the stage, wearing an all-black suit and sports sunglasses. “Are you ladies ready for a special show tonight?”

Everyone applauds, excited for the performers to come out. “Let’s bring them out! Our first dancer is mysterious, sexy, and maybe just a little bit scary. A voice that can put any woman in a trance, and an even better body that will make anyone loyal to him, please give a big round of applause for…the Master!” A man with long, black hair draped on his back in a traditional Buddhist robe walks across the stage, smirking at the crowd with an alluring expression on his face. Many of the women scream for him, clearly already a favorite. He winks, resulting in louder shrieks.

“Next, class is in session! He’s got bright blue eyes that can peer into your soul and undress you in seconds. And when he’s not too busy doing that, he’s disciplining his very, very naughty students. Please welcome…the Professor!” This results in an overwhelming standing ovation, a couple of woman already tossing their bills towards him as an impressively tall and fit man with snow-white hair struts next to the Master, beaming towards the audience.

Two more dancers are introduced, leaving one left. “Last, and certainly not least. He’s wise, he’s good with money. Most of all, he hates work. But if it’s with a pretty coworker like you, he’ll work overtime to give you that good lovin’. Please give it up for…the Salary Man!”

To your shock, Nanami walks across, in the same exact outfit you saw him in earlier. When he takes his place at the end of the line, he glances at you, giving you a small wave. Sara whips around, shaking your shoulders. “He just waved at you!”

The entire show, you’re focused on Nanami, who graces the stage with smooth and fluid movements, hips thrusting into the air, booty popping in those tight slacks. At some point, each dancer starts to shed their clothing. He strips out of his jacket, tossing it towards your party where your friends catch it. Eventually, they reach the point of the show where each dancer performs a solo act. They step up and choose a woman in the audience who volunteers to be selected, usually a bride. You turn to Sara, asking her who her choice would be. She points to Nanami, whispering, “Definitely him.” A pang of jealously surrounds your chest, wishing you were posing as a bride tonight. It passes quickly, happy to live vicariously through your best friend.

After the first four strippers perform, Nanami’s turn comes. He steps forward in his half-buttoned dress shirt and unzipped slacks, teasing the black briefs he’s wearing beneath. Many women raise their hands, begging to be picked. Sara hoists both her arms, waving at him. He looks at her, then at you, back to her, holding his palm out to beckon her on stage. Suddenly, Sara shoves you, yelling, “She’s going up for me!”

The rest of the crowd cheers, coaxing you to get on. Nanami has a pleased grin on his face, waiting for you, almost like he expected this. You make your way slowly, stunned that this is really happening. As you stand before him, he pulls the feather boa off you slowly, letting it fall beside him on the floor, tipping your hat to see your face, like he did earlier at the bar. You can barely make out the Principal saying, “It seems our cowgirl has finally found her cowboy! Better take the proper position!”

Nanami’s voice is hot on your ear, low and soothing amidst the chaos surrounding you. “Can you lay down for me? I promise, I won’t touch you.”

You swallow hard, bending to lay flat on the stage, head towards the crowd. Nanami stands above you with you between his legs. You notice the outline of his cock in his pants and before you know it, you’re salivating profusely, pussy throbbing with arousal. The music starts, and soon, the familiar chorus plays: Promiscuous girl, wherever you are I’m all alone and it’s you that I want. Nanami trails down his chest, popping the rest of his buttons on his dress shirt, revealing his chiseled abs for everyone to gawk at.

The intense bass of the song and the shrieks of those watching pound your eardrums, and even with that as a distraction, all you can do is fixate on Nanami grinding his hips into the air, eyes never leaving yours. Soon, he’s kneeling over you, straddling your chest, still not touching. He rocks himself above you, moving with the beat of the music, bills raining you from the other women. Arms caging you in, he leans in, soothing voice in your ear again, whispering, “You can touch me, if you’d like.” He sits up, straddling you, running his fingers through his hair.

Without thinking, you act on instinct, hooking at the elastic of his briefs, tugging to snap it against his waist. The other dancers behind him whoop, encouraging you to keep going; you drift up to fondle his abs. Sara cheers the loudest from her seat, chucking the rest of her money at you and Nanami.

Unfortunately, the song fades out, ending the performance. There’s a standing ovation, more cash being thrown on stage. Nanami doesn’t seem to care as he removes himself from you, helping you on your feet. “Are you alright?”

Too mortified to meet his gaze, you look at the floor at all the bills scattered, nodding sheepishly. You’re not sure how you make it to your seat, Sara hugging you tightly, the other girls hollering for you. Your mind is still completely focused on Nanami, desperate for more.

The show ends and the emcee announces that the dancers will come out to greet the crowd. You have your face buried in your hands, embarrassed about the whole situation, despite your friends being thrilled about. Wanting to get out of there as quickly as possible, you gather everyone, ready to return to the hotel just a four blocks away. On your way towards the exit, someone grabs your wrist gently. You turn, surprised to be face Nanami, in his office attire. He murmurs your name, a blush in his cheeks, hair ruffled from his rousing performance. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

Snapping out of it, you reply, “Yes, I’m fine. Thank you for such a fun night.”

You expect him to let you go, but he doesn’t, holding your hand in his. “I don’t live far from here. Just down the street.” He reaches into his pocket, passing a business card to you. “Call me if you want. I’d really like to see you again, get to know you better.”

You take it, smiling at him. “We have to get to our hotel now. But thank you.”

He nods politely, dropping his grip, watching you leave out the door with the rest of your cowgirls.

~~~

It takes nearly two hours to get everyone settled for the night. Stomped on cowboy hats litter the floor of your hotel room. Whatever is left of the breadsticks gets consumed within minutes while the remaining snacks you’ve purchased throughout the trip are eaten without so much as a crumb left. You make sure everyone is hydrated with their own water bottles and help them unzip their little black dresses so that they can slip into their pajamas. Sara keeps babbling about how much fun she had, how hot all of the strippers were. She ends up leaving her soon-to-be husband a hilariously drunk voicemail reiterating her love for him.

It's a little past three in the morning, the rest of the girls sleeping soundly in the bed, your best friend snoring noisily. Nobody budges when you sneak out of the room in your black dress, rocking the cowboy hat and boots, following the directions to the address Nanami texted you after you messaged him first, asking if he’s still up. You don’t expect him to respond seconds later, convinced he’s asleep by now, so you’re more than excited to know that he’s awake, possibly waiting for you.

He meets you in the lobby of his apartment complex, dressed in grey sweatpants and a white undershirt. Even in his casual wear, you’re drawn to him. He looks you up and down, smirking when he sees you. “Howdy, cowgirl.”

You laugh, following him to the elevator heading up the fifth floor. His hands are stuffed in his pockets during the ride, keeping a safe distance from you. You tap your foot, the boots making a clicking noise on the tiled floor. You turn to him, inching a bit closer. “I hope I didn’t keep you up. It took a while to get everyone to bed.”

He faces you, eyes twinkling with kindness. “You’re a really good friend, taking care of them like that.” He pauses, stepping to the side, closing the distance, arms brushing now. “But who’s taking care of you?”

Deciding to be bold, you reply, “I was hoping you could take care of me tonight. If you’re okay with that.”

The doors split open, finally on the right floor. He reaches for you, lacing his fingers with yours, leading you into the hallway, rushing to his room. Once inside, he traps you against the door, caging you between his arms, looking at you with an intense expression. “You’re sure you want me to take care of you?”

You tug on his collar, pulling him in. “I’m positive.” He leans in kissing you softly on the lips, palm cupping your cheek. He breaks apart briefly to remove your hat, tossing it behind him, going in for more. You slip out of your shoes, following him into the bedroom, kicking the door closed behind you.

“Can you lay down for me, sweetheart?” He’s hot on your ear, exactly the way he said it on the stage just hours ago. You bite back a moan, so incredibly turned on while you get on the bed, lying flat on your back, anticipating. He rolls the hem of your dress up your thighs, enough so that you can spread them apart, exposing your panties to him, already damp with arousal.

“Wow,” he says, kissing the plush of your thighs. “You’re incredible.” He hooks the crotch of your panties to the side, pussy throbbing. He swears under his breath, readjusting himself so that he can stroke his cock through his pants, pressing a soft kiss to your clit. You squirm from the contact, moaning his name, his tongue licking circles around you. He doesn’t hold back, pushing himself deeper, lapping at your clit.

You clench the sheets beneath you, grinding on his face. He responds by eating you out sloppier, spitting thick wads of saliva to smear on your clit. “Fuck, you taste so good,” he groans, licking your cunt, collecting your slick on his tongue. “I want you to come on my face, sweetheart. Can you do that for me?”

Head thrown into the pillows, you whimper, “Yes,” reaching for his hair, feeling him thrash around, slobbering all over you until you climax, gushing into his mouth. He continues to flick your swollen bud with his tongue while you ride out your high, stopping only when you recoil from him, overstimulated. He surfaces, meeting your lips with his, messy with your arousal. You exchange a few more kisses before he strips his shirt off, followed by his pants. You almost gasp out loud at the impressive bulge in his briefs, palming it.

He nibbles on your ear lobe, rutting his erection against you, whispering, “Ride it, cowgirl. Ride me.”

Sliding out of your panties, you get into position, facing away while you straddle him, his grip on your ankles, adjusting you so you’re sat on his lap. You lift your ass, letting him guide his hard cock inside you, stretching you out gradually, inch-by-inch. “Fuck,” you hear him curse behind you, bottoming out. He slaps one of your cheeks, squeezing the flesh between his fingers. You bounce on him, ass jiggling with each pump of his cock, slutty moans pouring out of your mouth.

“Look at you go, fuck. You’re perfect. So perfect for me,” he purrs, guiding you up and down his dick.

He’s so deep, hitting that sweet spot with every thrust, your core tight with pleasure. Your tongue hangs out, drool leaking from the sides of your lips, eyes glazed over in bliss. You’re getting your brains fucked out of you and you find yourself blurting out every carnal desire crossing your mind. “Film me, Nanami. Want to see it.”

He gets even stiffer. “Yeah? You want to see how this fat ass swallows my cock up, huh? Better ride it harder, cowgirl.” Reaching for his phone, he holds it up, camera towards you. Before he records, he confirms one more time, “Are you sure you want this, sweetheart?”

You nod, whimpering, “Yes,” leaning down to grip the end of the bed, giving you more leverage to get fucked deeper.

“There you go. Keep fucking me,” he grunts, filming you now. “Use this cock to get yourself off. Let me take care of you, make you feel good.” His voice encouraging you pushes you closer to the edge, on the verge of another orgasm. You whine his name, moving faster.

“What is it, baby?” he coos, sweat beading on his forehead. “Are you going to come for me again?”

“Fuck yeah. Going to come on this cock,” you moan, rubbing your clit.

“Then do it. Give me all that fucking cum, sweetheart. Don’t hold back. Squirt on it. Cream all over it, oh fuck,” he growls, thrusting into you. “Can I come with you? Please, pretty girl? Can I breed you and make you mine?”

That does it. You orgasm, clutching him tight, pussy squeezing around him. Seconds later, he comes, filling you with his hot load, pumping his cock until he’s milked dry. He stays inside you for a bit, admiring the view before lifting your ass to pull out, watching his creamy mess leak out of you slowly, wet cock flopped against his abdomen. He stops the recording, running his fingers along his hair, damp with perspiration. “Come here,” he says, caressing one of your ankles tenderly, setting his phone on the nightstand.

You crawl to him, nuzzling your nose to his chest as he wraps you in his arms. It’s silent for a moment, neither of you sure of what to say next. He clears his throat, speaking first. “I hope you don’t think I do this often.”

You look at him, confused. “Do what?”

“Take women home from work. To do this.”

Smiling, you respond, “Even if you did, it wouldn’t matter to me.”

He hugs you tighter, kissing you on the forehead. “Still, I just wanted to make that clear.”

You trace the outline of his abs idly. “Well, in that case, I don’t do this often either.”

He chuckles, mimicking you now. “Do what?”

“Hook up with sexy dancers from the strip club.”

Another smooth, this time on the cheek. “It wouldn’t matter to me even if you did.”

You cuddle with each other for a while longer, reluctant to let go. Begrudgingly, you break away from him to check the time. “I should probably head back now.”

He nods. “Can I walk you there?”

“Sure.”

It’s a short trip back to the hotel, so you take your time, walking slowly, fingers laced together. “Is it a long flight home for you tomorrow?” he asks.

“We all actually live close-by, so we drove here together.”

He stops, pausing to look at you carefully. “You live around here?”

“Yes. And I work here in the city.”

His lips parts, sputtering nonsense before he responds, “I thought I’d have to say goodbye to you tonight.”

“Do you not want to?”

“No, I don’t. I’d like to see you again if that’s okay with you.”

You lean into him. “I’d like that too. I don’t go around giving my breadsticks to anyone, you know. Only the special ones.”

He chuckles, wrapping his arm around your shoulder, pulling you in close. “And I don’t go around giving my breadstick to just about anyone either.”

“Oh no,” you laugh, hiding your face. “Don’t tell me these are the kind of jokes you make.”

“Unfortunately, it is. And now, you’re stuck with them.”

You hug him around the waist, gazing at him lovingly. “Lucky me.”

He smiles at you. “Me too.”

#nanami smut #nanami x you #nanami x reader #kento nanami #nanami #nanami kento #kento nanami smut #kento nanami x reader #kento nanami x you #nanami kento smut #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento x you #nanami kento fluff #kento nanami fluff #nanami fluff #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #y2k karaoke party #milestone event

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toxicanonymity · 2 years ago

Text

The Barbecue. Silence can never be bought, only rented (pt. 5 of 6)

5k / dbf!Joel x f!Reader, 18+ / pt 1 / master list

The long-awaited HOG (hot old guy) barbecue. Joel watches in the reflection of the window as you get out of the pool and grab a towel. You follow him inside. "Don't tell me that made you jealous," you say. "Turned me on," he responds, and you can tell.

NEXT: part 6 / Story Master List

WARNINGS/NOTES: NSFW 18+ dry humping, vaginal fingering, jacking off, brief oral (M receiving), semi-public-ish, swallowing, alcohol, irresponsible cook-out behavior, DON'T DRINK AND DRIVE, some angst, reader wears Joel's shirt, lack of PIV, blue balls. Do not read the dad as your actual dad!

Tags - This story: @jbcalway @daddy-din @angelmenace @silkiers @axshadows @legs0pen4dilfs @fan-fiction-floozy @grnherbs @icuminurbutt @lokanda @not-a-unique-snowflakewflake89 @likeanimagepassingby2 @witchy-jadda @mxtokko @missannwinchester @cannolighost @anxiousankylosaurus @montenegroisr @97cityy @lillyrob @billyloomiswhore4 @cloudroomblog @boysddontcry @blackvelveteen1339 @twsssmlmaa @call-me-doll-facee @str84pedro

All Joel: @ethanhoewke @silkiers @eiviea. @evyiione. ty @dark-scape for the support as usual.

Lmk if i missed you. Idk why some are buggy.

You don’t hear from Joel for days. The first day, you’re a mess of feelings, pinballing between numb and smitten.

You feel like you don't really know anyone in your life. The people you thought were closest are perfect strangers. You don't trust anyone. Your roommate is spending all her time with that friend of Chad’s. Your friend from home is on a trip overseas and won’t be back until the day after Independence Day. You feel like you don’t have anyone to hang out with, talk to, or even sit in silence with. You’re lonely and pensive.

On the other end of the spectrum, your mind (and body) frequently drift to that long-awaited kiss, and everything that happened in that hotel suite. You almost feel like if you can sleep with Joel, everything will be right in the world, even when it’s all wrong. Even when he’s part of what’s wrong. You know it’s illogical.

One afternoon, for a change of scenery, you go to the bookstore with the cafe where you work. Maybe you’re clinging to the last bit of familiarity that’s left. On the bulletin board at the entrance, there’s a flyer for Chad's band playing at your favorite spot. That must be why he originally came by the cafe the other day.

While you’re in the middle of the bookstore, you get a text from Joel and your face burns when you open it. It’s a disappearing dick pic. Not just his dick. It’s a blow job POV including his dick. “Your souvenir,” he says, like that’s all that happened. Your blood boils but also rushes to your loins.

That’s all he has to say to you? You respond, “really?” He’s trying to act like that whole car ride never happened.

“Wanna talk about it?” he responds. It’s nice that he offers, and your heart probably swells a little too much at the basic decency, but you’re actually not sure you want to talk about it. You’re almost afraid to find out more. You already wish you could rewind and live in blissful ignorance.

After an exhausting day of stewing and sulking, you decide to go to Chad’s show. It feels pathetic, but who cares? The way you see it, you don’t have anything to lose. Chad can’t hurt you anymore. It’s hard to imagine anyone who could. You text Chad to let him know you’re coming. He doesn’t text you back.

When you get to the venue, you don’t see anyone you know, at first. There’s still another band to play before them, so they should be hanging out near the merch table and you make your way over there. Finally, you see their drummer behind the cash box, then you see Chad’s hair from the back. The drummer says something to Chad, then Chad looks over at you. Your stomach turns when you see his face. You can only see half of it, but there’s a gauze bandage across his eyebrow and upper cheekbone. His mouth is scabbed over. Joel. Chad makes himself scarce as soon as he sees you.

You finally respond to Joel, “not really.” And that’s that. But you don’t know how you’re going to face him or your dad when you go home for the holiday.

On Independence Day, you’re so anxious that you drive right past the turn onto Joel’s street. You don’t forget, you just decide not to turn. You go to your friend’s house, even though you know she isn’t there. It’s a familiar place to park your car and try to calm yourself down. You sit there for almost an hour doing nothing but scrolling tumblr and listening to music.

When you don’t arrive at the barbecue, your dad and Joel separately call you and you don’t answer either of them. Based on your degree of dread with each respective call, you realize your dad is the one you least want to see. You’re not really harboring much negativity toward Joel at this point.

Frank texts you and you finally take a deep breath and decide to show up. Your plan is to detach as much as possible and let yourself leave as soon as you’re uncomfortable.

You pull up to Joel’s house wearing a bikini and the flannel with a change of clothes in your Billy Loomis tote. Pretty much everyone is already at Joel’s house. Tommy and Maria, Bill and Frank, your dad and stepmother, a couple of Joel’s neighbors, and two of your dad’s work friends, rounding out the requisite hot old guys (HOGs), according to your friend, at least. One of the HOGs, Steve, always looks at you like a piece of meat. You used to think he was just an old creep, but now he strikes you as a bit of a DILF.

A light breeze carries the smell of propane and pork butt as you approach the pool gate. Only Frank is in the pool. You’ll probably hang out with him the whole time. Joel is at the grill in swim trunks and t-shirt, talking to one of your father’s work friends. He doesn't even look up when you open the gate. His swim trunks sure do show a lot of thigh.

Your stepmother is all over your dad. You pry him off with a hug out of spite and to face your fears. Then, you go to the grill and hug Joel from the side. It’s way too hot to stand there long.

“There she is,” Tommy announces on the other side of the grill. He’s talking to a guy you don’t recognize who turns around and does a double-take.

“This is Jesse, he works with your dad.”

He extends his hand and says “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Hmm, that sounds ominous." You can imagine being very attracted to Jesse even a week ago, but suddenly you don't have interest in anyone under 40.

"Well I heard you like to swim, at least. I didn't wanna swim alone," Jesse says.

Frank has a tray at the side of the pool with a glass of wine and his phone on it. He puts his glass of wine down when you walk up.

"Thank God, I've been drinking by myself," he says.

"And what kind of pairing is this for your pork butt?" you tease him as you sit down on the edge and put your feet in. Bill just barely raises his glass to wave at you. He's sitting alone under the shade of an umbrella, wearing khakis and a button-down shirt.

"Hey I think I have this shirt," Frank says, and takes the flannel between his thumb and finger. He studies it contemplatively for a moment. You catch up with Frank for a while.

You call over to the grill, "Joel are you gonna swim?"

"I'm on butt duty," he says.

Frank gives you an inquisitive look then asks if you're gonna get in.

You put your stuff down on a chair, take the shirt off, and start applying sunscreen. Joel watches as you rub it into your bikini top. Then you turn around to give him a side view as you rub it into the part of your butt cheeks hanging out of the bottoms.

Jesse moseys over within seconds and takes off his shirt. And well, damn. When Jesse raises his eyebrows at you, you realize you've been staring while lazily reaching over your shoulder and applying sunscreen. You were really just looking at his tattoos. Mostly.

“Nice ink,” you say.

"Need a hand?" He asks. Why not? You hand Jesse the sunscreen and watch his face as he squirts some into his palm. He bites his lip.

You turn around facing the pool – facing Joel – and stretch out one leg in front of you, keeping the other bent, while Jesse rubs lotion into your back. He doesn’t do it in an erotic way, but you curl your toes and subtly bite your lip as though it is. You let your legs fall open a bit.

You lower yourself into the pool and have small talk with Jesse for a minute, then Joel says your real name for once and it makes your eyes go wide. He doesn't say it that loud but you still hear him from across the pool. "Gimme a hand?" He asks.

Jesse stays in the pool and awkwardly makes small talk with Frank.

Joel watches in the reflection of his big living room windows as you lift yourself out of the pool and get a towel. You follow him inside to the small, secondary kitchen and he closes the door behind you..

He pins you up against the counter, already aroused, and further hardens against your wet swimsuit, flooding you with desire from your core to your chest.

"Havin' fun?" He growls in your ear.

"Don't tell me that made you jealous."

"Turned me on," he says, low and horny.

He kisses your chin, then your neck. Your hands wrap around him and grab his ass, pulling him into you harder with your own soft grunt.

He slips his hand under the damp cup of your bikini top, his fingers curving around the side of your breast, thumb resting at your cleavage. His warm palm pushes your cold, hard nipple as he firmly cradles your breast, his hand applying slow pressure in rhythm with his hips. Your knees are weak. You're dripping, not just from the pool.

He wraps his arms around you and slides his warm hands into the sides of your swimsuit bottom, grabbing hold of your cold ass cheeks. He groans, "God almighty.”

He kneads your ass, pulling you into him and his rock-hard length. He kisses your neck and grinds himself into you. The feeling of his warm, thick rod slowly rutting against your clit drives you mad. You couldn’t get any wetter. If you don't have this man inside you soon, you might actually die. You reach into his shorts and use your other hand to try to take them down. He doesn't stop you.

But there’s a knock at the door. Good Lord. You know who it's going to be.

Joel puts his dick away and removes a big pan of coleslaw from the fridge. He hands you the coleslaw while you open the door.

"Am I interrupting anything?" She asks.

"No," You say, then cock your head and add "Am I?" You hold eye contact for several seconds, then hand her the cole slaw and ask, "don't you and Dad have some catching up to do?"

Your stepmother takes the coleslaw outside.

You close the door behind her. “Basement?,” you ask, and start toward the pantry at the back of the space. There’s a hidden staircase that opens into the movie theater downstairs.

Joel groans and rubs his beard. “Later,” Joel says with a sigh. “We better go back out.”

You scoff. “Really?”

“Go on back outside.” He opens the door to the main kitchen.

When you get back to the pool, Jesse's already gone, talking to your dad. When you get back in, Frank says, "You little minx." He's got Instagram pulled up on his phone and shows you a picture from several years ago of Joel and him together, both wearing the shirt you arrived in. "Tell me everything."

Your face gets hot. “Seems to be a popular shirt,” you say.

"No," Frank says. "Shirt's just the kicker. There's something about the way you say each other's names. They sound like a secret." Frank is good at reading people.

"What, you think I fucked him? I didn't." At least you don't have to lie about that.

"Maybe not yet," he scoffs. Frank looks behind you and covers his mouth, then says “Look at his shirt." Yeah, Joel’s shirt has just the right wet spots. In theory, they could've been from a hug. It basically was a hug.

"Ever heard of a hug?" you say.

Frank raises his eyebrows then holds up his glass of wine and "accidentally" clinks his wedding ring on it before downing the rest. Bill hears it and comes over with the bottle. Frank gives him a look with the slightest nod across the pool, like he can't even wait a couple hours to share his new gossip. Bill's eyes dart over to Joel, then meet Frank's eyes again. As usual, no reaction is visible on Bill's face, aside from a twinkle in his eye. "Everything to your liking, sir?" he asks Frank.

Frank smiles, "Come on, at least dip your feet," but Bill leaves. Just as well, Frank's not done prodding you.

"It's okay, you don't have to tell me," Frank shrugs. "But I know you want to. . . and my lips are sealed. . ."

Frank is one of the most trustworthy people you know, so you don't worry about him spilling it. You just don’t feel like saying it out loud and putting words to it. Once it exists in the air, it’s something that can be broken. Something that can fall apart.

You panic and tell Frank about Joel and your stepmother instead. You claim you're just keeping Joel close for now while you decide what to do. You leave out any details about what close means.

The initial look on his face is horror, then Frank looks like he's going to cry. "Are you okay?"

"Chill," you say, looking around nervously. "Jesus, how much wine have you had?"

"Sorry, I just. I'm sorry. I know it's hard. That's all." He hugs you, and over Frank’s shoulder, you see Joel looking across the pool with his brow furrowed even more than usual.

"Well, don't forget my dad cheated on my mom with her, so, whatever," you say.

"Well, exactly. That's why I worry-"

Your face tells him to stop, so he changes the subject. "So what about that guy from the band, is that still a thing?"

You sigh. "Chad? No. Nothing juicy, just no."

"Got it," he says and you know you can trust him not to bring it up again. He follows your eyes back to Joel. You’re not off the hook, but at least you don’t have to talk about it.

The actual meal is relatively uneventful. It’s hard to be around your father right now. Deep down, you knew there were secrets. You knew he wasn’t the most upstanding man. You never fully trusted him after what he did to your mom. But at this point, he feels like a stranger. You’re almost glad his wife is cheating on him.

Steve, the hotter of your dad’s non-Joel friends, tries hitting on you. Asks if you like to party. Says he bets you get pretty wild after a few drinks. Pressures you to do shots with him. Why not, you think. You do one shot, but make Joel join in.

“Bad fuckin’ influence over here,” Joel says and gives Steve a slap on the back. Steve tries to egg you on to do more, but you don’t and neither does Joel.

"That's why we call him Mr. One Shot," Jesse says. laughing at his own joke.

Joel bristles at the nickname and crosses his arms, jamming his hands under his ungodly biceps.

Steve lowers his voice and asks Joel, "How many shots in Uvalde?" Joel doesn’t answer.

"One," Jesse says. "Miller’s too modest, you're embarrassing him," he laughs.

Joel tenses. "Give it a rest, Jesse. Have some discretion."

Jesse looks at your end of the table and swallows. “Right”

Your stepmother abruptly changes the subject. She asks Jesse how old he is and why she hasn’t seen him before. She’s drunk, and every time she looks at Jesse, she looks like she could eat him alive.

Your dad elbows Jesse. “I think my wife likes you,” he says with a wink. It’s awkward.

Joel’s face is a little pink from the sun, and it looks good on him. He’s looking at your face, but not making eye contact. He seems to be in a trance. You kind of feel like you should still be mad at him, but for some reason, you’re not. And you’re not going to deprive yourself out of spite. You can feel Frank noticing every detail of this.

Bill pours the last of a bottle of wine, and you volunteer to go to the wine cellar. Bill says they’ve had enough. Frank protests that he wants one more glass. He asks you for a German Riesling, with a wink. You subtly shake your head at him, falsely denying what he knows you’re up to.

You stand in the wine cellar, enjoying the cool air, then sit on a cabinet that spans the whole back wall. It’s only a few minutes before you hear Joel’s flip flops echoing down the stairs, presumably with the pretext of helping you find the wine. He crosses the cellar without even glancing at the wine. “Leavin’ for the fireworks in 15,” he says.

He has that horny look in his eyes and there’s already a bulge in his swim trunks. The way his t-shirt stretches over his pecs and arms — God damn.

When Joel reaches you, his massive hands part your knees, then lightly stroke your bare thighs. His lips brush your temple as he says, “You’re gonna get me in trouble one of these days.”

“That’s the idea,” you say as his hands wrap around your back and he slides you closer to the edge of the cabinet. When your crotch comes to rest against his, an acute desire floods your breasts. You squeeze his sides with your thighs, then roll your hips into his arousal and hook your hands under his arms, bringing him closer.

You slide your hands down his back and into his swim trunks, feeling his ass and bringing the trunks down. At the same time, you pull his hips into you and the swell of his hard-on against your clit makes you throb with need. You start to untie your bikini bottoms while he gropes a breast.

His mouth latches onto your neck. You let the front of the bottoms fall between your thighs, and tilt your hips in just the right way. He brings a hand between your legs and drags his flattened fingers up and down your slippery seam, then thrusts two of them inside and you moan.

“Fuuck,” he breathes.

You grab his cock. “Come on,” you beg as you tug him. He takes his hard length from you, holds it in his hand, and furrows his brow as he pumps his fingers slowly in and out of you. You try to read his face. He breathes heavily as he fingers you.

“Fuck me already,” you beg.

He looks down at himself and shakes his head no, but looks pained by his own answer.

“We both know it’s gonna happen,” you say.

He takes a deep breath as though to restrain himself. “Maybe so, but not tonight.”

He removes his fingers and brings the tip of his cock to your dripping entrance. A bolt of need shoots through you. He dwells there for a moment, takes another deep breath, then lays his stiff manhood vertically against your seam and pulls you tight against him. Then he grinds wetly against your aching clit, and your hips roll into him. Your head falls back and you moan. Your eyes are watery.

“God, Joel. . .this is . . .so dumb. . . just fu-”

You cut yourself off with a moan as he quickens his pace and grunts.

“Pleeease.”

“Shhhhhhh,” he says. You’re on the verge of coming and on the verge of tears. He holds you tight for leverage then goes jackhammer pace.

“Joel. . .”

“Come for me, sugar,” he pants. And not long after, you do. You clench around nothing, pulse against him, and you hear the echo of a breathy “Joel” you didn’t know you said.

He takes his cock in his hand again and looks at you with his pupils blown wide. His breath is ragged as he strokes himself. You find yourself slipping down off the cabinet. He doesn’t deserve what you’re about to do, you just want it for yourself, for whatever reason. He steps back and you squat down to face level with his cock. You hover your mouth over it, then wrap your lips around the head, and he comes with an echoing groan before you take any of the shaft into your mouth. His cum even tastes unattainable. Your eyes sting.

You fix your swimsuit and compose yourself.

“C’mere,” he says and hugs you. You don't really hug him back. You wipe a tear off your cheek. He tries to kiss you, but you’re too upset, and it would make you need him even worse than you already do.

Joel’s phone rings and he picks it up. “We’re comin’,” he says. “C’mon, let’s go.” He puts his arm around you but your demeanor doesn’t soften. You’ve had it with him depriving you.

“Ya know, maybe it’s a good night to talk to my dad,” you threaten as you near the top of the stairs.

“Damn, Trouble.” You can't tell if he’s impressed or judging you. “I said not tonight. I didn’t say never.”

That makes you think twice, at which point you realize what you just did. . .You tried to blackmail Joel for sex.

He adjusts his shorts. God, what’s become of this situation in just a few days - you try to put it out of your mind. You can beat yourself up over it later.

Joel stops you with his hand on yours before you open the door. “Look,” he continues. “Before you do anything stupid, there’s somethin’ I should tell you later.”

You lean against the wall and cross your arms. “Lemme guess, you and Dad are up to some shady, dangerous shit.”

“Nothin’ to do with that,” Joel says, lowering his voice.

“So you are.”

“Dangerous, yes, shady, no. We’re the good guys. Less you know ‘bout that, the better.”

“Why?”

“For your safety.”

You open the door to the living room and people are milling around deciding who’s riding with whom to the fireworks. Frank says, “hey, she didn’t get bricked in,” and hands you your bag from outside so you can change.

You and Joel ride with Bill and Frank to the fireworks. Frank keeps looking back and making small talk, but you and Joel mostly look out your opposite windows. You get to thinking about what Joel said. Not tonight. . . I didn’t say never. . . If he means that, maybe it’s worth the wait. Maybe you should hear him out, whatever he has to tell you.

During the fireworks, you come around a little. Joel playfully covers your ears, knowing you’ve always hated loud noises. When Bill and Frank drop you off at Joel’s afterwards, everyone is going their separate ways. You're relieved to see your dad and stepmother drive off before you have to say goodbye.

You start to go to your car, wanting to quit while you're ahead and not end up begging for it again. Joel stops you with gentle hands on your shoulders.

"Come in for a minute. Let's talk." A pit opens in your stomach.

The two of you go in through the pool gate. “Lemme make you a drink,” he says. That sounds even worse.

. . .

Joel hands you your favorite cocktail, then comes around the bar with his own drink to sit on the stool next to you. He takes a deep breath and puts his hand on your knee. He seems almost as nervous as you are. You can't remember seeing him nervous before.

“Yeah?” you prompt him.

He nods and takes a sip of his drink, then looks you in the eye. He puts his glass down, then takes yours out of your hand and puts it down on the counter too.

He swivels you toward each other. He looks like he's about to say something, then something changes in his eyes. He cradles your head with both hands, lays his lips into yours, and kisses you slow and hard, his tongue dipping into your mouth.

After a few seconds, you don’t even notice the taste of his whiskey, and his hands trace your body on their way down to your thighs. It’s intense but tender. You can’t help but feel like it’s some kind of a kiss goodbye. It scares you. He slides off the stool and gets in between your knees, tries to put your legs around him again, and that’s certainly where your legs want to go. But you want to hear what he has to say first.

You pull away and your hand drifts up to your lips. They buzz from his fervor. Your chest rises and falls.

“Spit it out,” you tell him.

“Right," he says. "I dunno if you’re still gonna wanna. . .” He downs his drink. It’s hard for you to imagine anything that would make you not want to fuck him anymore.

Finally, he begins. "Alright. . . ‘member what I said at lunch the other day, 'bout how monogamy isn’t for everyone?"

"Yeah." If this is all to say it’s not for him, it’s not hitting like much of a bombshell. Now, if he's going to tell you about other people he's fucking–when he's not even fucking you—that's a different story.

"Well," he clears his throat and looks away. "Your dad-"

You interrupt him with a loud sigh. "Just because he cheats doesn't mean you can sleep with his wife." You’re annoyed he’s even going there.

Joel holds up his hands as though to tell you to slow down. "Lemme finish. 'member what I said, how even in a marriage, some couples. . . ." He tries to make you fill in the blanks for yourself, but you won't. "Okay,” he shifts in his seat and begins to gesticulate vaguely. “Your dad and stepmother, they have an arrangement."

You feel the blood drain from your face. You think about the way she was eyeing Jesse. "Gross," you say.

He swallows and nods regretfully as you process this. He waits patiently as your heart races along with your thoughts, then you spill them out all at once. "I dunno why I would believe you. OR why you would believe her. Is that what she told you?” You laugh. “Whatever. Even if it's true, you aren't just any guy-"

"He knows," Joel says almost somberly. “About me.”

"Oh, he knows?" you laugh. He couldn't possibly. This is a terrible attempt at defusing the whole situation for himself. And yet, he looks like he feels bad for you.

"The first time, he talked me into it."

Deep breaths. "That's insane. That's. . .this is your new plan? Try to convince me my dad is some perverted cuckold?"

"No, not like that." He shivers in disgust. "Damn, Trouble. That's where your head went? No. . . when he. . .it was like. . . a swap.”

Your stomach turns.

“Okay, remember my date to Bill and Frank's wedding? The stripper?” Your heart sinks. “Your dad, um, really liked her, and-"

"I get the picture," you say, closing your eyes and pinching the bridge of your nose, recalling that your dad did in fact really like Joel's date. It was embarrassing.

"It was casual with me and. Shit, what was her name. Anyway, we were all stayin' in that hotel gettin' sloshed at the pool, an-"

You open your eyes and say, "Yeah, I got it, okay?" Then, you walk over to the sofa to sit down. He follows you. You feel sick to your stomach and don't want to hear another word about it. You cross your arms and slouch, sitting in silence for a moment.

He hesitantly puts his hand on your knee, sending a rush of blood to your loins. You don’t know what to feel.

"Did you really end it with her?" You ask.

He sighs. "More or less."

Now rage starts simmering in your chest.

"Told her I wanted a break.”

Unbelievable.

“That just — it lessens the blow. But trust me, I'm not doin' it again. Especially after how she’s been actin’."

You wish you could believe him.

You ask, "Why'd you let me think it was some huge secret?"

He's quiet for a moment.

"I don’t think your dad would appreciate you knowin’ about it," he says. "But I was gonna tell you anyway."

“Yeah, right.”

“‘Yeah. . . ‘member all those calls you ignored?”

“But then I got to thinkin’ about it, and I guess. . . .”

"What?”

"I," he pauses and sighs. "Shit, I dunno, it was hot. Really hot. The way you acted, thinkin' you had somethin' over me. . .never saw that side of you before."

Now this you can believe.

"Next day, still thought about tellin’ ya. But after the pool, there was no goin’ back. I mean, damn."

There’s a sparkle in his eye as he reflects on that. He adjusts himself, which always makes you tingle, even now. Especially now? God, you have no idea.

"Guess it kinda did somethin' to me,” he says. He raises his eyebrows and gives your thigh a rub, but you flinch. It isn’t personal, you’re just on edge, but his eyes get sad and he takes his hand away, resting it in his lap as he sits back lazily on the couch.

You ask, "So why tell me now?"

"I dunno, maybe I'm growin' a conscience."

You try to make sense of that, but you can’t. Why would he feel guilty about you doing something as depraved as blackmailing him into sex?

"Woulda been hot as hell though. Maybe I shoulda let ya go through with it. Damn.”

It sounds like everything is up to him, and apparently, it is.

He hesitantly rests his hand on your back and slowly rubs it. You take a deep breath and sigh audibly. You’re melting under his fingertips.

He lowers his voice, “So, now that you know everything . . .”

His phone buzzes. When he looks at it, he tenses and sharply inhales.

“Your dad’s here,” he says.

And your car is still parked outside in the turnaround.

Planning for the next chapter to be the last in this story. . .

#joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #perdo pascal #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal smut #toxicanonymity ☠️#toxicdbf #dbf!joel #pervy!joel #dbf!joel miller #joel miller/reader #joel miller/you #bill and frank #joel jacks off #toxic dilf summer

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wedgiestoriescollective · 11 months ago

Text

The Senior: A Night in a Hotel Room

(The last Re-Upload)

Chase and I continued our interesting relationship after the events that took place after the choir concert. But the holidays are always a busy time, even during school. I had projects to complete and so did Chase, our daily routine of me giving Chase’s underwear a pull died down for a bit. I did get him a couple times. One time during a break at our choir practice, I yanked his American Eagle trunks up his butt when we were alone in the church's library. Oh man, that was so hot. His jeans were so tight that day, and he was wearing a maroon sweater.

He looked like the preppy guys I'd always jack off to that I wish I could wedgie, and here I was. wedgieing him. What made it even better was that he liked it, and I knew it.

Before the holiday break I got to wedgie him one more time. Chase had recently joined the speech team, and I was also on the team. I’d like to believe that he joined the team so that he would have more reasons to spend more time with me, but it probably was one of many reasons. He did a great job in the musical and participating in speech is like participating in judged theatre. So, the cast members and teammates encouraged him to join, so he did. As a member of the team, we were required to work the tournament that our school would host. But Chase was also very good at playing the trumpet so during the day of the tournament he wasn’t available because he earned a spot in the All-Region Band. So, he stopped by near the end of the day and his job for the day was to deliver flowers that we were going to put on the table with the trophies for the awards ceremony. He texted me to help him bring them in. I met him at the loading dock as he was pulling in. Now, the wedgie that I gave him as he was getting out of his front seat was a unique one. He got out and I somehow managed to just grab the waistband without digging for it. His Blue and Red stripped American Eagle boxer briefs went right up his ass. I tugged his leg holes past his dress pants waistband, and as the tug reached its height I said “sup”, and immediately snapped his white waistband to his back.

“Come on” he said, surprisingly annoyed with his wedgie.

“What did you expect? You asked me to help” I said.

“With the flowers?” he asked as he was walking to the trunk of his car while simultaneously picking at his underwear. At this point I'd wedgied him so often that he no longer would go out of sight to adjust himself anymore. He would just pick outright in front of me. I found that hot. It was unexpecting how hot I found that to be.

“Well, sorry I'll hold off on the wedgies, I got those”. I lifted a box of flowers and walked with him into the auditorium. We were alone as we were arranging the flowers, but since the stage was so big and the curtains were down, we had no way of knowing if anyone else was there. So, it wasn't the best time to try to give Chase another wedgie. We continued working quietly getting everything all set up.

I didn’t see Chase until after the holiday break. We texted each other though, he was very good at keeping the text conversation going. It wasn’t all about wedgies. We discussed books and movies that we were both currently reading or watching. Our families. He was very present to listen to my problems. At the time my high school theatre department were prepping auditions for that years play competition. This was the closet that theatre departments in high school got to competing with one another like sports teams do. The point of the competition was to take a play, any play and cut it down to no longer than 50 minutes. My theatre teacher took this play very seriously, taking a lot of time for us to read the play in class, analyze it and audition for roles. There were 16 people in the class and only 7 roles. There was a specific role in the play that I thought I'd be right for. The role required for the actor to be able to play a young prince who may or may not have had an affair with a prince from another country. The point of the role was that you never knew for sure if the characters were gay or not. I was obsessed with the idea of possibly getting the chance to play this role, I memorized scenes, I actively participated in discussions about the play in class. I made it obvious to my theater teacher that I really wanted the role. Being in the cast for this specific play in the theatre department basically marked you as someone who is a top actor in the school. I knew I was good, but there were a lot of other guys in the department that were older and talented too. But the other kid that was my age in the theatre class Micah, was in the competition play last year and he had the experience and could very well be cast in this role. It shouldn't have bothered me as much as it did, but Micah was the top of our class, and he participated in theatre because it was something that he could put on his college apps. His family were very devoted Christians which isn’t a problem except for the fact that he would argue that the role I wanted wasn't a homosexual. He would argue this because he knew that if he was cast in the show that it would be in that role and he clearly felt that it was against his religion, so he was trying to find a reason to be able to play it. I’d say I was straight, but I knew that I wasn’t. But this role spoke to me, especially at that time and if I got it, maybe it was the reason that I needed to give myself permission to accept myself. I really wanted that part.

The weekend that the cast list was supposed to be posted, my speech team was away at a speech tournament six hours away from home. The prelim rounds went okay on that first day and Chase and I were placed in the same hotel room for the night with twin brothers that were specifically on the debate team. So, that night after the speech kids were done with their rounds, the debate kids were going to remain there till late. The hotel room had two beds and since the twin brother debaters would obviously sleep together in one of them, I was going to sleep with Chase in the other. And not only that, I was going to get to spend a lot of time alone with Chase in a room with a bed

When Chase and I got back to the hotel room, I went ahead and took a shower. We had a long day of traveling and both Chase and I had been in suits all day. I brought my sweats and tank that I would sleep in the bathroom with me and showered. When I got out of the bathroom with my sleep clothes on there was Chase, standing at the closet in only his boxers. He was hanging up his suit, after taking everything off. Though I've wedgied Chase a lot, I had never seen him without his shirt, and staring at him from behind I immediately noticed the smoothness of his shoulders. Chase wasn't muscular in the sense that he looked like a Calvin Klein model, but he was close. His butt in those boxers were very nice as well. The boxers were navy blue, obviously American Eagle because there were multiple Eagle logos al over them. He turned around,

“Hey, my turn’ he said.

I must have not been hiding my looks of intense lustful admiration because his lips slowly curved to a smirk, and he flexed his chest and hell. He didn’t have a six pack, but his chest was hot, nonetheless. He didn’t have a lot of hair, but there was some that formed a line from the bottom of his belly button to the top the waistband of his boxers. This was the first time that my thoughts went to the possible size of his dick under those boxers. I can't remember for sure, but I was probably hard. Chase started to walk across the room.

“I know what you're thinking, don't do it” he said as he walked by me to go into the bathroom. I quickly turned around after he walked by me. He stopped walking and turned his head slightly.

"You can’t help it can you?” he said.

“I guess not” I replied as my hands slowly gripped his boxers.

I tug slowly. This was my first time giving a wedgie with the other guy not wearing pants. The more I tug the more I see Chase's ass. It was firm and the more his boxers went up his butt, the harder my dick got. I drop his boxers and gently tap both of his checks with my hands.

“Enjoy your shower" I said.

“Thanks” he said walking into the bathroom.

He stayed in there for about ten minutes. When he came out of the bathroom, he had pajama bottoms with multiple XBOX logos on it. He was still wearing the same boxers that I had just wedgied, but the only way I could tell was that he was sagging his pajama bottoms slightly. But I only had a moment to observe that because he ran at me and jumped on me on the bed.

It happened very fast. I can’t remember the specifics. But we were basically wrestling, He was the senior and he was obviously a lot stronger than me, but I gave it my all wrestling wise. He pinned me in headlocks and to the ground. He was a lot stronger. But Chase and I had different end goals. His was to pin me to the ground, mine was to pull his boxers up his butt again. I got his boxers a couple of times in the struggle, but not enough to really count the wedgies I gave him legit. But there was one moment when I ended up on the top of his back. My ass was sitting on his head, and I had to have been tea-bagging Chase as I gripped his boxers in both of my hands. I was also fully hard by that point, and there was no way that Chase didn’t know because my bulge was bulging into his shoulders. But his boxers were in my hand, and I started pulling. Pulling with all the strength possible. Chase was moaning but from pleasure or pain I couldn't tell. I successfully pull one mare strong pull and I heard a slight ripping sound. I snap his boxer’s waistband onto Chase’s back, and I roll off him.

“Fuck, man that was the best wedgie yet” Chase said standing up with his hands in his,

butt fixing his boxers. I stayed laying on the bed breathing heavily.

“Damn man, you sound like we just fucked” he laughed.

I laughed that off, at at that moment a feeling of intense shame came over me. I hadn’t cum but I was close. What did those feelings mean? Why do wedgies turn me on? How can I keep this up? It was clear after today that I had extreme lust towards Chase. After seeing his body, smacking his ass, and wedgieing him like I just had.

“Everything alright man?” Chase asked as he sat down at the front of the bed. But before I could say anything there was a knock on the door.

I went and answered the door, and it was Lexi. She was one of the strongest actresses in the theatre department. A shoo in for the lead role in the competition play. She was texted the cast list for the competition play and wanted me to see it. I didn’t get the part… or any part in the play. Micah got the part. Lexi said that she wanted me to know because she didn’t want me to have to wait until Monday to see the cast list myself, but I think she wanted to tell me because she was (and still is) a world class bitch. I walked back into the room and crushed, I just started crying, I had never been more disappointed. I didn’t get the role that spoke to me and my true sexuality, and here I was crying in front of the only guy that I had ever had strong feelings for. Chase was very nice. He asked me what was wrong, and when I told him he didn't try to console me. He was just quiet as I laid down on the bed,

I must have cried myself to sleep because one moment the lights were on, and the next they were off and there was an arm around my shoulder. It was Chase's. I looked over at the other bed and saw that it was still empty. The twins weren’t back yet. I twisted my body around and there was Chase, with his eyes wide open staring at me. He said nothing and we continued just looking at one another. I wanted to kiss him, and I was positive that he wanted to kiss me. But we didn’t kiss. But what I did feel was a hand gently placing itself around my groin. Chase's hand was over my sweatpants, and he slowly put his hand into my sweats and then, into my boxer briefs. Upon impulse I reached in a removed his hand from my pants. But still staring at him. I let go of his hand. I then proceeded to stick my own, hand in my pants. I gently surrounded my dick with my fingers, and then slowly started lifting. and lowering my dick. I did this while continuing to stare at Chase. Chase decided after a couple moments that he would follow suit. He lifted the covers and stuck his hand in his boxers. We continued touching ourselves while still looking at one another. This was a new experience for me, jerking off with someone else in the room. I found it to be a very exhilarating experience. Someone else looking at me and jerking off too. I couldn't see his dick, and he couldn't see mine. That seemed to make it even hotter. We tried to keep rhythm with each other. I don’t know how long we did this, but I do remember that we didn’t climax at the same time. Chase came first, and I followed about ten seconds after. There were no words spoken during or after except for our moans. After we were done, we put the covers back on and just laid back down in bed together. I started crying again, but it was weird. There was so much sadness in my tears, but also a little comfort in the fact that in that singular moment that I was not alone. I cried gently but was surprised to feel Chase's arms wrap around my body, holding me tightly. We laid there spooned into each other. He was there holding me tightly not letting me go as slowly drifted off to sleep.

I think back to this night often. We were both in the closet at the time, and we were both not ready to admit to ourselves that we had these strong feelings. We just had this strong night together. if we were able to let ourselves be open to each other that night, maybe we would have gone farther in our sexual explorations. I did wish I kissed him that night. I wished that I let him touch me, blow me. I wish I could have seen his whole naked body, and that he could see mine. That night was more than just a wedgie fetish. But regardless, I am still grateful to what we did that night because it was a part of my story, and it was truly one of those moments when I realized that I could be attractive, that I could be desired, and that I won't always have to be alone.

#gay wedgie #wedgie nerd #gay #gay men

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idksmtms · 3 months ago

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Don't Be Nervous (Carlitos Alcaraz x reader)

Request

A/N: Firstly, I am so sorry it has taken me so frickin long to answer this request Anon. I’M SO SORRYYYYY.

Secondly, I LOVE writing for Carlos, so I will take literally any request for him! Idk, that cutie pie has me in some kinda chokehold.

Summary: Carlos is taking you home for the weekend to meet his family for the first time and trying not to laugh at how crazily nervous you are.

Word count: 3,230

Trigger Warnings: she/her pronouns, AFAB reader, anxiety, big relationship moment, mostly just fluffy with a little panicking in the beginning (please let me know if I missed any)

Disclaimer: This is written purely for fictional purposes and for the sake of writing. No disrespect is intended to the real people portrayed/concerned in this scenario.

Always appreciate comments, likes, and reblogs :)

Carlos was lounging on the bed in your hotel room while you sat at the little desk in the corner by the window trying to stop your hand from shaking as you put on your eyeliner. Your flight landed late in the night so you had booked a hotel room to stay in. Though his mother had insisted you come to stay at the house with them, you hadn’t wanted to disturb them that late. He had come to the hotel right after practice ended at noon, just as you were finally waking up from your mini-coma and had crawled into bed with you for an hour.

You had missed him dearly the week you had been travelling and worrying about the impending meeting with his family, so the cuddle session had been welcome. He had slithered under the covers then basically laid his entire body on top of you, laughing softly when you had grunted but simply wrapped your arms around his torso and snuggled your face into his neck. He smelled clean from his shower, like the mint shampoo you had gotten for him near the beginning of your relationship when you had found out he was one of those people that used 3-in-1 shampoo, conditioner, and bodywash. You still teased him about that sometimes even though he had evolved his shower routine. Then he had simply rolled off of you and wrapped you up in his arms, whispering about how much he had missed you against your cheek before (at your nudging) setting a thirty minute timer for a nap.

Now you were awake, showered, finished with blow-drying your hair, dressed in a pretty green flowery dress that you felt demonstrated your best cottage-core self, and trying to get your eyeliner wings even. Carlos was lying on the bed, legs over the edge and phone raised over his face as he scrolled through instagram and shot-down all your insane and irrational worries about meeting his family.

“They already love you and they have not even met you yet!” He exclaimed when you turned to him angrily and said “what if they think I’m some evil little golddigger?!” You just scoffed as if he didn’t understand and he began laughing, dropping his phone beside his head and standing up. He came over to the bench you were sitting on and set himself down beside you, gently brushing his fingers through your hair on the shoulder closest to him. You turned to face him, a pout on your lips as you capped the eyeliner and put it down on the desk. You reached out and draped your arms over his shoulders, dropping your head in the space between you two as you sighed. He only leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the top of your head before lifting it by your chin and making you look him in the eyes.

You loved his eyes. They were so beautiful, so unique, your favourite set of eyes because of the person they came with. The brown was so soft and clear, like what a dark-coloured honey looked like if it was being poured out into the sun. And they were always soft. Even when he was at his most focused in a match and they took on that slightly darker quality, they were soft eyes. You could never believe he was a mean or unkind person simply because of those eyes (biassed as you were).

“I just…” you sighed and shook your head, pursing your lips for a moment. “I really want them to like me. I- I love you,” you shrugged, and he just smiled giddily, leaning over and pressing a kiss to your cheek. You were glad you hadn’t put your foundation on yet otherwise a very different argument would have happened at that moment. “And they’re your family, they shaped you into the person you are today and you love them. I want them to love me too, or at least like me.” And you sighed again as if you felt utterly stupid but he began shaking his head.

“Since they are my family, I would know how they feel, no?” He asked, and you nodded, though hesitatingly. “Ok, so let me tell you how they feel. They think you are beautiful because I send pictures of you on the family group chat all the time. Like probably once a day.” When you only giggled and shook your head, he pulled out his phone and opened one of the screenshots he had taken of the family group chat after he had sent pictures of the two of you on holiday in Greece. “See?” He proffered his phone to you and you grabbed it out of his hand, zooming in on the photo little.

At the top was the picture of you and him you had taken in the mirror before you left for dinner with some of his friends. You had been really proud of your outfit and makeup that day. You had begun tanning from how long you spent on the beach each day and had a pinkish hue under your skin from the heat. Under the photo both of his parents had sent a bunch of heart and starry-eyed emojis. His mother said he looked very handsome and his father simply asked where you guys were going. His brothers hadn’t chimed in yet and he answered his father’s question with a quick out to dinner. Other messages from his mother followed, Y/n looks so beautiful! Make sure you tell her! And another, Ask her where the dress is from, I want one as well. You laughed loudly at that then hit Carlos on the shoulder.

“Ow, why?” He asked through a laugh, watching the smile grow on your face.

“Because your mother told you to ask me where I got the dress from and you never did! What if she thinks I just ignored it or I’m snobby or something?!”

“Cariño, I think she knew I never even asked,” he laughed, shaking his head as you sighed in exasperation and continued reading the messages. Alvaro had simply asked how did you manage to get such a pretty girlfriend and you raised an eyebrow and pointed at the message, shoving the phone in his face for a second before handing it back to him. He put it in his pocket then gently pulled you closer so you were almost sitting on top of him. He kissed you, soft and sweet and quick, before smiling and looking into your eyes. “You worry too much, you know that?”

“Yeah, I know,” you sighed sadly, kissing him one more time before pushing him away and turning back to the mirror on the desk that you were using as your vanity. “Ok, now leave me alone so I can finish my makeup and we can get going. I might actually spontaneously combust if we were late.” And he laughed all the way back to his spot on the bed.

It didn’t take you long to finish your makeup while Carlos continued perusing his instagram reels, occasionally getting up to show you a couple of the funny ones. You were well practised, and after the eyeliner the motions were simpler. You almost had a breakdown when you thought your foundation had started pilling around your nose (and you definitely wouldn’t have time to wipe it all off and put it on again) but it was just some fluff that had gotten caught on your sponge while you were dabbing at it and it came away easily. That was also the moment you decided you really did need to calm down because almost crying over that definitely wasn’t healthy.

You packed your makeup bag into your suitcase before zipping it up and putting it onto the floor. You grabbed your little purse from the side table and the tote bag with gifts for the family. You were quite proud of yourself with your gifts, a pair of pretty silver earrings for his mother, cufflinks for his father, a brightly coloured tennis grip for Jaime (the one that he had been told to save his allowance up for) and chocolates for everyone to share. You wanted them to like you, and gifts usually worked pretty well, you found.

Carlos grabbed the handle of your suitcase as you took one last look around and held the door open for you as you pinched the keycard from the little holder by the lightswitch. He waited patiently by the door, ordering an Uber while you checked out, then telling you to sit in the car while he put the suitcase in the boot. Once the car was on its way, you swivelled to face him in the backseat.

“What if they think I’m an idiot?” You asked, worrying at your lip as the driver changed lanes. Carlos laughed, squinting at you in confusion.

“Why would they think you are an idiot?” He asked, twisting his hand in a ‘what in the world…’ motion.

“I don’t know. Sometimes when I get nervous I talk a lot or I don’t say enough or I don’t think about what I’m actually saying and just- ugh. I sound stupid.”

“Ok, then I have a simple solution for you,” he nodded sagely, like he had been carrying all the answers to the universe and you need only have asked for them.

“What?” You asked sceptically, glaring at him.

“Don’t be nervous,” he shrugged, laughing hysterically while you just crossed your arms over your chest and turned back to the window with a scowl.

“Ha. Ha. You think you’re so funny,” you grumbled, pulling away when he tried to grasp your shoulder and shooting him an annoyed look. He reached down and took your hand in his and despite the intense desire to pull it away as well, you let him bring it up to his lips and gently kiss the back in apology.

“Ok, ok, I am sorry, really. Look, I understand why you are nervous, but really there is no reason for it. Unless you do something weird that you usually never do, there will be no problem and they will love you more than they love me.” His smile was so innocent and comforting and loving that all you could do was nod and lean over to kiss him gently.

“Can I still ask dumb ‘what if’ questions while we drive to distract myself?” You asked quietly, sounding almost like a little kid, and he just chuckled, nodding and pulling you as close as he could while both of you had your seatbelts on.

“Ok, what if when we go inside and they come to greet us, I fall flat on my face right in front of them?”

“Then they will run to help you get back up, and I will stand behind you trying to stop laughing,” he smirked cheekily so you smacked his chest lightly but smiled secretly.

“Ok, um,” you dragged out, trying to think of more crazy (but extremely possible) scenarios. “What if we get inside, and everything is going well, but then out of nowhere, I throw up all over myself and the floor?” You raised an eyebrow, challenging him to answer it, but he was laughing so hard that it took him a minute to gather enough breath to respond.

“Then my mother will probably take you upstairs to the guest bedroom and help you clean yourself up, change your clothes, tuck you into bed and take care of you like you are a sick baby. And my father and I will be downstairs cleaning up all the vomit.”

“Hmph,” and he almost laughed at the fact that you seemed upset that you hadn’t stumped him with your ridiculous question. “Ok, what if right after I walk in, a dinosaur comes out of nowhere and smashes its foot through the roof of the living room?”

Carlos just lifted an eyebrow into the air and even you had to admit that that was just crazy. Nevertheless, the questions continued for the rest of the ride.

The Alcaraz family lived in a beautiful Spanish villa that looked like what one would imagine as the perfect Mediterranean summer destination. He led you up the path to the door and then inside. As he crossed the threshold, he held the door open for you with his free hand before locking it behind himself. You could hear distant murmuring and held tighter onto the strap of your tote bag.

Since you had stepped out of the car, your heart had begun pounding like it was trying to escape your chest. Your palms were sweaty and your breaths felt shaky but Carlos didn’t give you a moment to pause and stew in your thoughts. He simply kept walking you up the path, through the door and into the house.

As both of you walked down the hallway that led into the large living room, he announced your arrival.

“Hola hola!” He hollered, “estamos aqui!” He peeked his head around the staircase and found the entire family lounging on the couches around the coffee table, scrolling on their phones or watching something mindless on the tv. They all perked up at the sound of his voice and stood up from their seats to greet the both of you.

Your heart had jumped into your throat but Carlitos kept his grip on your hand and dragged you into the living room behind him so you had no choice but to paste on a smile and fight through the sudden lack of air in your lungs.

When you guys came around the bend of the stairs into the living room, you took a deep breath as his family came to greet you. His mother pressed a kiss to his cheek quickly before shoving past him and smiling brightly at you.

“Oh, hello, darling!” She exclaimed, pulling you into a tight hug as you mumbled a ‘hello Mrs. Alcaraz in return. She brushed it off and told you to call her Virginia against your shoulder, rubbing your back before pulling away and grasping both your hands in hers, looking you over for a moment with a warm and motherly smile. “You are so beautiful! So, so, beautiful,” she told you excitedly, squeezing your hands gently as you laughed bashfully and thanked her. “Carlitos is always talking about you and we are so happy to finally meet you.” You blushed at that, glancing over to Carlos who was talking to his brothers about something. When she pulled away, she wrapped an arm around your shoulder and brought you further into the room.

Carlos’s father came up to you next, shaking your hand firmly and smiling at you as he asked if he could take your bag and put it down for you.

“Oh, that’s so sweet, thank you so much!” You exclaimed before pulling the bag off your shoulder and opening it. “But, they’re actually gifts for you,” you told them shyly, pulling out the two velvet boxes for him and Virginia. She came over and hugged you again, teasingly admonishing you for bothering to get gifts which you brushed off with a wave of the hand. “I wanted to,” you simply told her, shrugging before turning to his brothers who were now standing near you.

“Y/n, this is Alvaro,” Carlos had an arm wrapped over his older brother’s shoulder and shook him a little when he said his name. You giggled and held out your hand for him to shake, and he smiled politely in return. You handed him the box of liqueur chocolates you had brought and he smiled mischievously, nudging Carlos with his elbow.

“She knows how to make us love her, huh?” He asked teasingly before turning to face you again. “Thank you, this is very nice.”

“No problem,” you shrugged, but a joyful smile was slowly pulling on your lips as you turned to his other two brothers.

“This is Sergio, and Jaime,” Carlos introduced, and he stood behind Jaime, shaking his little shoulders until he was giggling.

You turned first to Sergio who was closer to age to you and Carlos, and gave him the little box of chocolates you had gotten specifically for him because Carlos said they were his favourite. In typical teenage boy fashion, he smiled and thanked you then moved to go stand by Alvaro. Jaime joking around with Carlos, sending fake punches into Carlos’s side who pretended to keel over in pain. You laughed at the little display before grabbing the box that had the racket grip in it and holding it out to Jaime.

“This is for you,” you said happily, waiting for him to take the box from you. He did, saying a bright ‘thank you!’ before turning it over and realising it was the grip he had asked for a few weeks ago but told to save up for. You understood that his parents were trying to help him learn financial responsibility, even with something like a tennis grip, but you hadn’t been able to help yourself. He was secretly your favourite of Carlos’s brothers simply because he was the youngest and had such a cute little babyface.

“Thank you!” He exclaimed again and gave you a quick hug. It barely lasted a few seconds before he was pulling away and going to his tennis bag under the stairs to re-grip his racket, but you were filled with a sense of triumph and a fizzing happiness that filled each of your limbs. Everything was going great.

Carlos ambled over and gently rubbed your arm, raising his eyebrows as if to say ‘see? Everything worked out just like I said,’ and you smiled in acceptance, pushing him lightly in the chest before his mother came over and guided you to sit on one of the sofas so she could ask you a million questions about your life.

Virginia and Carlitos had taken you for a tour of the house and shown you the guest room you would be staying in. Dinner afterward went amazingly as well, with everyone telling stories about Carlitos as a child that made him blush and laugh in embarrassment as you cracked up beside him. When the plates were being cleared away and everyone was moving to the sofas again for coffee and tea, you insisted on helping his mother take everything to the kitchen and aid her in washing the plates. She had told you to go sit down about ten times and even tried to physically push you out of the kitchen at one point but you refused to budge.

And as Carlitos stood in the doorway watching you smile at her and make some joke that made her chuckle, he truly felt that everything was right in the world. The entire night he felt like someone had put a filter over his eyes so everything looked rosy and warm, but it was just you. It was just your presence and you being around his family; it was just the gathering of all the people he loved the most in the world. He watched you gesture behind yourself and say something with wide eyes that made his mother bend over as she laughed hysterically, and he thought that soulmates might just be real.

#carlos alcaraz imagine #carlos alcaraz x you #carlos x you #carlos alcaraz #carlos alcaraz x reader #carlos alacaraz x reader #carlos alcaraz garfia #carlos alcaraz fanfiction #carlos alcaraz fic #tennisblr #tennis #tennis fics #tennis fanfics #tennis imagine #tennis player #atp tennis x reader #tennis x reader #meet the family #meet the family fic

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cxrrodedcoffin · 5 months ago

Text

Hair Lockets - Spencer Reid

Likes are always appreciated but reblogs and feedback keep artists going!

——

“Cut with dull scissors and tied with a ribbon, curated under the glass of my pendant”

Summary: BAU!Reader asks Spencer for a lock of his hair after a near miss and a visit to the museum.

Word Count: 1.1K, not proofread oops ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

A/N: i’m overly sentimental and a sucker for ephemera of all kinds, including the old school tradition of keeping a lock of your lover’s hair so that’s exactly what this is. also kind of an explanation for jesus reid cutting his hair? titled after and inspired by the song hair lockets by nicole dollanganger <3

if you want to learn more about the history of the art mentioned in this fic, this article is super informative!

TW: kissing, gunshot mention, mild anxiety, i think that’s it?

Rating: PG, this is all fluff baybee :)

——

When Spencer proposed the two of you visit the local art history museum on your last day in the midwestern town the latest case had brought the team to, you hesitantly agreed, though the idea of relaxing in your hotel room until your flight the next morning seemed much more appealing after the traumatic nature of the events surrounding this particular case.

Spencer had another near miss with an unsub and from the moment the bullet hit his vest your heart felt like it would tear itself apart. This man that only a year ago had been just your nerdy, know it all coworker now felt like a part of you, and the idea of losing him was almost too much to bear. He walked away with only a deep bruise, but you couldn’t help but cry yourself to sleep that night at the thought of what the alternative could have been.

Now, almost a week later, as you anxiously wait for him to get back from the class he had today, you think back to that museum trip.

The thought had embedded itself in your brain from the moment you laid eyes on the most unique piece of art you’d seen - a victorian era hair sculpture. The concept of having a piece of your loved one, something their very body had curated, with you forever touched you deeply. That is what you wanted, a piece of your lover to hold over your heart whenever you are apart.

You heard the key turn in the door, your heart thumping in your chest as you watch Spencer walk through the doorway.

“Hello my love.” He coos, giving you a tired smile.

“Hey Spence.” You reply, walking toward him, hoping he wouldn’t see the way your hands tremble.

There was no hiding your nerves though, Spencer could read you like a book. He takes your hand in his as he slips off his shoes, guiding you to the couch.

“Is something wrong?” He questions, concern lacing his gaze as he looks over your features.

“No no, I’m okay Spence, I promise. I just have something I want to ask you.” You stumble over your words, unsure if it’s worth asking at this point.

“What is it? You know you can ask me anything.” He reassures.

“You can say no, I don’t want you to feel pressured.” You waver, unable to hold eye contact any longer.

He nods, his thumb gently rubbing the back of your hand.

“I was wondering if you would be willing to let me cut a small lock of your hair, t-to keep in my locket so you’re always with me. I know it’s weird but that sculpture we saw at the museum just stuck with me.” You ramble, your gaze fixed on your lap.

Spencer slips his fingers under your chin, gently raising your head to look you in the eyes.

“You know, keeping locks of hair is actually a practice that dates back centuries, even before the victorian era. It was common for families to use locks of hair from one or many family members to weave intricate sculptures as a mourning ritual in some cultures and to create family heirlooms in others. In recent time, during wartime it was common practice for soldiers to present a lock of their hair to their lovers as a forget-me-not. The sentiment is a sign of love, I’m honored you want to keep a piece of me with you.” His voice is calm, unwavering, somehow knowing exactly what to say to calm your nerves.

He squeezes your hand one last time, standing and telling you to stay where you are before disappearing into the next room.

A moment later he comes back, scissors and spool of ribbon in hand. He hands you the items before sitting cross-legged on the couch, turning to face you.

“Take whatever your heart desires.” He smiles, shaking his hair out.

“You know I could just chop off a giant chunk of hair, you’re putting a lot of faith in me right now.” You giggle, jokingly holding the scissors higher than you intend to cut.

“Maybe that wouldn’t be such a bad thing, Morgan called be Jesus the other day.” He sighs.

“How about I take you to a barber after this, I don’t want you to end up bald if I make the wrong move.” You joke.

“It’s a deal.” He nods, smiling at you once more.

You choose a piece behind his ear, tying it off with the ribbon before snipping off an inch. You hold it for a second, feeling the soft locks against your palm.

It’s quiet as Spencer observes you. He’s never seen you so sentimental before, but he’s surprisingly comfortable with it. You’re unlike anyone he’s ever known, so strong willed yet full of boundless love for those who are important to you.

You place the lock inside the locket around your neck, rubbing the cold metal between your fingertips for a moment.

You look up at Spencer before leaning in to gently kiss him on the cheek.

“Thank you.” You sigh.

“Of course angel.” He responds, turning your face to give you a proper kiss.

After a moment you smile against his lips, pulling away to pull him off the couch.

“Time for a haircut, Jesus. Oops, I mean genius.” You laugh, headed towards the door.

“Not too short though, I like when you run your fingers through it.” He smirks, making you blush.

You can’t help but hope you’ll get to grow old and grey with him and have the privilege to look back on this day in the future and know you’ll always hold a piece of Spencer Reid with you forever.

——

“Pretty strands that grew in your youth, pieces that I’ll always hold on to.”

——

Taglist: DM me or send me an ask if you’d like to be added to my taglist :)

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #mine #my writing #matthew gray gubler #mgg #nicole dollanganger #hair lockets #jesus reid

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yayakoishii · 1 year ago

Note

Hello love! I saw your post asking for Sanji requests and as a die hard lover of both the anime and live action Sanji, I'll happily provide.

The crew ends up docking at a random island to rest and stay a bit on solid ground. When looking for a place to stay/eat they come across the readers restraunt. Just as they're about to walk in a customer gets thrown out the front door with the reader angrily yelling about manners and how to treat people respectfully.

The readers a cook, a little short tempered, loud, and unapologetically themselves and Sanji instantly falls in love.

Alright alright I'm done now ~ 🍄🐛��

Respect | Sanji x Reader

Fandom: One Piece

Pairing: Vinsmoke Sanji × Reader

Word Count: 1.9k

Genre: Fluff??

A/n: Hey there anon!! I'm super late, but I hope you're still around to see this <3 tbh, this isn't my best work and I feel like it got a little ooc and derailed a bit towards the end but I hope you enjoy it! for all my short temper, I have no idea how to write an angry little gremlin lol.

To everyone else, thank you for the 100 followers and all the likes and comments!! This is insane tbh, I wasn't expecting anything on any of my works 😭 Y'all are too kind ❤️

also available on ao3!

The island they had docked on wasn't all that big, but the people there were lively. There weren't many hotels they could find since the town wasn't all that big, and any that they found were already filled to the brim. Finally after walking around for a while, they found a small tavern quite a ways from the shore. It seemed to be a little lively because there were sounds coming from the inside but it seemed to not be so full that they couldn't grab a table.

As they neared the door of the establishment, it suddenly banged open and two men fell through, looking a little roughed up and angry. The crew lingered at a distance, wondering what was going on when you came out, your chef's hat perfectly atop your head, with your hands on your hips.

"I better not see you around here ever again!" You snapped at the two, who flinched ever so slightly. "If you lack manners, that's YOUR problem. You can't take it out on my girls and expect me to treat you like the valued customers you are not."

The two sat up and glared at you, ready to retort but you raised the pan in your hand, waving it in front of their faces.

"Scram, unless you want me to burn your face," you finished calmly. That was enough. The two immediately scrambled up and ran into the distance. You huffed and blew away the lock of hair that had slipped out of your hat. You were about to turn around and go back in when you noticed the group standing there. "What?"

"Oh, um, we were looking for a place to eat?" Chopper felt the need to answer because you were staring at him. (You were a little curious and didn't mean to stare but that was hard when the group was full of… unique characters.)

"Well, a table just got empty so help yourself in," you grumbled, jerking your thumb to beckon them inside. The crew silently followed you in, to find that your tavern was mostly full too but the people were more calm and the ruckus of the other hotels was missing. "Oh yeah. Before you settle in, you should know the one rule of my establishment."

You narrowed your eyes at them. "You treat any of my girls with anything less than respect and you'll be thrown out like those two. Capisce?"

The crew just nodded, too hungry to actually bother with anything else but Sanji couldn't help but find you absolutely charming. It was common to find people who bent and let their customers do whatever for the sake of business, but you were protective of your employees and you didn't care about being a fake sort of nice. He watched you stalk back to where the food was being cooked, responding nicely to the customers asking if all was good. You were nice where it mattered, and unapologetically yourself if your values were threatened. It was all too easy to find you like a breath of fresh air.

That wasn't even what did it, though. For Sanji, what did it was the moment one of your waitresses had come back with the food they had ordered and he had tasted the dish he had watched you prepare with the ease and expertise of someone who clearly loved and lived for their profession. One bite and he nearly moaned there, masking it under a hum of appreciation.

Even Luffy was looking at the food star eyed and his speed in sucking up the food somehow increased. Sanji tried to not do the same, wanting to savour the taste as long as he could but it was clear that if he took too long, Luffy would have finished it all by then.

The hotel was nearly empty by the time they were done and they were one of the only customers still remaining. Sanji was sure it was dark enough outside that they would need light to make their way back to the ship. You were finishing off, calling out orders for the girls who were starting to clear up. You caught his eye and Sanji couldn't look away, mesmerised by the sight of you removing your hat and shaking your hair free. You were gorgeous, a good cook, and had the personality of a firework. He had to do something–

"Let's take her with us!" Luffy announced suddenly, banging his hand on the table. Everyone startled and Sanji stared at him as if he has grown two heads.

"Uh Luffy, that's kidnapping–" Nami's words died out the moment she noticed you walking up to their table.

"Hey there," you gave them all a small smile. "Will you guys be needing anything else or should I draw up the bill? I'm afraid it's getting close to closing time."

"Come with us!!" Luffy grinned. You paused and looked at him weirdly.

"Sorry?" You said.

"What he means, mademoiselle," Sanji intervened, giving you the most charming smile he had, "is that your food was absolutely delicious. Our captain would like to have you onboard as a chef."

You were silent, staring at them all with a blank look, until you finally looked at Sanji. Your gaze made him putty but he tried to remain firm.

"You don't have a cook or something?" You smiled, a little amused.

"Sanji is the cook!" Luffy answered, pointing a finger at the blonde man, who was too busy giving you googly eyes to answer. You cocked an eyebrow at that, looking at the said man.

"And you don't mind another chef invading your territory?" You asked, curious. The crew didn't seem to be more than the people in your hotel. There really didn't seem to be any need for an extra chef to you; and anyway, you were happy with your little hole in the wall place. You were just asking because you were curious, not because you actually planned to join them.

"If it's you, you can invade any space of mine, my lady," Sanji's eyes had turned into hearts as he uttered the words. Nami whacked him on the head, worried he would freak you out but that earned him a loud laugh from you.

"You're funny," you grinned, looking back at Luffy with an apologetic smile. "Unfortunately, I'm happy where I am. Thanks for the offer but I can't. Now, are you gonna pay up or…?"

Luffy looked like he was going to protest but Usopp held him back. Nami grumbled as she pulled out the pouch of money to pay off their bill and yet all Sanji could think of was begging you to join them. He didn't need another person to cook; he was quite enough. But you, with all your loud beauty, were like a sparkling gem he would never find again. He wanted to have you, to know you, to know all your little quirks and interests. He wanted to cook beside you and fall in love– with cooking and with you, all over again.

The crew started to make their way out but Sanji lingered back, making his way towards you. You noticed and gave him a smile, noting that he really was handsome when he wasn't all heart eyed and half a puddle.

"Is there any way I can change your mind?" He blurted out, feeling his insides shake in anticipation.

"I don't know," you teased, suddenly starting to contemplate if it wouldn't be such a bad idea. You had always wanted to travel, to cook for all kinds of people with all kinds of ingredients; you just never could and had to make do with a small hotel on a small island. Wasn't this a chance to make your dreams come true? "What can you do to convince me?"

"Anything you want from me, mademoiselle," he said breathlessly, gently picking up your hand to press a soft kiss on the back of it. Your heart fluttered at the action, and you flushed. No one had ever treated you like this, like you were something delicate and priceless and every moment you looked in Sanji's eyes made you feel like you were about to be set on fire.

"W- Well," you stuttered, feeling like you had lost control, "how about you help with the dishes then?"

Surely he would not agree to that. This was just a game, and it was time he would back out. You would go back to your little place, and he would go back to his ship. There was no way he would be okay with–

"Is that all it takes, my lady?" The light purr in his voice made your cheeks feel warm.

"N- no, it's just the start," you turned away from him, trying to hide the blush rising up your cheeks. He was far too good looking to be paying you so intense attention and there was something about him that was capturing your heart, tempting it to agree to his words. If you left your girls behind, who would take care of them? All those men who treated them like they were dolls on display would not just disappear the moment you left the island. You couldn't leave them…

"Then, show me the way," he smiled at you, all perfect white teeth shining under the golden lights of your hotel. You just pointed him to the tower of dishes that his own crew had left behind and watched a little astonished as he really started to wash them.

"He's certainly one of a kind," your fellow cook and friend nudged you as she spoke. You couldn't look away from him as you answered her.

"I don't know what it is about him, but whenever he looks at me, I feel…" You abruptly cut off, feeling embarrassed. "Nothing!"

"You feel nothing?" You friend teased, "That blush on your cheeks doesn't look like nothing to me~"

"Shut up," you growled, hackles raised at the teasing. You never fared well with being teased or flirted with, and unfortunately, it seemed the blonde man– Sanji, his captain had called him, you remembered –was exactly of the latter type. He was no good for you, right?

"I don't know," your friend sighed, drawing up a sad smile as she looked at you. "I know your dream. Even if you don't feel anything for him, I know their offer is a chance for you. Why don't you just take it?"

"I can't leave you all behind," you murmured, heart paining at the thought of ditching them just for your dreams. "If I'm not here, what if–"

"Nothing's gonna happen," your friend interrupted you. "Come on, we aren't no weaklings. And I'm here, aren't I? I'll make sure everyone is safe and taken care of. So don't worry about us and go get your man– I mean, go fulfil your dreams."

You whacked her arm at the teasing, smiling genuinely as you watched Sanji finish off the dishes already. He was so fast, and you couldn't help but feel silly for finding that sexy. Competence and confidence was always sexy.

"Alright," you mumbled to yourself. "I'll do it. But, I think I'll take my time. I did say this is just the start."

Your friend raised an eyebrow at your amused smile. Sanji waved at you to indicate that he was done and you waved back, starting to make your way to him.

"It's more fun this way, isn't it?"

°•❀•°

#one piece #one piece imagines #one piece fanfic #one piece x reader #one piece sanji #op sanji #vinsmoke sanji #vinsmoke sanji x reader #sanji x reader #black leg sanji #short fic

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comfortcomes · 3 months ago

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i said i would make an actual post about this and my irls are sick of me talking about it on ig i’m sure but i do think it’s really really important that people know how much abortion funds are struggling rn on both the local and national levels. after the dobbs decision in 2022 there was a huge surge in donations to ab funds and a lot of them were able to expand their budgets as a result which was amazing. but that money is gone now, it is not being replenished on anywhere near the same level, and abortion access is MUCH more expensive than it was two years ago. these funds don’t just pay for abortion procedures (the cost of which has also gone up btw), they also provide direct support for flights, gas, hotels, because for people living in half the states in the US these are now crucial factors in their ability to access reproductive healthcare. the two biggest national funds (NAF and planned parenthood) have both capped their assistance for individual callers because of the demand, which in turn puts even more strain on local funds to close that gap. so basically if you’re trying to get an abortion as a US citizen today there’s no guarantee you’ll legally be able to in your state, the procedure will be more expensive and it’ll be harder to get an appointment than it was two years ago, and despite you paying what could easily be thousands of dollars to access essential healthcare, where you could have been fully funded by NAF in 2022, these orgs are now only able to pledge 30% of your total cost. funds in my state that have monthly budgets in the tens of thousands are having to close their helplines after two hours every week because of the insane amount of need. granted i live in a state that experiences unique demand as the first access point for many people living in southern states with abortion bans, but we’re not at all unique in the inability to keep up with the amount of people seeking help.

if you gave money to your local abortion fund when dobbs dropped, i guarantee no matter where it is that fund is now overwhelmed with far more demand and much less money than they had in 2022. and abortion funds are some of the only organizations you can donate to and be absolutely certain your money is going directly to people who need it—we’re a very small org but at the last budget meeting for my local fund we literally had less than $30 allocated for anything other than abortion support the entire fiscal year. two years ago people were giving “rage donations” in anger about the future injustices that would happen when abortion bans became widespread, but those things actually ARE happening NOW and there’s a really simple way you can make a small dent in a massive national crisis and it’s by becoming a recurring donor or volunteering for the abortion fund near you. as a country we’ve decided to just accept that women don’t have the right to full bodily autonomy in half of the US but you don’t actually have to accept it, you can stop numbing yourself to the grief you experienced about the end of roe v wade and contribute materially to slowly building that right back up again. and these are the places that are doing that: https://abortionfunds.org/find-a-fund/ and they really need your money

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frenchkisstheabyss · 1 year ago

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7 Psychopaths: Lee Know

x Summary: You are X, a seasoned assassin, and your boss has just assigned you an unusual task. You have two weeks to gather six men for a top-secret mission that requires their unique brand of psychopathy. The trick is, you've got romantic history with all of them.

A detail that might make this a walk in the park or the fight of your life. Time to find out...

x Pairing: assassin!lee know x assassin!chubby!fem!reader

x Genre: angst/crime au/smut

x Word Count: 1.8k-ish

x Warnings: blood, violence, fighting, knives, guns, disposable mob goon deaths, unprotected sex, fingering, mirror sex, hair pulling, lino is a lil obsessed with you, the strongest of language

x A/N: This is #2 in a series of 6 stories featuring two members from TXT, two from ATEEZ, and two from Stray Kids. They all follow the same theme and can be read chronologically or you can jump around. I support the chaos.

Previous Psychopath: Yeonjun | Next Psychopath: Wooyoung

Downstairs in the lobby of the Hotel Artemis the Innkeeper sits behind the check-in desk face down in a pool of his own blood. If someone were to lift his head up, the mangled flesh swimming around might resemble crushed raspberries. Their daily serving of fruit courtesy of you. But no one will lift his head up. They’ll all mind their business because that’s what you do here. You step around his body and grab your fucking key before you end up just like him or worse. He’ll wake up eventually. Probably.

Stepping into the surprisingly well-kept elevator, you press the button for the top floor, adjusting the garter belt beneath your dress as the doors close on the empty lobby. This is no time to admire architecture but you can’t help yourself. The Romanesque style interior is breathtaking, much nicer than the deathtraps you’ve found yourself in trying to track down the Black Cat. Some might call it lucky that Minho’s petty streak led him to the penthouse suite of the Artemis, right down the street from where your hotel is.

Watching the numbers light up one after the other as the elevator ascends, you’re shocked when it comes to a stop at the 6th floor, 14 floors short of your destination. You step back, wedging yourself in a corner, and fish your headphones out of your purse. Your music’s on before the bell dings, doors sliding open to let half a dozen goons file in. Italian mob. Dressed in all black. Cocky. Faces still healing from their last brawl. Half of them smile at you, nodding, politely admiring the way your dress hugs your curves, gawking at your flawlessly applied makeup.

You smile back and they turn away, eliminating you as a threat. Stealthy glances around the elevator reveal the guns tucked into their waistbands. The Big One, twice your size in every way, has a set of brass knuckles on his callused hands. Gold plated. Fancy. “Excuse me, gentlemen” you sing, maneuvering through them with the grace of a proper lady. They part the sea for you, unknowingly clearing a path to the control panel. “Getting off already, beautiful?” “Mmm'' you sigh, a manicured nail hovering near the bright red EMERGENCY STOP button, “Not yet.” Your fist slams down on the button, bringing 6,000 pounds of metal to a screeching halt.

Minho studies the 16th-century Turkish vase on display in the lavish, and utterly destroyed, penthouse of the Golden Child, a pretty boy whose mob boss daddy provides him with enough money to blow on all the cocaine, strippers, and obnoxiously expensive art he can get his hands on. “Don’t you touch it!” the Golden Child screams, spitting loose teeth and blood onto his bear skin rug. Minho pops open the glass display case that houses the vase and an assortment of other highly fragile artifacts. “Don’t touch what?” he asks, winding up the scarlet splattered golf club he used to lay ruin to the apartment and its inhabitant, “This?”

“I said no!” Minho chews at the inside of his lip, pretending to be unsure of his next move when he knows exactly what he’s about to do. The head of the club shatters the priceless vase into a thousand pieces, shards of ceramics and glass flying through the air as he dishes out swing after spiteful swing to those poor, innocent historical treasures. The Golden Child grabs onto the arm of his white leather couch, attempting to push himself up but broken ribs send him tumbling back down. “You’re out of your fucking mind!” he curses, “All because I spilled a drink on you? I said, ‘My bad!”

Winded, Minho tosses the golf club across the room, grinning to himself as he notices a leaking cut on his hand. “My bad?” he laughs, “My bad?” It disgusts him, the smugness of people who think they can run around doing anything they want to anyone they want. Poor manners, that is. His parents should’ve taught him better but that’s what Minho’s here for. Charging across the room, he grabs the Golden child by the collar of his soft cotton robe and hammers his head onto the floor. “My bad is not ‘Sorry!’”

Minho bashes his fist into the man’s jaw, the brute force of the blow knocking another molar loose, “Say sorry!” “Eat shit.” “What?” Minho snaps, positive his ears are deceiving him. The Golden Child smiles up at him, arrogant and entitled even in his battered state, “Eat shit. My dad keeps tabs on me 24/7. He’s probably sending some guys up here right now and when they get here? You're dead.” Grabbing the belt barely hanging onto the man’s robe, Minho twists it around his neck, depriving him of air.

“I guess I’ll see you on the other side then, huh?” Minho doesn’t blink, not even once, as the color drains from the Golden Child’s eyes, bone splintering, his windpipe crumbling just as easily as his precious vases. Saying sorry really couldn’t have been that hard.

“There’s nowhere to run, little one” taunts the Big One, trying and failing not to trip over the corpses of his friends. Your chest hurts like hell. The others were easy, so shit with their aim that only one bullet in 20 clips had even managed to skim your thigh. But this one? He won’t go down. Squared up against him, the knife from your torn garter clenched in your fist, you know you can’t let him hit you again. Another blow to the chest and you’re done for. “Who’s running, big boy? Let’s get it.” Tapping the EMERGENCY STOP button again, the elevator whirls back into action.

The Big One charges at you, swinging wildly. You duck, rolling through the bodies and slicing open the back of his left leg. The bell dings on every floor like the start of a boxing match. The Big One punches one of the walls, denting the metal. So much for pristine architecture. As he reels from the hit, you jump on his back, jabbing the knife into his chest from behind. The bell dings for a final time on the 20th floor. Biting down on your arm, he flips you over his shoulder, slamming you down onto the floor, knocking the air out of you.

The doors creak open as he raises his foot to stomp a steel toe boot down on your chest. Bang! A bullet barrels through his skull. The titan stumbles, his brain quite literally scrambled. Bang! Bang! Two more shots and he’s slumped on the ground with his friends where he belongs. Reunited at last. “Who’s your new boyfriend?” Minho teases from the hallway, tossing the gun to the ground. “You’re welcome!” you groan, flipping him off. He hops onto the elevator, pressing the button for the lobby. “Thank you,” he says, sweetly, grateful for your help and your presence.

Taking you into his arms, he props you up in the corner, checking you for injuries. “What is this?” You flinch when he brushes a tender spot on your head, “You tell me. You’re the one with the mob after you.” “No, I mean, what are you doing here?” “Oh, uh, boss sent me to get you” you stutter, the entire reason for your arrival in Rome having shifted to the back of your mind until now.

“We need you.”

“Where?”

“Berlin.”

“When?”

“Next week.”

“Okay, if…”

You whine when he caresses your thigh, checking the severity of the bullet wound. “If what?” “If you let me take care of you” he winks. “Take care of me? Why’d you say it like that?” Minho rips a long strip of material from the shirt of a nameless corpse and secures it around your thigh to stop the bleeding. He kisses your thigh, suckling softly at the tender flesh to distract you from the pain. Ding! First floor. The doors open to the lobby and he takes you by the hand, “Let me show you.”

Taking care of you. When you say that in this line of business, it’s never a good thing but Minho had no intentions of cutting your life short. The only thing on his mind was carrying you back to your hotel, running you a nice bath, and dressing your wounds. “All better?” he asks, his breath tickling your neck as he plays with your clit. This was a part of the plan too, getting you in his lap, his naked body reunited with yours after months apart. From this position on the edge of the bed, you can see your reflection clearly. Your plush breast bounces in one of his hands while the fingers of the other spread your lips wide enough to fully expose your clit.

With your legs dangling across his, follow your cream as it trickles down the base of his cock. There’s nothing fast or rough about the way he lifts his hips to fill you. The slight curve of his cock makes you stutter each time he disappears into your pulsing warmth. “All---ah---b-b-better.” “B-b-better?” he mocks, his fingers working faster against your clit. You reach back to cup his face, scratching him the slightest bit as punishment for being a smartass. The pain only makes him want you more. His cock is as hard and smooth as polished marble, leaking precum into your needy pussy.

Minho watches you in the mirror, admiring your reflection, entranced by how the beauty of your face and the plumpness of your figure could make him put a bullet through the skull of a man who even dared to look at you wrong. “Take over for me” he whispers, guiding your hand between your legs, his fingers moving on top of yours to splash in the audible wetness of your pussy. You pick up a rhythm together, one that has your breath growing ragged and your stomach in a frenzy. With his hand now free, he brushes your hair out of your face, tilting your head to the side to kiss you.

His tongue ventures as far down your throat as it can go, devouring your moans. Bouncing you in his lap at a quicker pace, still careful not to hurt you, he caresses your body, greedy to claim you as his like you were meant to be from the start. The argument that broke you up. That stupid fucking argument. He doesn’t even remember what it was about anymore and he doesn’t care. Because you’re in his lap, your back arching against his chest, sloppily playing with your own aching bud, biting on his lip while you whimper his name. Your pulse races, your hand reaching back to grip his hair for stability.

“Mmhmm, pull my fucking hair and cum for me” he urges, “Cum for me angel.” Your tongue lashes at his, his words making you burst. “Minho! Aah, baby!” you cry, pulling his hair harder as your orgasm deepens. Minho rests his head on your shoulder. Watching you cum is like performance art. “I don’t care about anyone else. Just promise you’ll never leave me again.” Your glossy eyes meet his in the mirror, “I promise.” “You mean it?” “I mean it.”

And you do mean it. You have to. Because, with the hell that awaits you in Germany, sweet reunions like this might end up being your last.

#lee know x you #lee know x reader #lee know x y/n #lee know angst #lee know smut #stray kids au #stray kids x female reader #stray kids x chubby reader #stray kids angst #stray kids x reader #stray kids smut #chubby reader #plus size reader

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genderlessdude92 · 5 months ago

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. . .

⋆⁺₊❅.⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙*̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆⁺₊❅. •̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙*̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ⁺₊❅.⋆꙳

⭑ ๋ ⊹ ࣭ Lynn’s/Genderlessdude92's masterlist !! ⊹ ๋࣭ ⭑

⋆⁺₊❅.⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙*̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆⁺₊❅. •̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙*̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ⁺₊❅.⋆꙳

. . .

･ﾟ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･⚬•・✦⋆°☽

☆♪..°.CALL OF DUTY.°..♪☆

･ﾟ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･⚬•・✦⋆°☽

┃𖦹 I’M OKAY

SUMMARY: Ghost has came back from a harsh mission, most likely beaten to the core, and his S/o arrives worried sick. But, Simon can reassure her that everything will be alright.

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

･ﾟ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･⚬•・✦⋆°☽

☆♪..°.HAZBIN.°..♪☆

･ﾟ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･⚬•・✦⋆°☽

┃𖦹 THE BREAKING POINT

♪ SUMMARY: Y/N is a diligent worker, much to the chagrin of her partner, Alastor. Despite his efforts to get her to stop for both their sakes, Y/N remains steadfast in her duties. However, Alastor finds a loophole to this situation.

—————————

┃𖦹 HOLD ME AGAIN

♪ SUMMARY: Alastor has been neglecting you ever since you guys had a fight. It gets to you. (MAJOR ANGST/MAJOR FLUFF)

———————————

┃𖦹 Alastor x Reader who hates men

♪ANON ASK: “hai :3 can you do alastor with a s/o who is annoyed by men but she sees him and is like "but you're okay" because he's not a brute. it's like wow they're both mean to everyone except each other <3”

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┃𖦹 GENTLE, PLEASE!

♪SUMMARY: Y/N, like the nervous wreck she is, can’t stop spending her free time worrying over something that’s not even a big deal. Of course, one thing lead to another. (Thank you, Charlie, for letting them have the day off).

———————————

┃𖦹 FORGIVENESS

♪SUMMARY: Alastor's work at the Hazbin Hotel keeps him preoccupied, leading to neglect in his relationship with Y/N. An argument later on arises, causing both to confront their feelings. Ultimately, they reconcile, promising to communicate better in the future. The story emphasizes the importance of understanding and communication in relationships.

———————————

┃𖦹 A CLEAN MIND (First Part)

♪SUMMARY: After a long night of doing Lucifer’s Tango with the infamous Radio Demon, limbs sore to the brim, Alastor decides that it’s best to give his darling some proper aftercare. Of course one thing had led to another, but what would they do once they were caught in the net with a knock on the door?

———————————

┃𖦹 AL, VOX, VAL, & LUCI WITH THEIR BIOLOGICAL CHILD

♪ANON ASK: “Hi, I really love your work! If your requests are open and if it's allowed, can I request for headcanons of Vox/Val/Alastor/Lucifer with their biological baby w reader?? I'm sorry if this is weird I just die for family dynamics😭😭 like, how would they act, would they be present or neglectful, and that stuff!! Ik it's impossible to have a child in hell but HEY. ITS FICTIONAL. It's really your decision if this is super fluff or super angst, but personally I believe it would be angst because it's hell and they are really famous 😭 THANKU”

———————————

┃𖦹 PRECIOUS

♪SUMMARY: You and Alastor get into a fight because you’re just worried he got hurt after a fight with Vox. He snaps at you and…well, you isolate yourself. whoopsies!

———————————

┃𖦹 STICKS AND STONES

SUMMARY: Y/N is shaken when Vox mocks her on live television with rude comments and even exposing her secret relationship with Alastor, too. Struggling with self-doubt, she feels inadequate in Hell's power-driven society. Alastor comforts her, emphasizing her unique qualities and their deep connection, helping her find solace despite the lingering hurt from Vox's comments.

———————————

┃𖦹 IT’S OKAY TO NOT BE OKAY

SUMMARY: In a tranquil meadow near Cannibal Town, Alastor, the Radio Demon, returns to the sanctuary he shares with his beloved y/n, seeking solace from his chaotic life. Upon finding y/n in a state of distress and in the middle of harming herself, he realizes the depth of her pain and the hidden struggles she's been enduring. Through gentle support and heartfelt conversations, Alastor reassures y/n of his unwavering love and commitment, promising to face their challenges together.

———————————

┃𖦹 I’M ALL YOURS

SUMMARY: Alastor and his S/O face the intensity of rut season together, with y/n offering her support and revealing her innocence. (Yup, you’re a virgin in this). Despite initial apprehensions, their passion culminates in a deeply intimate experiemce, as well as a night to remember.

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

Requests are always open! Notes, Comments, and are logs are appreciated! All writings belong to @l4zyb0n35 and @genderlessdude92

#alastor x reader #alastor smut #hazbin hotel x reader #angel dust x reader

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anna-scribbles · 2 years ago

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hey anna! the wait for kwami’s choice part 2 truly is abysmal and it’s so hard to navigate through the tag with all the leaks about, do you have any fic recs to tide us over until gloob puts us out of our misery?

not only do I have fic recs, I also have way too much to do rn and therefore will spend an inordinate amount of time crafting a detailed rec list for you 😘 (we can also just consider this my 2022 ao3 wrapped lol)

goes without saying perhaps, but ANYTHING by @peachcitt is gold and also uniquely devastating, some of my particular favorites being:

metamorphosis - 97k, enemies, sleepovers, you get it. i'm normal

those benevolent stars - 23k, ladrien thief/prince/soulmates au. what more do I even need to say

chat noir's white french man hit list for feminist purposes - 7k, hilarious and devastating, this fic is a child to me

double dare - 32k, ladrien, absolutely everything. cemented my friendship w/ peach bc I had to scream at her everyday abt it

I thought the plane was going down - 11k, attuned to my tastes specifically, adrinette having a History while on airplanes

@carpisuns also puts out banger after banger like it's her dayjob, specializing in understanding the ridiculous nature of the lovesquare to such a degree and also being the funniest person alive. some of my faves from her are:

tell me something I don't know - 120k, the marichat fic EVER, mar's dissertation on lovesquare and guess what she's right

pink - 14k wip, adrien loves marinette, SOFT

two idiots and a hamster (collab with @botherkupo) - 24k, adrinette roommates, makes me cry laugh

@picayunearts is a goddess on earth. she bends word and image flawlessly to her will. recently she has enraptured me with

final girl - 41k, marichat, au where marinette succeeds in giving up her miraculous to alya in origins. INCREDIBLE marinette character study

@rosekasa invented ladynoir and i'm not afraid to say it. check out everything on her ao3 but just note the following

when things were good - 15k wip, breakup fic/post hawkmoth takedown, has been ruining me in a SPECIAL way

new marinette 12k, post-guardianship memory loss marinette, a classic

like poles of a magnet - 12k, enemies au, hurts my feelings

ya'aburnee - 13k, ladynoir, HURTS ME VERY MUCH. I'VE NOT RECOVERED

@buggachat's fics always feel like i'm attending a course on adrien and marinette's true characterizations explained to me by someone with a PhD in lovesquare and I walk away enlightened. she has an incredible gift for storytelling and just Getting It. anyway read

maintaining a professional distance - 43k, ladynoir hotel room shenanigans, god-tier characterization

when you're near 10k, ladynoir dating but adrinette have never met, a classic

@sha-nwa should honestly quit her career and write lovesquare fanfiction for me full time. proof:

the way I loved you - 68k, marichat break up fic, will be cemented into my mind forever

photograph - 1k, sweet adrinette, abby loves making me cry

things WOULD be amiss if I did not mention @officialratprince (carolinaa on ao3) bc their fics derailed my homework schedule on several occasions last semester, though I'll be honest that their fics are not for the faint of heart or those who wish adrien agreste to have a good time. my faves are

I will take it / it can't go wrong series - 3 fics at 16k, 25k, and 39k, adrien's journey through experiencing child abuse and his friends being there for him, culminating in gabriel's court trial

home sick - 14k wip, adrien gets pneumonia and Everything Is Really Bad

other various fics I love for various reasons:

how hawkmoth got his groove back series by @agrestenoir - 2 fics at 3k and 1k, one of my favorite crack fics i read last year. had me crying laughing

1 step forward, 3 steps back by agnes writes - 10k, breaks my heart every time I read it. also makes me legitimately angry at adrien while still keeping him in character which is a feat in and of itself

the last day on earth by reiaji - 10k, chat blanc keeps happening as marinette gets older, I am incapable of not recommending this fic

okay now go forth and don't do your work<3

#such a struggle for me to hold back and not just list every single one of everyone's fics.#looking at this list I realiize that I in fact read a lot of fanfiction #I cant even find it within myself to feel cringe about it bc these are all legitimately so GOOD #ml #miraculous ladybug #ml fic rec #mlb fic rec #anna rambles #asks

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dummie-writes · 7 months ago

Text

the party walkers

self insert .✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* school bus graveyard

words: 2.21k

next part: a rescue mission

note: hot minute, hey guys, this is my first time writing for school bus graveyard! currently, it's probably my favorite webtoon (that being said, all my other favorites are on hiatus, so, yk. that's that.) if you followed me for genshin one shots, I just wanna let you know I'm NOT gonna stop writing them, permanently at least. I haven't been able to fixate on genshin for a bit because the app is too big for my phone and trying to play on my computer kills me inside. hope you enjoy, also things prooobably aren't gonna be perfect, lol, I'm going off memory of the first chapter/s

content: self insert for sbc, uh, go read that first, I don't think I'll end up including anything (at least, not here) that needs extra trigger warnings. long term, it's a tyler x reader, maybe, idk, but regardless I don't plan on starting that for a bit.

i. a demon inside of my skin

you hadn't been in "the room where it happened", so to speak. actually, you didn't know what everyone else was dealing with for about a week after savannah, because you thought you were having batshit crazy nightmares! your hotel room was a good bit further away from everyone else's that first night, and after making a run for it into a room and barricading yourself in, you thought that would be the end of it. everyone did, didn't they?

and then, you went home. warm bed, soft blanket, box fan running in the background while you scrolled through various social media apps. it was nearing midnight, but that wasn't new for you. the early morning hours were your friend, the moon a sibling by your teenage years. not unique, sure, but that was the reality of that situation. a small shiver tickles your spine as you remember the night mare last night brought you, your fingertips ghosting the spot on your knuckle where you had banged it and broken your finger in that dream. it was even sore when you woke up. sometimes, nightmares were like that though. sometimes people woke up gasping for air after drowning in their sleep, or craving cigars after being a smoker in their dreams. sore knuckles weren't that far off.

it was like a flash; one moment, you were watching a college aged blonde talk about the type of oils she used for her long, silky, soft hair, and the next, the sky from out your window was a bleeding carmine. there was a loud silence, no wind, no rain, no box fan or phone.

then, again, you heard it. click, click, click. chatter, chatter, chatter. okay. cool. another nightmare. fun and fantastic.

shooting out of your sheets, your index finger throbbed, sparing a second and glancing at it revealed purple spots upon green bruises splotched along your hand. curling your finger inward hurt, but was possible. making a fist around your blanket, you threw it as hard as possible off of you, hoping to distract whatever was making the noise. it did not have the desired affect, and flew a couple feet before expanding and landing softly on the floor. that didn't matter, you were already on your feet and they were thudding to your door before you were aware of what was going on, scrambling on the carpet of your bedroom as you heard skitter like movements from where your eyes couldn't catch the gray, uncanny human-like figure making its way toward you on all fours. it was fast. way, way too fast. the undignified squeal you released as you yanked open your door turned into a gravelly scream of both terror and agony when you slid through, slamming the door shut before you, a blackened finger along with it. it didn't fall to the floor, but instead was hanging painfully out of your back, right under your shoulder blade. like a when a plank of wood splinters, but has enough fibers to hang off and out of the main piece and bobs back and forth. except you're not a piece of wood, and you have to not scream right now.

you feel nausea drinking its way into your chest, but adrenaline pushes it to a back burner as a need to survive pulses in your brain. grabbing a random shoe, a picture frame from off the wall, and a small ball which were left on the floor earlier, you throw them in another direction and hope it sounds enough like footsteps that when you get into the bathroom, whatever that thing is doesn't try to follow you in there.

the balls of your feet aren't much quieter than your whole foot, but they'll have to do as you nearly slam the bathroom door, stop yourself in the knick of time to edge it closed instead, and lock it. for the first time in your entire life, you internally thank your parents that you didn't get that house with the skylight in the bathroom.

now, you hold your breath. the creaking of the floors beneath your cheap carpet tells you that that thing, that monster, that whatever-it-is, is passing by. your fingers shake as you cover your mouth with one hand, the other cupping your nose as you try desperately to slow and quiet your breathing. unfortunately, the racing of your heart isn't helping, and neither is the recognition of that wound that craved up your back so nicely. again, your stomach turns. you don't have time to deal with that right now, even if you can feel blood dripping down your back and throbbing which matches your heartbeat.

click, click, thump, thump. the shadow from the light outside darkens, two fuzzy shadows before the door. silence. praying.

click, click. click. it slowly, slowly, drags its hideous feet away from the door.

you can't breathe for another minute, and the instant you do, it comes out as a heave. your eyes go wide as you scramble toward the bathtub, making it just in time to spill your guts. after emptying your stomach, you pull away with watery eyes and a raw throat, coughing a couple times. you feel a little bit better, as you usually do after throwing up, but that won't last. also, you need water, and that means looking in the mirror if you don't wanna be loud. but for right now, you just need to lay down for a moment. just breathe. you're so, so light headed. you had only just woken up, and this all felt so real. the pain in your hand and in your back. the scratchy stinging you feel up your esophagus. the exhaustion pawing under your eyes as you start to lean backward;

except, you can't, and when you try that, you only shoot straight up and nearly puke all over again. thankfully, this time, the finger actually falls out of your back.

"��𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵. 𝘐 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘶𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵, 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘯."

you can reach the majority of the wound if you really reach. it won't be perfect, but you should be able to get it properly clean and bandaged with the first aid kit your family keeps in the bathroom. you don't really know how to clean a wound this big, though. will you need stitches? the only real way to know is to look at it, even if you aren't really ready to do so.

"𝘸𝘩𝘺 𝘢𝘮 𝘐 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴? 𝘪𝘧 𝘐'𝘮 𝘢𝘴𝘭𝘦𝘦𝘱, 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴𝘯'𝘵 𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘶𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘢 𝘣𝘪𝘨 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘭."

the thought came to you before you even moved from your spot on the floor. oh, yeah. that's right. you're asleep.

...

huh. most dreams feel a little more, don't know. dreamy?? if this is a dream, candy is going to start raining from the sky right now.

right now. here.

𝘯𝘰𝘸, you think, looking up at the ceiling half heartedly. alright, if this was a nightmare, it was a really weird horrible one. and also, you'd rather not push your luck at this point. so, mirror it is. ignoring the pit of panic welling in your chest, you push yourself to your feet, and tip toe to the kitchen sink. you stare at the faucet, and then force your eyes upward. your hair is frazzled, and there are white specks along the corners of your mouth. and then, you turn around. your jaw tightens when you see the open wound, your nightshirt torn open and revealing tattered, aggressive flesh beneath it. that thing probably cut you to the bone. hopefully, because there is in fact a bone there, it didn't hit any organs. you can breathe fine, so your lung didn't seem all too punctured. it's just ugly. ugly and painful.

cleaning it is the first step, and you're just thankful that despite the fact that you stupidly, stupidly, stupidly dumped isopropyl alcohol onto it in hopes of doing so (for a second, before the burning, you felt a little uncomfortable. and then it hit, you nearly cracked your tooth from biting down so hard), it's over with.

a week later, you find yourself in class, rubbing sleepiness from your eyes. so, long story short, that wasn't a dream, and something is horribly wrong. you waking up to a long scab running down your shoulder blade told you that much. and things were about to get a lot worse. in the real world, that is.

"sir, please. they do literally nothing. they just sit there all spaced out, rubbing their eyes. it's like they aren't even trying for this project!" brandy, your classmate begs in a hushed tone. as annoying as the brunette could be at times, she wasn't wrong. a pang in your chest as you think of possibly making it so that the other members of your group protect fail because you are too tired to do your part. god, sorry brenda, you're too busy trying to huddle up in a bathroom all night and take care of a wound that isn't healing for some reason, all while praying that the thing that chased you in there and will probably kill you, doesn't murder you. but she's still not wrong. and it isn't like she knows that, because you have something seriously wrong with you. it's not her fault, and she shouldn't have to pay for you being crazy.

"mr. thomas," you quietly call, rubbing your elbow uncomfortably as you stare at the floor. you can see brandy pause from the corner of your eye, and you think there's even a sorry expression on her face. even if she was annoying, she clearly hadn't thought you heard that. and she had a right to be upset.

"I would like to change groups, if, um, possible."

there's a pause, and from your peripheral view, you can see your teacher and classmate motioning at each other, her probably trying to convince him to let you do so. a small thump, and then a sigh. "alright. I'm going to put you with ashlyn's group. "

as a redhead from across the room pops up and looks around, mr. thomas looks through a few pieces of paper, crossing something off with his pen. he didn't say it out loud, and frankly, he didn't have to. that was the group in the class that was also failing, so, you being in it wouldn't have much of an impact anyway. at least you wouldn't sink the whole ship all by yourself. was it smart, as a teacher? no. he probably should have put you with a tutor or something. looking up at mr. thomas as you nod and collect your things from your desk reveals an, in fact, apologetic eyed brandy. she mouths a "thank you", and you nod in return. you would drag your chair to their little group later, first, you should go introduce yourself, and hope they don't kick you out.

the bright blonde of the group catches you with his eyes before anyone else. you can hear him say something, and the rest of them stop talking and turn to look at you as you awkwardly walk over. their eyes are so piercing, it's making you uncomfortable.

"can we help you?" a brunette asks, tilting her head up to look at you. her tone carries no malice, just curiosity. makes you feel a little bit better.

"I'm so sorry to ask this, if you guys don't want me in your project I'll go ask if I can be alone or join another group or something, it's not a big deal. I'm having issues with my part of the project, and it's affecting everyone else's work in my group. so they were wondering if I could join in with you guys."

they all share a really weird look with each other, like they're talking telepathically or something. a tense moment passes, and two members speak up at the same time.

"yeah sure lol."

"fuck no."

"tyler! be nice! besides, we probably need someone who actually knows what's going on in this class!"

"didn't she just say she was having issues with her work? it's not like she's going to add much."

"to be fair, I don't think any of us are doing all too great on the work anyway."

you feel the need to clarify, mainly to get this over with. "I'm not really having trouble with the work. I'm just not doing it. I'm having sleeping issues, again, not a big deal if you don't want me to join."

they all stop, and look at you again. the redheaded one narrows her eyes, letting the braid she was messing with fall to her lap. her and the boy next to the brunette girl who asked you a question - actually, now that you're up close and looking at him, that looks like one of the boys on the baseball team. didn't she call him tyler? like tyler hernandez? huh. you didn't even realize you guys shared this class.

"what kind of nightmares have you been having?" the blonde asks, looking at who you're starting to assume is ashlyn. they have a staring contest of sorts while you start to answer. "oh, just weird ones. like, ones with monsters... and stuff..."

you didn't say anything about nightmares.

he looks at you again, a cat like grin on his face. "I think you should sit down. "

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

next part: a rescue mission

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