#* i'd think maybe a month or two had gone by? Since the last time they were together.

[deeisace]

..

[nicoline1998enilocin]

Cuddle bug

PAIRING | Boyfriend!Steve Rogers x Girlfriend!Fem!Reader

WORD COUNT | ~ 900 words

SUMMARY | Steve comes home from a long mission, and all he wants is to be cuddled up in bed with his favorite person. However, your shared secret threatens to be spilled when your good friend walks in the door and finds the two of you in bed together.

RATING | Teen (T)

WARNINGS/TAGS | Established (secret) relationship, use of nickname (Doll).

A/N | This little drabble is written based on a request I received from a sweet Anon! As soon as I saw this prompt, I couldn't resist writing a little something, so I hope you will all enjoy it! This is proofread by the amazing @ccbsrmsf1, for which I'm forever grateful. I love you 🩷

EVENTS Masterlist | @marvel-smash-bingo | Secret relationship Masterlist | @seasonaldelightsbingo | Can't Warm Up Masterlist | @ultimatechrisbingo | "That is America's ass."

Banners: Yours truly | Divider: @firefly-graphics | GIF: Source

Main Masterlist | Steve Rogers Masterlist

Steve has been away on an extended mission—three and a half weeks and counting—and you're missing him more than ever. The two of you started dating only a few months ago, though it mainly takes place behind closed doors. You cannot get enough of one another whenever you are alone. Still, when other people are around, it is strictly professional—apart from the occasional reassuring smile you give one another.

Within the Avengers, there is no opposition to team members dating. Still, Steve has specifically asked to keep your relationship a secret because he wants to explore the connection between you two. It is the perfect way to get to know each other personally, and the last few months have been amazing because of that.

Now, you find yourself in your bedroom, curled up in your comfiest armchair with a good book and Alpine beside you. Since Bucky is on the same mission as Steve, you have taken over her care, and she's purring away in her sleep on the windowsill, enjoying the warm spring sun.

Just as you're about to finish your chapter, you hear a knock on your door, and you look up, expecting Natasha or maybe Tony to come by, but when you see who walks in the door, you smile brightly. Steve is back from his mission.

"Hi, Doll. I missed you," he tells you as he walks into the room, and your book lies abandoned in your chair. He's still wearing his suit and the shield on his back, letting you know he came to visit you right away, and it makes the butterflies in your stomach go wild.

"Steve, you're back already! I thought you would be gone for another few days!" Your arms are wrapped around his waist as you plaster yourself against his chest. His heartbeat thumps against your cheek as he gives you soft kisses on the top of your head. His hands rub soothingly over your back as he inhales your sweet scent.

"Mission got wrapped up early, so I figured I'd come home to my girl as soon as possible," Steve says. You lift your head to meet his gaze, warmth spreading through your cheeks as he calls you his girl.

"I love it when you call me your girl; it makes me feel special," you say shyly, and Steve can't help but chuckle.

"I'm glad because I cannot stop calling you that," he tells you before kissing you in a sweet, soft kiss. You two take your time to bask in one another's familiarity, but he pulls away when he can feel a shiver run down your spine.

"I think it's time we had some cuddles, Doll. You're shivering," he whispers, and you nod.

"That sounds good. You know I can't warm up properly with you there," you tell him, and he smiles knowingly. Before you know it, Steve has put down the shield, and his suit is folded neatly on top. As he bends down to put his boots away as well, you happen to glance over, and you're met with the glorious sight of Steve's butt being wrapped perfectly by his light blue boxer briefs, highlighting it beautifully.

"Hmm, so that is America's ass," you say jokingly. You have seen it clothed and bare countless times, but you still can't help saying it. The bright red flush covering Steve's cheeks has you smiling wide, and you can't get enough of the sight.

You have also taken your clothes off, being left in your underwear as you crawl under the covers with Steve. Due to the super soldier serum, his body temperature is always warmer than a regular person's, so he makes a perfect cuddle companion during the nights and colder months.

"Welcome back, Steve. I missed you and your warmth so much," you whisper when you're lying in his arms, your leg thrown over his, his arm wrapped around you, and your head on his chest. The comforter is pulled up to your chin, and you're just about to fall asleep when you hear a few knocks on your door.

"Y/N? I'm here to pick up Alpine!" you hear Bucky's voice carry through the door before he swings it open, and you immediately sit upright in the bed, clutching the comforter to your chest, leaving Steve exposed in the bed in the process.

"B-Bucky, hi!" you say as embarrassment floods your body that you're caught in bed with your boyfriend. Bucky's face turns bright red as he looks at the two of you, his mouth opening and closing without words as he tries to understand what's happening. Without saying another word, he turns around and closes the door behind him, leaving you two to wonder what just happened.

"I should go talk to him, Doll," Steve says as he leans in for a kiss, which you happily give him.

"Okay, but only if you promise to come back soon. I can't miss you for too long again!" you tell him, and he nods with a smile before jumping into his pants. The rest of his suit and his shield are left behind as he runs after Bucky to explain what is going on between you two.

While you were embarrassed at first, you're also a little relieved that you can finally share the love between you two with someone. This is going to be the first step to telling everyone about your relationship, too. It won't be long before you don't have to carry this secret around anymore, and you're looking forward to that day finally being here.

[makethemhoesmad]

close to you

paigey🫶

might have a part two, might not

enjoy!

—

I don't got a single problem with provocative

it had been a while since i’d been out. i haven’t wanted to look good, pretty, slutty, in months. tonight was different. nothing had happened, exactly. one thing just lead to another, then i called my friends and here we are, driving out to somewhere i always forget the name of.

See the bodies, how they burn, it's just the way it is

there are so many people here, all packed together like sardines. i brush hips and arms and hands with people, not remembering their faces, names, or voices when they try to apologize softly, but end up shouting in my face.

Smoky, dark, crowded room

it’s dark here, too. the air feels almost hazy, but that might just be me. i can’t find my friends, but i think i catch a glimpse of one of them far on the other end of the room, their blonde hair looking almost too bright for the atmosphere.

I need nothing under pink light in June

i don’t need my friends here, with me. not under the haze, the sweat, the loud music. who i thought was my friend turns around, face in a rare glimmer of pink spotlight, letting me realize that this blonde woman isn’t someone i know. however, as my eyes skate down her body, noting toned abs and defined biceps, i find myself thinking that maybe id like her to be someone i know.

I was so cool, but then, all of a sudden

You saw me look at you

i guess i stare at this mystery girl too long, because she turns, making eye contact with me. i let out a short, audible gasp, flinching away immediately. i shouldn’t have. i should have looked right into those blue eyes until she was interested enough to come and talk to me.

I burn for you, and you don't even know my name

i don’t do that. i look away, face burning. this is fucking embarrassing. she doesn’t even know my name, i’m pretty sure i don’t know hers but there’s a nagging feeling in the back of my mind that i should. i glance that way again, to see her gone. i’m almost disappointed, until a flash of blonde appears right next to me, and the body carrying it snakes an arm around my waist.

If you asked me to, I'd give up everything

“Hey ma, haven’t seen you here in ages.”

you stutter at her words. she remembers you coming here other times? you barely remember your last time here, why should a stranger know that?

“Haven’t been here in ages, but how would you know that?” i question, batting my eyes up at her. she’s quite a bit taller than me. taller than the average, that’s for sure.

“i’ve seen you, baby, and ill always notice when a cute girl is here wandering around, looking a bit too intimidating.” with her words, she pulls me closer to her, then starts walking through the crowd, and pulls me out the door.

“too hot in there for you, sweetie?” i nudge at her, smirking playfully. she winks, sending a straight shot of heat right down to a place that shouldn’t be hot right now.

“nah, jus’ wanted to ask if you wanted to come home with me out here, where i can hear you better.”

To be close to you

no is probably the smart answer, but for some reason, my mouth keeps moving.

“you see, i’d say yes but i don’t even know your name. wanna start there, or should i just call you sweetheart and we go from there?” 

when the nickname tumbles from my lips, her eyes glaze over just the slightest. 

“paige.” she says. i tell her my name, and she drags me to her car. she leans over me, presumably to open to passenger seat. instead, she slots her lips against mine, letting out a quiet whimper when my mouth opens. i reach back, opening the door and letting us tumble in. she pulls me onto her lap, moving my hips into a heavy grind through our clothes. i groan against her lips, the sensations making my eyes roll back.

“you like that, baby?” She huffs into my ear. i respond by tucking my face into her chest, while rucking up her shirt. she’s wearing nothing under the thin cropped tank. 

i lean down even further, taking one of her nipples into my mouth. i moan around it, as paige speeds up her work on my hips. suddenly, she stops. she climbs over the center console into the drivers seat, then pulls me into a seated position.

“what are you doing, sweetheart?” i say. she seems to like the name still, because her tongue juts out to wet her bottom lip. 

“taking you to my place. wanna watch you come undone on my tongue, ma.”

[weird-is-life]

hello! how’s your day?i hope it’s great

can i request something like childhood friend!reader x spencer reid to lover? i love that trope and i always imagine spencer reid in it

perhaps they’ve met again on the case and reader was the victim?

it’s totally fine if you can’t wrote that, have a great day!<3

Hiii lovely🥰, ty so much for this request! I loooved writing this trope. Warnings: like one swear word, little angsty, fluff, pet names, use of y/n, mentions of food, mentions of crime (1.5k)

Spencer and you met by accident after so many years. Spencer couldn't believe his eyes as he saw you walk out of the interrogation room at the Bau.

He didn't understand what his childhood best friend was doing at his workplace office.

Seeing your sorrow expression he didn't need anything else to know that you were one of the many witnesses of the latest series of violent bank robberies.

And it made his heart stop for a second. Wanting to meet you...-wanting to see you again after so many years was always somewhere deep at the back of his mind, but he didn't exactly want to see you walk out out of the interrogation room.

He freezed for a moment. He wasn't expecting to see you there, and it definitely caught him off guard.

You, on the other hand, hoped you'd run into Spencer that day. You knew he worked for the FBI. You maybe even secretly hoped that he'd be the one you'd have to explain what exactly had happened at the bank.

He didn't. So finally seeing him managed to bring a smile to your upset face.

You ignored his lovely colleague Emily as she instructed you on something, and headed straight towards Spencer.

"Spencer, hi, I can't believe it's you," you said breathlessly as you neared him, his eyes scanning you intensively.

Spencer swallowed hard. You two were just some kids the last time you saw each other, but right now....Right now, Spencer couldn't believe his eyes. You might have just been the most beautiful girl he's ever seen.

His shock was even bigger when you threw your arms around his neck, and hugged him sincerely. Spencer, for once, managed to handle the shock, and hugged you back.

It was an effort for you not to end up on the floor from the way your legs almost turned into a jello. When the fuck did Spencer get so hot? That was the only thing on your mind, even the horrors of the roberry gone.

"Hi, it's been so long, too long," Spencer beamed at you, giving you one-over one more time.

"I know," you gave him a small smile," I wanted to reach out to you since I'd moved here a few months ago, but I didn't want to intrude into your life."

"Intrude? You could never," Spencer immediately reassured you, and you didn't look too convinced," seriously, I mean it."

You just nodded, and Spencer asked you, "How have you been? Were-were you a part of some roberry?"

"Y-yeah, it...it wasn't very pretty, I-" you tried to find the right words, but you realised that there were multiple sets of eyes on you and Spencer. He realised it, too.

With his quick thinking, he said, "I'm sorry, my friends can be really nosy," he glared at somebody (Derek) as he said it," would you..- are you hungry?"

"There's a cafeteria a few floors down.....We could talk there? Catch up on everything?" Spencer proposed with a little hope.

"Yeah, I think, I'd like that," you told him, and you let him guide you towards the elevator with his hand on your lower back.

It definitely did not send butterflies down to your belly with every step you took. The old, forgotten feelings flickering inside you both.

-

That happened a few months ago now, and you couldn't help but to smile as you remembered the meeting while waiting in a small caffè for Spencer to come.

He is running late. You don't mind the wait because you know it's not his fault. His job isn't easy. So waiting the few minutes is worth it.

You and Spencer have been going on these coffee......runs since you've reunited the few months ago. But you keep hoping, wishing that they will turn into coffee dates rather just some friendly coffee runs.

It's save to say that seeing Spencer after so many years made some new feelings surface. Feelings that weren't there before, and you don't know what to do with them.

Well, you do, but you're terrified of the idea of Spencer's rejection. You don't think you'd be able to live in the same city as him if he indeed did reject you.

But you can't keep going out with him, and have him smiling at you like like you're the only person on this earth for him. You just can't keep up with it anymore.

You've decided that today is the day you tell him how you feel. No matter what. Even if it's most likely going to leave you heartbroken.

Spencer pulls you out of your thoughts when he rounds the table you sit at, and leans down to give you a quick hug and a kiss......a kiss on a cheek.

It leaves you breathless, and it's exactly why you need to tell him about your feelings because this is just cruel, sweet torture you can't endure any longer.

"Hi, I'm so sorry I'm late. Hotch had us hand in all of the reports, so I needed to finish a few things," he tells you as he settles in the seat opposite of you.

His coffee is already waiting on the table in front of him, and he gives you a thankful nod.

"It's okay, Spence. I don't mind," you give him a tight smile, the nerves rushing through your body.

Spencer, damn his profiling skills, immediately senses that something is off. "What's wrong?" He reaches across the table for your hand, but you pull it away quickly. You could swear that there was a hurt in his eyes just as you did.

"I-....I need to tell you something," you quickly blurt out.

"You can tell me anything, yeah?" He assures you. This time without trying to touch your hand. You don't look into his eyes while he tries to catch your gaze.

"I can't keep going for a coffee with you anymore."

Spencer now definitely looks hurt after your first sentence, and you cringe. You didn't mean to start like that.

"Shit," you curse quietly," what I mean to tell you is that.......is that-." You can't find the right words.

"I like you, Spencer," you blurt out," mo-more than just a friend." Spencer just looks at you. Completely baffled, and he doesn't utter a single word.

You think he's just a little shocked, but as the minutes go by, and he still doesn't say anything, you understand. He doesn't feel the same, and then there's horror in your eyes.

"Fuck, I'm sorry, Spencer," you scramble quickly to take all your stuff," I'm really sorry." And with that, you are out of there faster than a lightning.

You swiftly run out of the caffè as the tears threatened to spill from your eyes. You don't even know where you are going, but you don't care you just want to get as far away from Spencer as possible.

Of course, you don't even take 30 steps before a hand gently catches you by your elbow. You, even just by the touch of his hand, know that it's Spencer.

"Wait," he pleads," please, y/n." You stop, and slowly you turn around. Spencer scans your upset face, the tears on your cheeks, and his own heart breaks.

He didn't mean to stay quiet like that. It just...-It caught him off guard. He wasn't, even in his wildest dreams, thinking of you actually liking him back. Like there wasn't a single reality where he saw that happening. And yet.... And yet, you like him, and he can't believe it.

"It's okay, Spence," you start.

"But it's not, I'm sorry-"

You interrupt him, "I understand that you don't feel the same."

"No, no, sweetheart. I do. I feel exactly the same way you do," he confesses softly, hoping you believe his words after the initial mess up of his.

"Spencer, you don't have to lie....-"

Spencer almost looses it when you say that, because he could never be that cruel to you. Never. And he doesn't get why you don't believe him, so he does something that hopefully will finally let you see the truth.

Spencer kisses you.

Spencer kisses you?

What?

You don't really realise it, until he's pulling away, sorry eyed, his soft, warm lips immediately something you miss. You don't let him get far away from your lips as you crash them again against his. Your one hand goes into his hair, and his hair is just as soft to the touch as it looks like.

Spencer's kiss is intense and gentle at the same time, and it makes your knees buckle, maybe just from the sheer joy of your feelings being reciprocated. You tighten your grip on his shoulder.

Spencer notices it, smiling into the kiss, before he pulls away. There's a happy glint in his eyes, and you are sure yours look the same.

Spencer beams at you. "I'd never lie to you. Ever."

"I know."

You smile sheepishly at him, "I just got too into my head to listen to you. I'm sorry."

"I'm not," Spencer looks at you amused. Right. Of course, he's not sorry about the kiss. And neither are you, you could never be.

Spencer offers you his hand," how about I'll tell you all about how crazy I feel about you while we go for a walk?"

"I'd like that. I'd like that a lot, Spencer." The bright smile doesn't leave your or even Spencer's face as you begin to walk.

[w2soneshots]

Can you make a short one about us singing Harry’s distrack home alone and he brings the boys home and they just hear us singing it and cooking. And We Get scared and emberesed all all it is just super fluffy

Caught -W2S

words: 0.5k+

warnings: none.

summary: when you’re home alone you subconsciously start singing Harry’s old diss track. But unbeknownst to you four of the sidemen are listening.

notes: I love this idea! I think it's time for my monthly 'sidemen diss tracks' rewatch😂. Enjoy babe!🌟💞

"Creature was shit. Why did we have to wait four months for it?" I sang quietly as I made myself dinner. "You said you were evolving, but you didn't do bits. You just evolved into the first male with tits." I continued before taking a sip of the wine I just poured. "You said you had to get some things off your chest. So, tell me, why the fuck do you still have breasts?"

I've been with Harry for years. We met just as he moved to London and immediately hit it off. So I was present for the entire diss track era, meaning I have unintentionally learned the lyrics to Harry's 'Ksi Sucks' song. Along with the fact it's recently gone viral and is all over TikTok. "Yeah, you're leaving the Sidemen, but, thankfully. You made the other guys. But you didn't make me. So I can stand here on my own two feet. As I chat shit about you on this old-school beat." The pan sizzled as the chicken cooked, and a puff of steam erupted into the air.

I heard a chuckle and I jumped, along with a small screech from my mouth. I quickly whirled around to see Harry, Ethan, JJ and Simon stood in my living room, with massive smiles on their faces. "Fuckin hell you scared the shit out of me!" Harry chuckled. "were you just singing my diss track?" My face turned red from embarrassment. "Uhm... yea it's stuck in my head." I replied. All four of them burst out laughing.

"Are you hungry? I made way too much food." I asked as the boys sat down on the sofa. "Yea sure, that would be great." Harry answered. The boys nodded their heads happily. I smiled lightly then returned to cooking the food. Once it was finished I plated it up onto five different plates then everyone came to sit down.

"So how come you all came back here?" I asked after a few minutes. "We need to make some last minute decisions for our next shoot so I said we could do it at our place." Harry replied. I nodded "well you could've sent me a quick text Haz. Maybe I wouldn't have been caught singing." I said sarcastically. A small rumble of laughter came from Ethan. "You were pretty good to be fair." Simon joked. I rolled my eyes and continued eating my food. Since I've known Harry for so many years I'm pretty comfortable with the boys and have amazing friendships with the girls (especially Freya since she was also here from the very beginning).

Once everyone had finished JJ offered to clear the plates away but I told him that I'd do it and for him to get on with the work he needed to do. After cleaning up I headed into the bedroom to watch tv. I heard many laughs and loud talking. "It's going to take them ages to finish that if they keep messing around." I thought. But after almost an hour they were finished and Harry was crawling into bed next to me.

[beccarodeupontheafternoontrain]

Guest in the Relationship

Damian Wayne x reader

Word count: 3024

Summary: Damian keeps forgetting about your dates and this night is the final straw

Warnings: mugging, some violence, slight angst and unedited

Part 2

First work I’ve written in a long time so constructive criticism is welcomed, but please be kind and I hope you enjoy :)

I looked at the clock on my bedside table. 7:34. It had been over an hour since Damian was supposed to pick me up for our date. I'd been discussing how much I wanted to see this film for months at this point - ever since the first promo trailer dropped. The tickets I had bought for opening night went unused in my desk drawer from another date Damian had forgotten or been late to.

The number of dates planned but gone uncompleted seemed insurmountable now, endless even. In the year and a half I'd been dating Damian I had gotten used to the constant family emergencies, other plans he had or straight up just him forgetting you had plans in the first place. Damian always apologised profusely afterwards and I had always forgiven him. It was a non-problem. Yes it hurt and was annoying, but it wasn't till recently his inability to prioritise you had become a problem. Jon had gotten himself a boyfriend, a boyfriend who showed up to every date early bearing gifts for Jon. I was beyond happy my best friend had finally found himself someone, but a green lens always covered my vision when he told me about how perfect his relationship was. Especially when he mentioned how him and his boyfriend had gone to see the film I seemed to have mentioned in nearly every sentence I'd spoken as of recent. To top the cake this conversation occurred at a friend lunch date which Damian cancelled going to last minute because of a 'family emergency'. I refused to think about what or rather who a family emergency was. I glanced at the clock again, 7:43. If I didn't leave soon I'd miss the film, again, I wasn't going to waste anymore cinema tickets. With a sigh I braced myself and my heart for once again doing something alone that I was supposed to, should be doing with Damian.

The film had barely reached the halfway point when I finally decided to leave the screen. The vice grip holding my heart captive was too much to handle, the pain was making me physically sick. The film was just as good as Jon had said, I just wished Damian was there to see it with me or had at least replied to one of my texts asking where he was. My heart hurt so much from the disappointment of not only missing Damian, but also from not being able to enjoy the film i'd been waiting for, for so long. Did I really mean so little to Damian? Surely he would have broken up with me by now if he had no interest in me. But then why did we barely see each other anymore, I couldn't even recall the last time we saw each other outside of school. Maybe he just didn't know how to break up with me. My heart burned just at the thought he didn't want me anymore. Tears started rushing down my face, harder than before. I couldn't walk back into the screen like this, I just needed to go back to my house. Despite the 45 minutes in the dark it would take, I decided to walk home, I couldn't bear the idea of anyone on the bus giving me funny looks for crying. I should have really performed a risk assessment before walking around Gotham at night, but I was too focused on trying to calm my heavy breathing and halt my tears.

My steps sped up when my front door became visible, I really just wanted to sleep. I was too distracted to notice the balaclava clad man who had been following me for two blocks already. He grabbed me from behind, covering my mouth to prevent me from screaming for help and pulled me into the closest alleyway. I knew a bruise was going to form from where he shoved me against the wall. My tear's amplified significantly, this was quite frankly the worst time I could be mugged. A knife found its way against my neck "empty your pockets." his words were slow and clear - no fear of being caught by one of the many vigilantes who called Gotham their home. "I don't have anything." Any attempts I was making to appear strong to the man in front of me failed miserably due to the cracking of my voice. My never ending crying from past hour and a bit had done me no favours. The mugger placed the knife more firmly against my neck "I won't repeat myself again" his lips were so close to grazing my ear "empty your pockets." I couldn't see any clear escape from this situation, I needed to try and diffuse it. "Please, I really don't have anything!" My voice was considerably louder and more firm this time. I could feel the edge of the knife slowly cutting into the skin of my neck. Where was the obnoxious bird inspired superhero when you needed him. He always seemed to be lurking around your neighbourhood, so why now was he failing to grace you with his presence. The mugger pushed me further against the wall, hard, so hard I could feel the brickwork through my raincoat. He pushed one hand into my pockets while the other kept the knife placed at my throat. The man got increasingly angered as spare change, my film ticket and a piece of gum fell to the floor. When he finally took my phone out of my pocket, I could tell there was a low chance of me escaping this encounter unscathed. My 5 year old iPhone would barely get him enough money to buy a meal at Bamonte's. The man's body language caused my heart even faster I feared it might actually leave my body. I had never seen someone so angry. He grabbed my face with both hands, the roughness of his hands could leave cuts on my skin themselves. His grip became impossibly tighter on my face in order for him to smash my face into the brick behind. A loud pained yelp escaped my lips. Pleads begging someone would help invade my mind - bird themed hero or neighbour, anyone. The man stepped back, twirling his knife in his hand, staring at me like he was contemplating what to do next. I screamed. It was the only option I had left, there were no other means to escape this situation. There was no way I could overpower this man, especially when he was wielding a knife he'd already cut me with. All I could do was scream for help and pray someone would hear me.

Luckily for me and unfortunately for the man in front of me, a caped shadow appeared from behind the man. Relief possessed my body as I watched the mugger be knocked out. Where moments prior rough hands gripped my face, now gloved hands cradle my cheeks. Jade green eyes analysing my face in a silent question. A question I was not yet ready to answer. Instead I wrapped my arms around Robin's shoulders burying my head in the crook of his neck, the phrase thank you becoming my mantra. Me and Robin had only stumbled across each other a handful of times previously, usually on a late night walk of mine where he started off by lecturing me of the dangers of walking around alone at night and ended with us stargazing on my fire escape discussing our secrets.

I am unsure what happened over the next few minutes, shock and tears overtook my body. All I am sure of is that Robin held me throughout it all. He let me stay holding him, kissing my temple and stroking my hair, reassuring me everything was okay now. When I finally felt like I could breathe again, I removed my head from where it rested against Robin's shoulder so I could look at him "I'm sorry." I said, my voice reverting back to its hoarse quiet mess as a result of my crying. He shook his head at me, removing the remnants of my tears with his fingers. "There's no need to be sorry." I hesitantly smile at him "I guess I should have listened more to your lectures." My attempt at brightening the mood fails when Robin doesn't reciprocate my smile. "I need you to promise me that you'll never walk alone at night again." His greens pleaded with me to listen to him as he continued even more seriously. "If I hadn't gotten there when I had" Robin cuts himself off, looking away from me and swallowed harshly. "I need you to promise me so I know you're safe. I might not always be there to protect you." When he finally looked back at me the desperation in his eyes was clear as day. I presented him with my pinky "I promise." His bodily visibly relaxed in front of me as he joined our pinkies together.

"Do you know what time it is?" I asked Robin. "Nearly half 10. Why?" He seemed genuinely baffled as why that would be the first proper thing I thought about after the type of attack I just endured. "Do you know where my phone is?" I chose to ignore his confusion. Robin looked at the floor, searching for where the mugger had dropped my phone. Fortunately, bar a few scratches to the screen, my phone had survived the attack. I had two notifications, one from my mum which arrived before the attack asking for my ETA and another from Jon asking if me and Damian enjoyed the film. No messages from Damian. None. It had been over 4 hours since we were supposed to meet. I could feel the tears start to well back up in my eyes. This wasn't the first time he hadn't responded to my messages, but it had never happened at a time where I really needed him. I needed to go home and I didn't mean the building across the road. I needed to be in Damien's arms.

I looked towards Robin who was collecting my belongings from where the man had dropped them on the pavement. I wanted to escape this situation now. Taking a breath in an attempt to contain my tears, I watched as Robin paused when he picked up my film ticket from the ground an almost incoherent curse coming from his mouth. "I really need to get home now." My teeth clenched, I was so close to crying again. I refuse to cry in front of Robin again tonight. "Thank you so much for everything." Robin opened his mouth as if to respond but I turned around before he could speak a word, practically sprinting to my front door. I just needed to hide in my bed from the world for a while. Too much had happened in such a short space of time. I needed to debate what to do about the whole Damian situation and process the attack I just experienced.

Two hours later and my phone had not stopped buzzing. Damian had been calling and messaging me non-stop to apologise and ask if I'm okay. While all I wanted was for him to hold me and make me feel safe again, how could that happen when I felt like a guest in our relationship. I know I needed to message him to reassure him I was okay and that I just needed time, I couldn't bring myself to do it. Taylor Swift was blasting through my headphones so it was no surprise I didn't hear the knock at my window, or the second, or the third or when the red caped vigilante entered my room. I only noticed him when the duvet protecting me from the rest of the world was removed around my head.

"Hey." Robin seemed nervous. He was never nervous. I sat up in my bed curious as to not only why he was here but also to why he looked so nervous. "Hi." My voice sounded stronger than it had the last time we spoke. He pushed a small rectangular piece of paper into my hands, it was the film ticket I'd left with him before. I looked up at him, tilting my head in confusion. "I just came to return this." His speech was hurried. "And to make sure you're okay of course." I'd thought nothing could ruffle the feathers of this bird, but seemingly I was wrong and I needed to get to the bottom of why he was acting so weirdly. I decided to answer him truthfully. "Apart from the cut to my neck and the probably never ending trauma, I'd say I'm doing okay considering." Robin's eyes flew to my neck, he hadn't noticed the cut till now. "It's really nothing, I'm okay, I swear." I patted the bed next to me as an offer for him to sit, but also in an effort to eradicate the new found fury on Robin's face. Turning to Robin I say "now why don't you tell me what's wrong with you." Robin's anger quickly turns back into apprehension, but his eyes never leave the small cut on my neck. "I don't know what you mean." He replies, words slightly slower than before. I roll my eyes at him, I repeat myself . He's short with his response "nothing." There was no way I was letting this boy leave my room without a proper explanation. "So you go to every damsels room after you rescue them then?" Robins quick response of no was partnered with a shake of the head so familiar to me. Odd. "Then why come visit me after?" Robin was stumped by this question, constantly opening his mouth to answer before closing it again. He finally settled on an answer. "You seemed upset about something else other than the incident earlier" he looked me in the eyes before continuing, god they looked so similar to my favourite pair. Obviously missing Damian was making me look for him in places he had no right being. "As somewhat friends I wanted to see what I could do to help." I'd blanked out half of what Robin had said with my thoughts of Damian. If I was going to get to the bottom of why Robin was acting so weirdly I needed to tell him the truth first. "In all honesty" I started, hands playing with the Wolf teddy given to me by Damian "I'm having some relationship trouble and I don't know what to do about it." Robin's back got impossibly straighter "Problems?" He said through gritted teeth, like he was in pain. "What kind of problems?" I gripped the Wolf harder "I don't think my boyfriend loves me anymore." Tears started to fall down my cheeks as Robin sucked in a breath next to me. He looked just as shell shocked as I felt admitting the fact out loud. Robin placed his arm over my shoulders and drew comforting circles on my arm. "What makes you think that?" Robin seemed to really struggle to ask the question, I found it even harder to answer. "I'm not a priority to him anymore, if I ever was. He's constantly creating excuses not to see or talk to me. Damian is keeping so many secrets from me and there's never ending lies." Tears were falling freely from my eyes now, I didn't care if Robin saw them anymore. Robin was shaking his head, but I finished my ramble about mine and Damian's relationship before he could get a word in "I think there may be another girl." Robin looked stricken, panicked, immediately voicing his disagreement with my conclusion. "I can assure you that is not the case at all" his hands are on my face, trying to get me to look at him but I keep my gaze averted. "How would you know?" Venom tainted my voice. I didn't want to be mean but how on Earth would Robin of all people know of Damian's feelings. Robin called my name, desperation plaguing his words. When I still didn't look at him, too angry to dare, he called me by my nickname "Habibti."

My head whipped round to face Robin's. "What did you just call me?" Instead of answering me, he covered my hands with his and directed them towards his domino mask. "What are you doing?" I ask hesitantly "It's okay, Habibti." I slowly peel away the mask to reveal my boyfriend's face. "I can assure you that I do love you Beloved, more than anything." Damian moves my hands to cover his heart "I'm so sorry my actions have made it seem otherwise. You mean the world to me, Habibti." I moved away from him, sitting on the opposite side of the bed to him. "You lied to me." I said. This was obviously not the reaction Damian was hoping for because the calm that had passed over his face once I removed the mask had quickly turned back into panic. He said my name softly and tried to get closer to me. I clambered off the bed in an attempt to get away from him. "I think I need some time." Damian looked as if I'd just burnt down his whole word and moved towards me again. I retreated back a step, halting his movements and causing more anguish to paint his face. "No." I said "Damian, I need some time to think. Please give me that time." He simply nodded his head, fixed his mask back into position and left through my open window.

I chose to keep Damian's Gotham Academy Orchestra hoodie on as I slipped back into bed, cocooning myself in my duvet and replaying the scene that just occurred over and over again in my head. What was I going to do. What was I supposed to do. I grabbed my wolf teddy and clutched it tighter to my chest. I had no idea what the next move I was going to make was, but I knew I had to decide soon.

[two-sides-halved]

Classic and Human Steven where sleeping upstairs while Gem Steven was having a gaming session upstairs with his headphones on his only focus was on the game and nothing else.

The sound of the door being kicked open made Classic Steven opened his eyes and looked around his room for anything that while while Human Steven was sleeping peacefully used to the noises that his brother made while he was gaming at his desk in the same room.

The sound of metal pipes hitting the ground startled Classic Steven before hearing Eris' voice and taking a moment to breath. He took his phone and shut off his alarm. While Human Steven mumbled to Gem to turn down the noises on his game while still sleeping. Gem Steven on the other hand wasn't phased at all by any other noises other than the ones from his game, he had a personal mission and nothing was going to deter him from his goals.

Classic Steven slowly got dressed and head downstairs to greet Eris. "Hey Eris, nice seeing you again... have fun on your trip*? You do realize that most people are still sleeping around this hour right?" He asked as he went to go make some coffee, pouring himself a cop and offered Eris on as well as he mixed sugar, some flavored creamer and milk into his drink.

There was a loud bang against the Universe household’s door as a woman kicked it open with an arm filled with a bag that was currently spilling metal rods all over the boardwalk floors with a loud ‘thud!’ Which was alarming to hear first thing in the morning but apparently the woman (culprit in question) seemed to pay it no mind.. forcing a ‘o’ around her hands as she shouted.

“WHO’S READY TO GO ON A CAMPING TRIP!!!!”

@two-sides-halved

[captainsophiestark]

One Night Werewolf

Dick Grayson x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for Fictober 2024!

Requested by @bandshirts-andbooks! I had a different idea for the prompt originally, but this came to me in a flash and wouldn't let me go until I wrote it lol. Hope you enjoy!

Fandom: DC

Day Nine Prompt: "Don't listen to me, listen to them."

Summary: Game night is never a calm affair when Dick and his SO host all the Batkids for the evening.

Word Count: 1,486

Category: Fluff, Humor

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

I leaned forward over my crossed legs on the couch, slowly moving in towards my boyfriend, Dick Grayson, until we were basically nose to nose. I stared into his deep blue eyes, just waiting for him to blink or flinch or otherwise give himself away. He didn't move, the faint, charming smile never once faltering.

"Don't listen to him! He's lying!"

The smile on Dick's face grew as I did my best to block out the shouting from his siblings. Everyone had been at Dick and I's apartment for a few hours now, since the two of us regularly hosted a little Batkids game night. We were deep into our sixth game of werewolf, and to say things were getting intense would be an incredible understatement.

"Baby," I said, my voice low and level as Dick and I continued our staring contest. "Are you lying?"

"Obiviously!" Tim shouted.

"I actually think I agree with Tim," Duke added.

"All you have to do is look at Stephanie!" Tim continued. His suggestion was met with outraged shouts, since Stephanie had been killed by the werewolves and wasn't technically allowed to influence the game anymore.

Dick just grinned. "I'm not lying, sweetheart. But if you're really that determined... or if you're not really a villager after all..." He shrugged. "Don't listen to me, listen to them. You guys have played it perfectly, if you're one of the werewolves. You've got Duke on your side now, he's all you need."

I closed my eyes and sighed, leaning back from Dick and uncrossing my legs as I flopped onto the pillows of the couch.

"If you're not the werewolf, why do you seem so okay with losing?" I cried. I didn't have to look at my boyfriend to know he was still smiling.

"Maybe I just love you, and I'm impressed with the game you're playing."

I huffed. I was a villager, which was my least favorite role to play. Especially with the Batfamily, who made it ten thousand times harder than normal to figure out who was lying, and about what.

Until this round, I'd been pretty confident that Tim was one of the werewolves. Everyone in the family was a good detective, but Tim more often than not took that deductive reasoning to a whole new level, which meant he usually got killed first when he wasn't a werewolf. Cass had been the first casualty of this game, which had immediately put the suspicion on Tim. We'd gone back and forth and played a few rounds without voting anybody out, until Dick had claimed to be the seer. Nobody in the game had contradicted him, but as Tim had pointed out, Stephanie seemed to be barely restraining herself from shouting a rebuttle.

Still, with her and the rest of this family, that didn't necessarily mean she was the seer. Last month, Jason had been correctly voted off as a werewolf, but managed to convince us all through facial expressions that he had been wrongly removed as the seer, and had played us all to a werewolf win.

I sighed, then finally sat up. Dick and I were still knee to knee on the couch, but I did my best to ignore it. Everyone in the room was staring at me, which worked pretty well as a distraction.

Dick and Jason were pulling for me to join them in voting out Tim. Dick claimed to be the seer, and said he'd seen that Tim was one of the werewolves. Tim continued to claim innocence, and had convinced Duke to join him in trying to vote out Dick, even though we'd all been suspicious of Tim since the beginning. Not a single person still in the game showed a crack in their poker faces.

"Okay... alright. Tim, I'm sorry, but I'm just not buying that you're a villager. You're always the first kill, and I know we've been joking for a long time about the round where somebody finally does it differently, but I'm not convinced that's this round."

"No! Dammit, Grayson's lying to you!"

"Or else she's one of the werewolves..." said Duke. Jason raised an eyebrow, but I just shook my head.

"I'm done with the back and forth, you all make it impossible to play this game." I met Dick's eyes again, and he gave me a gorgeously charming smile. "I'm trusting you. Don't make me regret it."

"Never."

I narrowed my eyes, but I knew if I let myself keep going in circles for another minute, I'd literally never stop.

"Alright, I'm calling it," I said. "Let's vote. I vote Tim."

"No!"

"I also vote Tim, since I saw his werewolf card," said Dick. I narrowed my eyes at him, but he just reached out to rest his hand on my thigh and gave it a gentle squeeze.

"I vote Dick! Because he's clearly the werewolf!" cried Tim. Jason rolled his eyes.

"Nice try, werewolf. I vote Tim."

"Well, I guess it doesn't matter then," sighed Duke. "But for the record... I'm still going to vote Dick."

"Tim has officially been killed by the village," Damian jumped in, continuing his job of narrator, his face and tone completely neutral. "He was not a werewolf. There are only two villagers left, and still two werewolves. The werewolves win."

"Hell yeah we do!" cried Jason, leaping off the couch and punching the air. Dick jumped up with him, grinning and high-fiving his stupid werewolf teammate.

"I told you it wasn't me!" Tim cried.

"I was the seer!" Stephanie shouted at the same time. "I'm gonna get you back for making me sit through that, Grayson!"

I just sat and watched the uproar until my boyfriend plopped back on the couch next to me, turning to face me with a grin. I narrowed my eyes at him.

"You'll never make me regret trusting you, huh?"

The grin took on a tinge of regret as Dick took my hand and leaned closer to me, but it didn't disappear. I narrowed my eyes further.

"I'm sorry, baby," he said, barely sounding sorry at all. "But I have some good news."

"It better be some record breaking amazing news, Grayson."

"You know the game night betting pool that you quit after the first month?"

I snorted. The Batkids ran a ridiculous, next-level complicated betting pool on various possible scenarios across game night, including who might win certain games, in how many rounds, etc. All the payouts were for things like telling Batman about a mistake on behalf of the group or switching villain assignments when one of them didn't want to fight Condiment King. I'd participated exactly once, and it had been so intense, nitpicky, and insane that I'd decided to sit out all future betting pools.

"...I remember it, yeah. Why?"

"We had one going this week that if Jason and I managed to win as a team in werewolves—which of course had pretty bad odds—everybody would pitch in for an extra-special date night for the two of us, and they aren't allowed to interrupt us for a full eight hours."

My eyebrows shot up. I think the longest Dick and I had gone without some kind of contact from one of his siblings was six hours, maximum. Despite the werewolf argument still raging around us, the corner of my mouth started to pull up in a smile.

"Seriously?"

"Seriously."

I huffed a laugh, then leaned in until Dick and I were nose to nose again. I met his eyes, this time with a smile matching his and about two thousand percent less suspicion.

"I take back my outrage at you making me a patsy in werewolf. You did a great job, and I can't wait for our date night."

"Neither can I."

In sync, the two of us leaned forward to close the rest of the distance between us, our mouths meeting in a sweet, smiling kiss. Dick's hand wandered my waist, and I started to lean into his lap until a chorus of "ew!"s sounded from his siblings. We broke apart, both of us still grinning.

"That is not allowed at game night."

"Save it for your stupid eight hour date!"

I laughed, leaning back against Dick as he wrapped an arm around my shoulders. Everyone else had more or less settled back into their seats, so I sighed.

"Alright. We're done for now, I promise."

Everyone nodded, sighed, or otherwise overacted their relief. Dick shook his head, and I just laughed.

"Damian, give me the werewolf deck," I said, holding out a hand and deciding for the group that we were moving on. "I'm officially calling narrator. Obviously Dick and I are getting a happy ending, but I need a break from playing mind games with you people."

The assorted grins from the Batkids around me could've made even the most hardened criminal run for the hills. But after spending countless hours with them since I'd started dating Dick, for some reason, the looks just made me want to smile. I loved these scary, ridiculous idiots, almost as much as I loved Dick Grayson.

****************

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989 @space-helen

DC Taglist: @gaychaosgremlin @v1ckycheesue @lavender-dinos

[tempe-brennans]

and i'd come back if you'd just call

author's note: soulmate au + apocalypse

summary: you show up in jackson and turn joel's life upside down

warnings: implied smut and handsy touching

word count: 2.7k

There’s gray in his hair. He’s sure he should feel grateful for that–especially now–and some part of him does, he supposes.

He has people.

There’s Ellie and Tommy and Maria. You.

He’s not sure exactly what to do about you.

Besides, he’s more concerned about the ache in his back and the knots in his muscles–much more important problems than the love he’s beginning to think he still feels for you or the sunflower burning on his wrist.

There’s heating pads for his muscles and pain pills for his back–concrete solutions.

You, on the other hand, you’re young and fun and something he can’t quite get his fingers around.

And, you had left him–a fact he can’t quite forget. No matter how much he’d like to.

His throat is sore, scratchy in the way that tells him he spent last night snoring. Sighing as he sits up in bed, he cracks one shoulder and then the other.

His feet don’t want to find the floor. His body doesn’t want to hide behind the curtains in his own home because he can never be sure if you can see him.

Tommy thought he was so funny, making you two neighbors.

Joel does turn, eventually, let his feet land on the too cold floor. Toes slip into slippers he’d left in reach when he’d gotten into bed last night. He reaches blindly for the faded flannel robe that’s draped over the chair in the corner of his room.

He hasn’t had time for such indulgences, too busy running��from life, monsters. Anything. Before, he simply hadn’t wanted them.

But, Ellie had presented them both–a set, though the patterns didn’t match at all–as a gift and he hadn’t been able to say no.

He’s tired of being so sharp, so tough. In his own home, at least, maybe he can rest.

Home.

The thought brings his mind back to you, against his will, and as he pours his coffee he tries to see if your lights are on.

He can’t tell. The sun is working against him. He resolves himself to the fact that he’ll run into you at some point in town, so, really, what does it matter if you see each other sooner rather than later?

Besides, he’s almost positive you aren’t sitting in windowsills, pining after him.

He sits in the recliner Tommy had insisted he just had to have and welcomes the ability to put his feet up. It’s a relic–a handle raises and lowers the foot rest–but, somehow, it still works.

Taking a drink of his coffee, he thinks.

There’s no sound in the house, something Joel still hasn’t gotten used to since Ellie moved out.

I’m 20, she had said when Joel had asked if she was sure she wanted to leave, as if that was an explanation. Besides, don’t you want your own space?

He didn’t, if she wanted to know the truth. He wanted to hear her downstairs cooking breakfast or the sound of her snoring through the crack in her bedroom door.

He knew why she had gone, though. It was the same reason he had left home the moment he turned 18.

Freedom.

So, he could understand it, even if he wasn’t entirely fond of it.

He sees her every few days anyway.

Coffee now gone, he knows his day has to start, even if the town now feels like a loaded gun is waiting around every corner. He dresses–a flannel still happily coasting between cozy and too threadbare and jeans. He cracks his front door, feels the bite of the winter wind, and shuts it firmly.

An extra jacket wouldn’t hurt.

x

“I’m telling you,” Joel mumbles, “she probably doesn’t even remember.”

Tommy quirks a brow. “Are you kidding?” Shaking his head, he laughs. “You spent the better half of a year together. The tattoos–”

“I don’t wanna talk about the tattoos,” Joel dismisses. “Besides,” he mutters, “it was eleven months.”

“Oh,” Tommy hums. “My mistake.”

Silence and then, “You know someone will notice, right?”

Joel tilts his head. “You see me wearing a lot of short sleeves in the winter?”

“You can’t use the weather to hide forever, bro. The minute Ellie–hell, anybody–notices the two identical sunflowers on your arms?” He shakes his head. “Secrets out.”

“Yeah?” Joel asks. “What secret is that?”

His little brother leans in, whispers, “You can still find your soulmate after the apocalypse.”

“She’s the one that left.” Joel sighs. “Obviously, she didn’t care that we were soulmates.”

“You don’t even know why she left!” Tommy exclaims, exasperated.

Joel quirks a brow. “Somehow I haven’t had a lot of time, what with the apocalypse and all.”

His brother claps him on the shoulder. “You’ve got nothing but time now.”

x

Joel walks the streets of Jackson, spitting snow beginning to fall around him.

Maybe Tommy is right. It’s not like Joel doesn’t have some extra time on his hands, a strange concept after the last twenty years, he has to admit.

Maybe he should take advantage of it.

It’s that thought that’s rattling around in his brain when he collides with someone else.

“Sorry!” He reaches out, blindly, tries to catch the person or their belongings–something. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” a voice says. It’s a voice he’s never forgotten–couldn’t forget, even if he wanted to–and he kicks himself that this is the way he’d run into you again.

Literally.

“It was really,” you stand, catch sight of his face for the first time, “my fault.”

He’s older now, grayer and a little softer around the edges, but, still, he can see the moment recognition lights on your features.

“Joel?”

He nods, suddenly sheepish. For once, his mind is completely blank. It can’t begin to come up with an adequate greeting for an old flame that, maybe, still burns somewhere behind his rib cage. He settles on an all too casual, “Hi.”

You smile, a soft thing. “Hi.”

On instinct it seems, you take a step closer and hug him. Though it’s been years, the feeling of you pressed against him, your arms around him, it’s familiar.

He wants to hate it, but he doesn’t. Not even a little.

He barely resists the urge to press a kiss to your forehead, take a minute to inhale your scent, before you pull away.

“S’nice to see you.”

Joel nods. “You, too.” Somewhere between the truth and a lie.

“Your hair, it’s…softer,” you murmur.

“Yeah?” Joel reaches up, runs an idle hand through it. “Haven’t had a lot of time for haircuts, I guess.” He shrugs. “I kinda got used to it.”

You nod. “It’s been a long time.”

Joel quirks a brow. “Whose fault was that?”

It’s too sharp, too biting, and he can see the results flash across your face.

Shaking your head, you glare at him, blow out a breath. “I should have known you hadn’t changed.”

You turn on your heel, away from him, and he wants to reach out, tell you he’s sorry, but something won’t let him.

He thinks it’s his heart.

“I’ve changed plenty!” He calls after your shrinking form. “Changed enough to know I should stay away from you.”

You look over your shoulder–just for a second–long enough to cut him to the core. “The feeling is mutual!”

He sighs and continues on his own path, towards his own lonely house, entirely too close to you for comfort.

x

“So.” Ellie sighs. “That went well.”

Joel chuckles, rolls his eyes. “You think?”

“We can fix it,” she says, sitting on the couch closest to him. “It’ll be fine.”

“Sure about that?,” he asks. “It’s not a leaky sink, you know.”

Her eyes light up in the very particular way that tells Joel she’s had an idea he won’t be fond of.

He’s suddenly nervous.

“That’s it,” she exclaims.

“What’s it?”

Ellie leaves the room, obviously in search of something, and ignores him.

“Ellie,” he calls after her. “Ellie, what’s it?”

x

It’s her scheming that puts him on your porch, in fact, toolbox in hand and looking for something to fix.

Real or fake, it hadn’t really mattered to Ellie.

He should never have told her he had been a contractor.

The door opens and you glare at him, unsurprisingly.

“What do you want?”

He spits it out, before he can change his mind, run back home and hide.

“I’m sorry for earlier.” He shakes his head. “You left…before. And, I was angry and seeing you again…” He trails off, settles on simplicity. “I’m sorry.”

Something in your face softens as you step aside to let him in.

“I’m sorry for leaving, you know.”

You take him off guard, turn his pulse to a gallop.

“I was…I was afraid,” you murmur, skipping over his own apology in a way that’s entirely you.

Of course it’s the way you’d let him know things are okay.

“I should have told you that, though, instead of disappearing.”

He nods, swallows down a memory he doesn’t exactly want to relive right now, whispers, “It’s okay.”

You nod, smile at him. “You want a drink? Some food?”

He nods, places the toolbox in the floor next to your couch.

“That’d be nice.”

x

Joel isn’t sure how long the two of you have been talking–minutes or hours. Maybe days. Easy familiarity settles over the pair of you, and things are like they used to be.

He’s glad for it.

“Were there others?” Joel asks, words slipping out before he can stop them.

It’s the question that he somehow desperately wants the answer to and also never wants to hear.

You nod. “A few.” But, then, “None like you.”

It’s more honest than he expected, like your heart has opened to him once again.

You’re vulnerable. He knows you hate that.

“That makes sense.” He nods, rising to his feet, hand curling around the handle of his toolbox, imagining you want him to take his leave. “I’m pretty unforgettable.”

You laugh, look at him with something he would have called affection, once upon a time. “Yeah, you are, Miller.”

Something buzzes inside of him at the knowledge he can still make you laugh, even after everything, and he ducks his head, starts to head for the door.

“Joel?”

He turns, finds apprehension on your features.

He aches to set you at ease.

“Yeah?”

“Could you…would it…” You shake your head, shoulders squaring like you’re heading into a fight. “Would you want to stay? The night? With…with me.”

In a minute, he forgets it all. The pain and heartache and anger disappears with one look at your eyes.

“Yes.”

Simple–the way it’s always been between the two of you.

x

You crawl on top of him in a way he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t imagined over the years.

His hands find a resting place on either of your hips, squeeze the flesh there lightly.

“Hi,” you murmur, grin on your face.

“Hi.” He smiles.

It’s different when you’re with your soulmate.

Joel had been with others, sure.

Tess comes to mind, but he quickly shakes the thought away–along with the memory of her death.

But, every time, even when stars popped up behind his eyelids and warmth erupted through his every limb, it wasn’t what it had been with you.

The best way he could think to describe it was…more.

As you lean down, press a kiss to his lips, he finally admits to himself how much he’d missed it. You.

x

Joel feels you pull away and squeezes you closer. “Where you goin’?,” he mumbles, already half asleep.

“Shirt,” you whisper.

He shakes his head, nuzzles his nose into the hollow of your throat.

Chuckling softly, you say, “S’winter, Joel.”

He holds you even closer–if that’s possible. “I’ll keep you warm.” Then, just to tease, fingers dance over your hip bone, inches from the crux of your thighs. “Any way you want.”

“Joel…”

“Or, are you too old for this game?” He hums, getting a rise out of you too tempting to ignore. “You get soft on me while you were away?”

Your own hand–cold from it’s trip beyond the faded quilt that covers you both–dances along the soft skin of his stomach, curls around his still too sensitive length. He jumps, hisses out a breath, interest already simmering at the base of his spine.

“I can still play,” you purr. “Can you?”

Your hand works him over, languid strokes finding a pattern that makes his skin buzz.

Joel rises, mouth desperate to find yours.

He’s always liked to be kissed–especially by you, especially when you’re touching him the way you are.

You indulge him, lips parting to let his tongue tangle with your own. He can’t help but grin into the kiss.

x

In the morning, he wakes alone. Part of him isn’t shocked. Part of him is heartbroken all over again.

Quickly, he gets dressed–avoiding mirrors with the hopes of missing any evidence you’d left behind of the night before.

He goes to Tommy’s, doesn’t even look towards your house as he walks down the street.

x

“You’ve been in love before.” Tommy shrugs. “Maybe it could happen again. Nothing says you have to be with your soulmate.”

Joel hadn’t thought about it when he’d fallen in love with Sarah’s mother.

He hadn’t had much choice, if he’s honest. One look at her and he had been done for.

So, the fact she didn’t have a sunflower on the soft skin of her forearm wasn’t of much consequence. The fact she had her own tattoo–purple dahlia petals curling around her own wrist–had never mattered to her either.

They had shared a life and love and had turned that love into something that lived outside of them.

Sarah.

It was only a few months after she was born that Joel had woken up alone to the sound of Sarah’s crying.

He had adjusted, though. The two of them had made a team and found happiness all on their own.

Until…well, Joel didn’t really like to think about that day–that last day. He preferred to imagine her laughing, head thrown back in joy.

“I know,” he murmurs. He adds, almost under his breath, “I don’t think I want to fall in love. Not if it’s not with her.”

Tommy ducks his head, sheepish all of a sudden.

“What is it?”

“I promised I wouldn’t tell you.”

He leans forward, insistent. “Tommy, what is it?”

“She told Maria that she was…thinking of leaving Jackson.”

Joel is off Tommy’s couch and out the door before Tommy can ask where he’s going.

Joel suspects he knows.

x

His knocks are incessant, barely a pause between them.

“C’mon,” he murmurs to himself. “Please don’t be gone.”

The door opens, shocking Joel, and he almost falls through it.

“You can’t leave Jackson,” he pants. There’s an ache in his side, a pulling at muscles that scream with use more often than they don’t these days. He’s certain he shouldn’t have run to make sure he caught you.

You shake your head, hands coming to rest on either side of his face.

It’s a gesture full of affection and hope ignites in his gut.

“I’m not leaving,” you murmur.

Joel’s tongue is heavy, suddenly too thick to form a reply. “You…you’re not?”

“No.” Gently, your thumb rubs back and forth over his cheekbone. “I thought of something to stick around for.”

“Yeah?” Joel hums. “What’s that?”

“You.”

Joel feels the heat flush his cheeks. The emotions he really feels are too much–too real–so, he settles for a joke.

“That makes sense.” He nods. “I’m pretty unforgettable.”

“Yeah.” You laugh, duck your head for a minute before your eyes meet his again. “Yeah, you are, Miller.”

x

Later that night, with most of your closet mingled with his own, he pulls you close to him in bed. His lips ghost over your forehead and an arm wraps around your side.

He glances down at his wrist, takes in the bright yellows of the sunflower petals. With gentle fingers, he finds your wrist, brings it to his mouth and kisses the yellow of your own petals.

There’s gray in his hair, but, right now, he couldn’t feel more grateful for it.

[judeyswife]

not what i’m looking for. — jude bellingham x reader. II

genre : angst

word count : 928

note : hii lovies, this is official part two of the series not what im looking for !!! (part one) please let me know of what yall think in the comments! there will be a part 3 guys so don't worry, but it'll probs be a wrap up for this mini series since i want to get started on some other fics too + made a few format changes and writing from author's pov this time -- but thats it! enjoyyy! requests box always open !!

‏‏‎ ‎ ———————————————————-‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎

"i'm sorry"

it's horrendous how fast people switch up. or i'd say men, in this case. it's been roughly about six months since that conversation had happened. it was honestly one of the worst days in your whole life. i mean, yeah you'll get through it. but why? every once in a while you think about what did she have that you didn't.

but this is a topic that hasn't been brought up in about a month. and a certain individual isn't mentioned anymore in your life thank the lord.

you have gone to a beach house near where you live with a few of your best friends, layla, jess, and liv. yall needed this vacation after months of torture. or studying.

they've been with you since day one. truthfully you'd say who needs a relationship when you have your homegirls?

"Y/N, come here right fucking now." -- layla screamed from our room in the house.

you could literally think she had been getting murdered with the way she was screaming honestly.

"oh my god what!"

"whats his name posted a fucking video of missing someone LOOK."

who? jude.

you sit next to her curiously taking her phone from her hands in order for you to take a look at the tiktok she was trying to show you.

( for the sake of the story, jude has tiktok xoxo )

you were shocked. who genuinely who would've though that he'd actually miss us? it didn't even sound right thinking about it.

"maybe it's about her layla" you shrugged getting up to grab your water bottle from her desk.

"are you stupid girl, he's obviously thinking about you, i mean look at his caption." - 'didn't think a situationship could hurt more than an actual relationship' don't be a fool y/n"

liv and jess had entered the room a few minutes ago listening to the conversation making liv enter the conversation.

"ain't no way he has the nerve to do that bullshit on social media"

you stood there listening to them diss jude for about 5 minutes straight. but your lost in your thoughts. i mean, why would he ever miss something he supposedly never had? it's genuinely so draining and confusing.

"guys just drop it, its whatever. lets just go hang out at the hot tub, i really fucking need it"

your friends just looked at one another not saying a single word. they knew better. not to make you sound like a maniac or anything, but they knew how you were with bottling up your feelings. jude was a sensitive topic for you. they didn't want to be the cause of ruining your vacation over some dumb tiktok captions. they simply agreed with you and started getting changed to go out the the hot tub.

•

it had been a few hours since you last seen your phone and you're now inside getting ready to have dinner with the girls and settling down. so you took these few moments, unlocked your phone and checked out what you had missed.

you furrowed your eyebrows trying to figure out who this number could possibly belong to. since you and layla are sharing a room for the trip, she was getting ready at her vanity and noticed your confused expression.

"y/n what's up?" -- asking you meanwhile putting a face mask on.

"i don't know, this random number just texted me with my name i'm just hella confused"

"that's weird. ask who it is obviously"

you nodded listening to what she had advised you to do.

you had this conversation silently without saying a word to layla about who this "mystery person" was. mainly because you wanted to fight your own battles. i mean you basically already had jess and liv involved. not that your mad at them or anything, you know they want what's best for you. clearly they're on team jude. those girls.

"who was it?" layla said getting up from her chair to grab her phone from the charger near her bed. "no one important, they got the wrong number and person" you honestly don't know how she believed you. you hate to admit but you were feeling jittery after having that conversation with jude after so long. even if it was barely a conversation.

you hated that you needed to lie to layla, but you truly believed it was honestly for the best. when you and jude were talking, they knew every single detail about the relationship you had with jude. and by they i mean your friends and his friends. always involved. one of the main issues why miscommunication was lacking horribly in your relationship. so that's why you want a new beginning. not just to "lie" to your friends but to feel the sense of control in your life. even if tomorrow was the last conversation you had with jude, you wanted to keep the moment to yourself.

•

without saying a word to anyone, you and jude had been chatting it up all night. just a catch up with each other. you guys went from telling every detail of your day to each other, to not saying a single word for months to each other. it felt nice being able to slowly regain that comfort you once had when you guys would text or facetime all night long.

you were honestly praying for the best in tomorrow's conversation, you had no idea what it could lead up to.

but the overthinking was done on your pillow all night long, plus his texts of course.

[frickingnerd]

a part of you lives on in me

pairing: makoto yuki / minato arisato x gn!reader

summary: during a visit to makoto's grave, you think you're hallucinating when a certain blue haired boy appears next to you…

tags: established relationship, angst with a happy ending, reincarnated!makoto yuki, mentions of s.e.e.s. (+moving on), hurt/comfort, wholesome fluff, reader & makoto's lives are connected

“i miss you more than i thought was possible”

ever since makoto's death, you came to visit his grave every day. while the other members of s.e.e.s. often accompanied you at the start, slowly less and less tagged along with you. they were able to move on, while you weren't yet.

after all, makoto had been your boyfriend. he meant a lot to everyone, but what the two of you had was special. losing him was a pain unlike any other. a pain that never seemed to fade, only growing as time passed.

“if there's any chance for us to meet again… maybe in another life. maybe in death. then please… please, let me see you one last time.”

you were clinging onto a dream that wasn't realistic. wishing that you could see makoto again. even when you knew that it could never happen, you prayed for it every day. until eventually, your prayers were answered.

“you still come here, every day?”

a familiar voice reached out to you. for a moment, you believed it to simply be your own imagination. you didn't even turn around, as you answered:

“i'll continue to come here, every day. it's the only place where you and i can still be together…”

“you never were the type to let go that easily. you never give up, even when things seem impossible.”

there that voice was again. as you finally turned around, a boy with blue hair, covering half of his face, stood next to you, looking down at the grave.

“perhaps it was that will of yours that brought me here. or my own longing to see you again one last time…”

you stared up at the boy, frozen in place. you could barely see his face, with his hair covering up most of it. but you were sure that if you could see it, that it would be…

“makoto…?” you whispered, scared that you may be wrong. “it is you, isn't it…?”

as his head turned, a breeze hushed through the graveyard, blowing the hair out of his face. and as his face was visible to you, you could see those kind eyes of the boy you loved and lost.

“it's been a while.” makoto said with a small smile, as he sat down next to you, in front of his own grave. “i never thought i'd get the chance to see you again…”

“why are you here? are you…?”

you reached out your hand, longing to feel makoto's warmth. to see if he was real or not. yet the idea that he was just a figment of your imagination scared you too much and your hand lingered close to his own, not daring to touch him.

“i couldn't move on.” makoto confessed. “i should've made my peace with what happened. i thought i had. but a part of me still clung to life. it clung to you, wishing i could be with you again. i thought i was ready to die… but i wasn't. not when i was leaving you behind…”

“and… what does that mean for us?”

makoto carefully reached out his hand to hold yours. when they touched, you could feel how warm he was. he was real. he had to be real.

“as long as you're here, i can't move on. i can't die, when you're still keeping me alive. i suppose… i got a second chance to live. a second chance to be with you.”

it sounded too good to be true. all those months, you had wished for makoto to come back to you. yet when he did return, you couldn't believe it.

“and if i'm gone…?”

“if you die, i'll die. we're connected.”

makoto's hand squeezed your own. he could see this was a lot for you right now. your life had changed so much since his death. and now that he returned to you, it would all change again.

“makoto…?”

after a moment of silence, you turned to your boyfriend. tears lingered in the corner of your eyes and you held tight onto his hand.

“welcome back…”

makoto smiled softly, wiping away the tears of relief that began to run down your cheeks. he pressed a gentle kiss onto your lips, before whispering:

“i'm home.”

[billthedrake]

SUGAR DADDY (PART TWO)

The next day I was a little bit of a wreck. Still coming down from the high of my fantasy time with Mike Keenan. Sucking his cock. Kissing him. Enjoying the privacy and the deep conversation. I thought of texting him but decided that wouldn't be welcome. It hadn't been a date, it had ust been something that had happened. A combination of Mike taking pity on me and wanting to get his rocks off. We both got something out of it, but it was surely a one-time thing.

I had class that next morning and baseball practice that afternoon, then weightlifting. It was early evening when I got done and saw I had a text from Mike.

"Hi Luke, sorry no contact, I had a long day here. Enjoyed last night. Any chance for a repeat some time?"

My heart pounded. Maybe I was the one overthinking things. Mr. Keenan just wanted his cock sucked again.

"I'd love that," I wrote.

"Nice," came the reply. "You around to talk?"

I said good night to my buddies and told them I had to get back to study for a test. Then I texted a "yes" to Mike. A second later my phone rang.

"Hey," I said. God, I was majorly crushed out on the guy.

"Hey Luke," he said. His voice was sexy as fuck. "What are you up to?"

"Just getting out of practice. Bout to grab some dinner."

"I haven't eaten either. Want to come over? We can get dinner in the hotel bar."

"I probably need to change," I said. I was still in my workout clothes.

"I bet you look sexy as fuck," he growled. It was a trip to hear him lust for another man. "But take your time."

"Yeah, I probably shouldn't go to some fancy bar in my gym clothes."

"They don't give a fuck," he said. "But do what you feel comfortable with."

"All right," I said. "I'll text you when I'm on my way."

"Take an Uber," he said. "I'll pay."

"OK." Then I hung up. I was going to object, but I was eager to see the man. And truth be told I was hungry, real hungry. Maybe that's what made me decided to head right over, underdressed as I was.

"OK, I'm getting in my Uber," I typed to him five minutes later.

He sent a smiley face reply.

The man was in his suit, without tie, on one of the bar stools and his eyes lit up as I walked in. He had a smirk as I set down my backpack and pulled out the adjacent stool to sit. "I was right," he said softly. "Sexy as fuck."

I blushed. "I didn't think you went for guys that way," I whispered.

His blue eyes twinkled some as he patted my back. "No labels, remember?"

I was getting hard in my shorts. Unfortunately the thin fabric wasn't going to hide my boner, but fortunately, it was hidden by the bar. And my hunger was going to win out.

"The steak here is great," the man said as he handed me a menu.

"I dunno," I said as I looked over the option. "A burger is fine." Of course I was concerned about the price.

Mr. K could read me, though. "Get the steak," he grunted.

I felt a little chastised and said something I instantly regretted. "Is that how the Sugar Daddy treatment works?"

Mike gave me a quick glance then replied without missing a beat. "Buddy, you don't eye me up like a cash machine like those girls do. You don't know how nice a change that is."

I blushed and I felt his hand pat my bare thigh.

"I like that I can be honest with you, Luke, for real." His bossy tone was gone, replaced with the old Mr. Keenan charm.

I gulped. "I like being honest with you, too," I said. Until Mr. Keenan re-entered my life six months prior, I hadn't realized how rare it was I could be honest about things. I gave him a smile and saw him smile in return.

"Since I'm being honest," I started, but just then the bartender came over to take our order.

"Two steaks," Mr. Keenan said, ordering for me. "And another scotch and..." he turned to me.

"An IPA?" I asked. The bartender nodded and named off some brewery. Sounded good. We watched as he poured our drinks in front of us and placed them on the bar before going off to ring up our order.

"So..." Mike picked up. "Since you're being honest..."

I lowered my voice. "It's like I said before. You don't need to pay for anything, Mike. Or be a sugar daddy or anything."

He grinned. "There's always trade offs," he said. "And maybe I enjoy the control."

"Control?" I asked dumbly.

"If you're paying, you get your say in a lot of things," he said. He paused and watched me blush. "You think less of me."

"Honesty, right? You don't know how crushed out I am on you."

He smiled. "I have an idea. It's flattering." He took a sip of his scotch and looked over at me like a wolf eyeing up his prey. "I'm hoping you stay over tonight."

I was in over my head. Emotionally, but also with a man like Keenan. Decisive. "If you want, I will," I said.

"Good," he said, satisfied.

***

Mike Keenan surprised me that evening. After we ate and he paid the check, we went up to our room. We showered together, making out, feeling each other up. I was surprised how much this straight man was into my very male body and my cock. Well, he was probably bi and in any case had his no-labels motto. I was gonna embrace it.

Particularly as we made out on the bed, me beneath his middle aged, fit hairy body. I'd eventually find a real boyfriend, I knew, but I also knew it was going to be hard for any man to live up to hot how Mr. K was. His cock felt hard and even bigger as we humped our bodies together and kissed.

"So, Luke... you up for me being inside you?"

I nodded, hungrily. "God yeah, Mr. Keenan."

He grinned. "You have much experience?" That concern coming in.

"A couple of guys, yeah," I said. Then with deep candor, I added, "I wish you'd taken my cherry, Mike."

His voice got husky. "I've done anal a couple of times. With an ex-girlfriend."

His words made me actually break out into goosebumps. For some reason the idea of Mr. K doing some woman in the backdoor seemed kinky as fuck. But also the way he unmistakeably was communicating that he knew how to fuck me. "You liked it, I bet," I said with a lusty smile.

He nodded and winked just as he leaned up and knelt on the bed. His hardon looked magnificent, the thickness perfectly framed by his hairy, DILF-y body. I decided then and there I'd have a hard time sleeping with a man under 40. "Oh, yeah, buddy," he said. Then my body shivered again as I watched the confidence with which he picked up the lube he'd set out next to the bed. As he returned his focus, I pulled back my legs and spread them some, letting his slick hand in to lube up my hole. "It's probably my favorite thing. Hard to talk a woman into it, though."

"I can imagine," I hissed, enjoying the cool contact of the lubed finger on my ring. "I bet that costs extra huh?" Maybe that sounded accusatory, but from my tone it was clear that it was a joke, and Mr. Keenan picked up on that.

He laughed. "I don't hire hookers, but don't think I haven't thought about it." His cock jerked, and I was relieved that being with a dude seemed to work for him as much as fucking a chick.

He pressed in and worked me open some. "That feel OK, buddy?"

I looked at him excitedly and nodded. I kept expecting resistance as the man fingered me but there was none. At all. "Feels amazing Mr. K." My longtime nickname for him just slipped off my tongue, but the man seemed excited to hear it. His cock actually jerked.

He now slipped in a third finger, twisting me open and working in and out. "You're ready," he said, though I knew there was a questioning behind his assured tone.

"Yes, sir," I hissed.

Mike was horny, too, I realized as he scooted in to place and nudged his meaty cock right into place. I don't know the approach he took with women, but he angled his finger to let his prick push in just as he withdrew his hand. Kind of a shoehorn move that slid his meaty cock right into me. Three solid inches inside me in one go.

"There ya go," he said with satisfaction. Then he moved forward, his hips driving more meat into me, as he leaned his upper body forward. I was getting well and truly penetrated.

The thing was, my insides were starting their natural resistance, my guts clenching down on the invader and trying to repel it. Mr. Keenan mistook my discomfort for a natural stimulation of an ass on his cock. "That's goddamn nice, buddy," he hissed and like that he was kissing me, hard and possessively.

I met his tongue as well as I could, but there was something that clicked in me. I was a dude, a masculine dude. I didn't like to think of myself as feminine, and I got offended by the way people would associate gay sex with being feminized. And yet, I was pinned down beneath Mike Keenan and all I could think was to compare myself to those college chicks Mike banged. My hole relaxed around him and I wrapped my legs around his waist. Not slutty or anything, but damn I needed and wanted a Mike Keenan fuck.

He must have sensed the change but in any case pulled back from the kiss. "I guess I didn't even ask about protection," he hissed, his hips slowly pumping me.

"This is perfect, Mr. K," I growled. His dick was rubbing right over my prostate, not punching the button, but playing it like a violin string. It was a surprisingly new sensation for me.

The man liked my answer. He pulled back, further back, and pushed all the way. Then again. Not rushing it, but definitely claiming me with this cock. All the while his blue eyes bore down on mine. "How do you normally like it, Luke?" he asked.

I racked my brain. It was actually hard to think with the man's cock pressing in and out. And I'd only had a few experiences bottoming. "Slow, I guess," I replied. But then as I felt up the man's naked torso and strong arms, I wanted more. "But this is weird to ask... but I'd like you to show me how I like it."

THAT turned Mike on like crazy. "Yeah?" His nostrils flared. "I can do that buddy."

He pulled back and I felt his prick punch into me. In retrospect it probably wasn't rough, but I'd never been fucked with that much force. Then another. Slow, steady, and hard.

The fact that it was Rich's dad doing this drove me wild. I looked up into his handsome face and imagined him rough fucking some sugar baby who'd have to work for her apartment money.

"Shit!" I gasped. My prick was dripping already, a telltale sign that I was about to cum. I gripped it, just in time to let the pleasure boil to a full orgasm, all while Mr. Keenan pounded it out of me.

His own face was scrunching into a clear sign of pleasure. The man was ejaculating into my guts, and good.

"Well, fuck me," he sighed as he lay his forehead against mine. We lay like that, my hands on him and my legs wrapped around him. His more mature, fit body resting on top of me as he caught his breath. "Please tell me you liked that buddy," he hissed.

I felt weirdly emotional. I don't know, it wasn't just the crush I had on Mr. K. It was the hormonal rush on top of the mind fuck of having had such hot sex. "A little too much," I admitted.

That made him smile.

He finally leaned up and slid out of me, and off me. His dick was thick and plump but softening, and very wet. He looked down on me with a mix of surprise, paternal-like affection, and pride in conquest. I loved it all, and it was then that I realized I was hooked on the Mike Keenan experience.

"I thought I was pushing my luck asking you to meet me again," he said as he stepped off the bed and down some water from a water bottle. His middle-aged muscle was covered in a sheen of sweat. The man was sexy as fuck. His eyes barely left my nakedness. "But I guess not," he continued.

I felt all sorts of weird, and more than a little cheap now that the endorphins were wearing off. I sat up in bed, my hole feeling used and wet now. "You really do like being on control, don't you, Mike?"

My words caught him by surprise. "I guess I come on strong, huh?"

"A little," I admitted. "I should probably go," I said as I searched for my briefs.

"Will it make you feel better to stay over?" he asked.

It was my turn to be surprised. "You think I'm like a chick?" I asked. I wasn't sure I was upset he was stereotyping me as a gay guy. Or upset because maybe he was right.

"It's just a question, Luke," he replied. "I'll give you Uber money."

I swallowed my pride. "I'd love to stay. Sorry I was giving you grief."

He smiled. "It's fine buddy. I'm used to game playing. But you're a straight shooter. I like that." Then matter of factly, he added, "I get up early."

"That's cool," I said.

****

I gave Mr. K a blowjob early the next morning. And he stroked me off. I guess I was leaning toward being a bottom before Mike Keenan, but I'd never embraced the label. What the fuck, the man was making me realize the shoe fit.

I was happy and content all day. I kind of wanted a text from Mr. K, but I didn't need one. Even being young and naive, I knew I had to take this for what it was, or not at all.

Around 5:30 I got a text. "Dinner?"

I had a late game and plans with my buddies. "I'm tied up, Mike," I wrote. "Sorry."

"What time you done?" came that reply.

"I don't know. 10?"

"Come over then. You know the room number."

Maybe it should have rubbed me the wrong way, but it didn't. I was horny for this man. So bad.

Only after I replied with an OK, I got a Venmo alert. Mr. K had sent me money. Not an exhorbitant amount. But a lot.

Oh shit.

***

I was nervous as Mike ushered me in. The worst part was how fucking handsome he looked, even in his readers and plush hotel bathrobe. He didn't look exactly sleepy, but he seemed in a relaxed, tired state as he looked me up and down.

"Thanks for coming, Luke," he said. That easygoing charm I remember from going over to his place when I was visiting my buddy Rich.

"Sure," I said. Looking around, I wondered what it was like to live in a hotel like this a few nights a week, always being on the road. I smelled Mr. Keenan's cologne before I felt his hand on my shoulder and his warm body press against my back. Already he was kissing softly at my neck.

"Listen, Mr. K... can we talk about the money thing?"

His voice had a throaty growl. Maybe he'd been thinking all evening, all day about sex, because he seemed to be in a horny mode. "Sure. Was it not enough?"

"No, Jesus," I hissed, feeling his fingers already running beneath the hem of my T-shirt tracking my abs. "I don't need anything. For real."

OK, now his fingers stopped their seductive movement. I guess the man was getting it. "You offended?" he asked.

I blushed. "I dunno," I replied. "It didn't make me feel great."

I felt his breath against my neck. "You deserve the money more than Kimberly," he said. "Or the others. It's just a little something, Luke. Use it to have fun. Or save it for a rainy day."

I don't know how Mike Keenan was so persuasive a man, but he was. Maybe because those fingers are once again tracing up my abs and pulling my shirt with them. "Come on, buddy, let me see that hot baseball jock body," he urged.

I went with it. I knew I was good looking, and even if I had some bulking goals for the off season, I knew I had a solid body. But the fact Mr. Keenan was into it had me so turned on. I turned around to see a smile on his five-o-clock-shadowed face.

"Nice," he said, eyes sweeping up and down my build. "Lose the shorts, Luke," he said.

Mr. K had talked about enjoying being in control. I was now wrestling with the fact that I enjoyed being bossed around, at least by this man. I stepped back and undid my shorts, stripping down completely for him. I was rock hard.

My heart pounded as I watched Mike get a more serious look on his face, as his hands reached down to undo the tie on the robe. The white terry cloth flapped open to show off his furry fit torso and, beneath that, his thick boner. "Come on buddy," he said in a deep whisper, nodding down at his crotch in an unmistakable signal.

I gulped. I assumed my normal catcher's squat, a position which made my hard dick stick up at an angle.

"Fuck yeah," Mike said. He scooted up to offer me his prick. It was fat and veiny, and while not porn-long that dick was pretty damn big.

I leaned forward just an inch to start licking him. Top to bottom. Along his furry nuts. Tasting every inch of Mike Keenan. Maybe his relaxed vibe gave me the implicit permission to take my time.

Only by the time I actually began sucking him, working my mouth up and down on him and doing my best to coordinate suction and tongue along his shaft, the man was starting to get worked up.

"Easy there, buddy," he hissed, gently pushing me off his dick, which throbbed and jerked a little, wet with my saliva. "I almost blew there."

I grinned. I felt so fucking proud. I didn't have a ton of sexual experience and it was good to know I was doing something right to get Mike so close so soon. "Why don't you?" I asked, sitting back on my haunches and looking up at him. I was getting more confident in having sex with this older man.

He let out a heavy sigh, like he was fighting off the urge to do just that. A smile crossed his lips, though. "Guess I'm like a kid with a new toy," he explained.

It took me a second to get it. "You wanna fuck me again." Half statement, half question.

Mike nodded. "Been thinking about it all fucking day, man. Your ass is so fucking tight."

I knew this was a possibility, and I wondered if I should be giving my hole some rest. But I also knew it was going to be hard to turn down a Mr. Keenan fuck. I stood up, my dick riding that crest between pure excited hardness and nervous flagging.

"Ok if we kiss a little, Mike?" I asked feeling almost embarrassed to ask. "You know, make out a little?"

My buddy's dad nodded and grinned as he stepped up to me, placing his hands on my waist. "I guess I can come on strong, huh?" he asked.

God, feeling his dick press against mine and the heat and the soft-hard combo of fur and muscle against me was going to drive me wild. "Some, yeah," I admitted with a laugh. Then blushing, I added, "Part of me really likes it, but fuck it's intimidating too, you know?"

Mike didn't reply but just gave a sympathetic nod and leaned in for a soft kiss. We made out some, and it was incredible to feel the contrast between the gentle approach kissing and the mauling of his hands on my jock body, particularly my butt. Mr. K wasn't kidding about having a new toy. He seemed to really love my ass.

He walked me back to the bed and I went back down on the mattress with a motion of his that was between guiding and pushing. He quickly lost his bathrobe and joined me, covering my body with his older, more experienced one, feeling me up and kissing along my neck, my ear, my upper chest. Mike was in full-on horny mode and bring me there right with him.

Finally he lifted off and rolled to the side. His erection was dripping and rock hard and looked amazing against all that body hair. "All right buddy, get on all fours."

I was primed for Mike Keenan in full on control mode. I scrambled to do as the man asked, facing the headboard and feeling the man settle in behind me. Already his hands were cupping my glutes and feeling the smooth muscle.

"You got a hot fucking ass, Luke," he growled. He pawed at me another few seconds then reached for some lube. The first wet finger felt great, and went in pretty easy.

"You're looser today, buddy," Mike hissed. A second finger popped in.

"Yeah, probably," I responded. "After yesterday."

"I wanna keep you this way," came his deep voice. "Ready for me."

"Oh fuck, Mr. K," I whined. There was an edge to his tone that drove me wild. And as his prick pushed in, I felt a welcome pleasure, even with my residual tightness.

"Fuck yeah," Mike grunted as he felt my insides and pushed to bottom out. "Right back in the saddle."

His grip clenched roughly on my waist. Just as quickly as that thick cock pulled out, it barreled back in. And again. One hard thrust right after the other as Mr. K grunted deeply. "Ung. Ungh. Ung."

The man was fucking for his pleasure, not mine. Still I felt an excited thrill. I wouldn't say I enjoyed this nearly as much as the missionary mating the night before but it felt new to me. Animalistic and raw. I was hard even with the discomfort of the shafting.

Wham. Wham. Wham. That thick piece of hard dad meat was drilling steadily. Then the cadence went off. Mr. Keenan's rhythm was getting more spasmodic and jerky as he pounded me. Then I felt those fingers dig into my hips.

"FUCK!"

From his cry and the sudden stop of his thrusts, I knew the man was seeding me.

I loved every part of the experience, but I now regretted that I hadn't gotten off. The fuck had been too hard and too quick.

Thankfully I felt the man shift behind me and, prick still buried inside me, he leaned forward to press against, my back.

I loved the feeling of his kiss on my neck, but even more I loved the slickness of his palm as he wrapped his hand around my hardon. Mike didn't even need to do much. Just give slow soft pumps in and out of my guts while his fingers ran along my dick. I fired off, heavy and hard. I felt lightheaded when I came.

We were quiet as we uncoupled. The shame was coming back to me as I showered off. Shame that I enjoyed what others might see as a dominant, selfish fuck. Shame that there were funds in my Venmo account. Shame that I was falling for Mr. Keenan so hard. I knew I couldn't stay over in this hotel room, not tonight. I needed some space to think.

Mike had his robe back on. To this day a white terry bathrobe is a fetish for me. His tone was more serious. "You mad at me Luke?" he asked as he sat in the hotel chair and watched me get dressed.

I grimaced but shook my head no. "I didn't think I'd like sex that rough," I said softly.

I could see a sly grin from on his lips. But he continued. "I wasn't talking about the fuck."

God, the man could be intense, behind the suave businessman outgoingness and the friendly paternal vibe. It was like I was seeing the real Mr. Keenan. Intimidating, sure, but I also wondered if he had a hard time with real relationships. His marriage hadn't worked out, he was clearly estranged from his son, and he basically hired dates instead of having real girlfriends.

I paused, just holding the T shirt I was going to put back on. "Can I be blunt, Mr. K? You say you don't want a hooker, and yet have a way of treating me like one."

He was prepared for that. "You're not that, Luke. But I'm not ready for anything serious. I figure I can help you out, and you can help me out." He looked at me and could tell I still didn't get it. "Listen, it's not just sex. I love spending time with you buddy. You're a hell of a lot more fun than those sugar babies, I'll tell ya." He cracked a smile, and I had to as well.

"I guess," I said. Remembering Kimberly, I could imagine she'd be more work than fun.

My conciliatory tone made him happy, and I was glad to see the friendly Mr. Keenan return. "Well, it's just I don't always have the time or interest for all the other boyfriend bullshit. Checking in, looking after emotional needs, dealing with jealousy."

I gulped. I was starting to get a better picture of Mike. The side Rich hated. The side I should hate more.

He watched my reaction but continued. "I know that wouldn't be fun for you to deal with, so I want to make it worth your while."

"Make what worth my while?" I asked. Again, as persuasive as he was, I felt he kept talking around the sex part.

He laughed, almost amused at how astute I was. "Luke, I'm not going to pay you per sex act. Or per night. But..." his voice got conspiratorial. I wondered if he knew what that supportive dad-figure tone did for me, and just weaponized it to get his way. Honestly I think it just came naturally to him. "Well, bud, I'd love an arrangement when you're able to keep me company when I'm in DC." His blue eyes got an impish cast to them, and I knew he was in seal-the-deal mode. "I'm pretty sure we could have a lot of fun together."

"You wanna be my sugar daddy?" I asked, point blank. It's not that I was dumb, but I actually didn't think Mr. Keenan was outright going there.

He nodded. But his face had a caution to it. "Would it better if we ditched the labels?" he asked, a smirk on his face reminding me of his own no-labels policy.

"It would," I answered. Then. "OK if I think on it, Mike?"

"Of course," he said.

He stood up as I finished putting on my shoes. Seeing how handsome he was I almost asked if I could stay over again. But the vibe wasn't right for that.

As I made my way to the room door, Mr. K patted my shoulder. "You're a fine young man, Luke," he said. His fingers gave my muscle a little squeeze before letting go. "I mean that."

"Thanks, Mr. Keenan," I said.

***

The Uber ride was quick at that time of night. I'd have to come up with an excuse to my roommate while I was out again. I'd probably have to come up with a lot more excuses if I hung out more with Mr. K. Or, if he got me my own apartment, things would be easier. Meeting up with him. Having sex with him.

I pulled out my phone. I thought I'd hesitate before sending but I knew I knew my answer.

"You'll have to let me know how it works Mr. K," I texted. "But I'm in."

No labels. But if Mike Keenan was going to call himself my sugar daddy that was probably OK too.

I got a quick reply. "That makes me happy Luke. Talk tomorrow sexy."

I felt warm inside. Mike Keenan was going to make this worth my while. But I was determined to make it worth his, too.

[komotionlessqueenmm]

Imagine # 1,062

Gif NOT mine.

Year posted - 2024

Rating - SFW

Reading time (roughly) - 5 minutes

I've been playing a bunch of the Ghostbusters game, and it honestly drives me crazy how messy it is at the firehouse. So this imagine way born from that pet peeve of mine. Enjoy. :)

Walking up to the second floor of the firehouse, (Y/n) sat down her bag, looking around the large room she sighed softly. The place was a mess, as always. She understood perfectly well why the place wasn't always clean, they guys were busy, always busy. Especially after Peck shut down the containment unit, and released all the ghosts they had captured over the past few months. Walking into the kitchen and dining area, she began picking up loose trash and tossing it into the nearby trashcan. The trash was nearly half full to begin with, and after a few minutes of working, it was totally full. She pulled the bag out of the bin, tied it up, and sat it aside.

As she was putting a new bag into the bin, the boys came wandering up the stairs. Funny she hadn't even heard them pull in downstairs. They all greeted her tiredly as they passed by, going straight to their quarters. (Y/n) continued to clean up the littered trash, and the expired food from the fridge. A short while later, Ray come back into the common room. His hair still dripping from his shower. The others having showered and gone straight to bed. "You know you don't have to do all of this (Y/n)." Ray said as he assisted in gathering up the dirty dishes. "Well I am an assistant, and I assist where I'm needed." She smiled softly at her favorite ghostbuster.

"Yeah I guess, but this is our mess." He shrugged, smiling bashfully. "I'm happy to help Ray, besides you guys have your hands full as it is. Speaking of which, go to bed, I've got this covered." She insisted as she took the dishes from his hands, placing them beside the sink, and then preparing the water. "No I'm alright, let me help." He argued, standing beside her stacking the dishes accordingly. "Ray you've been working all day, and you're exhausted. Go get some rest." She smiled at him, playfully bumping her shoulder into his. "I'm not going anywhere." He stated in a playfully serious tone. "You're stubborn, you know that?" She smiled at him, but stopped arguing over the matter any further.

"People usually say that about Peter." Ray joked, effectively making (Y/n) snort with laughter. "Yeah and he definitely is, but apparently so are you." She mused, making him smile. "I wash and rinse, you dry and put them away?" (Y/n) offered as she set to work on scrubbing the dishes. "I think I can manage that." Ray hummed as he retrieved a clean dishtowel. "Well I sure hope so, we've got plenty to do here." She teased as she began rinsing the first sink of dishes. Once the dishes were finished, they picked up the last bits of trash, swept the floor, and then began hauling the trash bags out to the dumpster out back. "I'll get some groceries tomorrow morning." (Y/n) stated as they hauled out the last two bags.

"I'll go with you." Ray added as he tossed his bag in the dumpster, he then took (Y/n)'s and threw it out as well. "You don't have to do that, I can manage alright." She blushed lightly as Ray held open the door open for her. "I know... But I want to." Ray smiled bashfully, following her back upstairs. "Well in that case, I'd love the company." She mused as they stood at the top of the stairs. "Now you should go to bed, you need some sleep." She stated as she grabbed her bag. "I'd rather spend some more time with you." Ray admitted, his cheeks turning a light shade of pink. "And do what Dr. Stantz?" (Y/n) asked as she peered at him, their chests nearly touching from how close she'd moved towards him.

"M-maybe get some dinner? I-I haven't actually eaten since lunch." Ray stammered a little, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. "Home cooked, or takeout?" She asked. "Considering how late it is, how about takeout?" He asked, trying to sound relaxed, but looking anything but. "Sounds like a date, come on you can stay with me tonight, wouldn't want to disturb the guys." She smiled as his blush depend. "A d-date?" Ray stammered again, following her back downstairs. "If you want it to be." (Y/n) turned to him on the landing of the stairs. "I-I." He cleared his throat. "Do you want it to be?" He asked, again trying to act casual. "I'd love nothing more." She admitted, blushing a bit herself.

"Really!?" Ray beamed in visible excitement, again clearing his throat and trying to play it cool. "I mean... Then it's a date." He smiled charmingly, making (Y/n) giggle softly. "Good." She mused, leaning towards his face to kiss his cheek. Ray blushed deeper, following after her like a lovesick puppy. "Do you think..." Ray trailed off as they walked to (Y/n)'s car. "What is it Ray?" She asked curiously. "Would you maybe want to go on an actual date sometime? Like to a restaurant." He asked. "How about a picnic in the park? Restaurants are always so busy, and a picnic is more intimate." (Y/n) countered. "A picnic... Yeah that sounds really nice." Ray smiled at the thought. "Saturday maybe?" She offered, making Ray beam at her again. "It's a date." He hummed happily.

Buy me a coffee sometime? ☕️

(Click the coffee for my Kofi link, IT'S NOT NECESSARY BTW.)

[voidedaurora]

Apologies for the ask about the 🍉 thing.

If you have a story to say you should say it, the group who made the document thought it was important to make it public. Maybe you can reach out to them if you need help. It’s never too late to share your story if you believe the person deserves to be called out.

She’s already known for lying. And she never addressed a lot of the things in the document. Like those multiple false grooming allegations. Just remember that there’s no backing out once you have it out to the public. Once on the internet always on the internet.

Hope you’re ok. Don’t be intimidated because of fans. They don’t know what you’ve gone through. You have a support group who already set the ground for you. Good luck with what you choose.

Not specifically replying to this ask but Im going to use this to say a bit of what I need to say. Follow up to my last post, Mel has made it clear that she is not going to talk to me, one of her friends dmed me (one of the two I mentioned prior) trying to get me to vc with all 3 of them to get "closure" and talk about things, this was only prompted by the fact I am now speaking out about this (clearly just trying to save face), I stayed silent for nearly 3 months giving her time to come and talk to me and it was honestly the last nail in the coffin for her to clearly only give a shit now that I'm speaking about it. So I'm done, I'm not going to keep any of her shit to myself anymore, I know I shouldn't have been keeping them to myself to begin with and I completely accept anyone who is upset at me for not speaking up sooner. Quickly, I will say that some of this I cannot provide solid proof for, you will all have to take some of this with a side of salt / use context to come to your own conclusions, but I still think its important to mention because I know what I saw and experienced, It is up to you whether you believe what I have to say or not Aswell, Some of this obviously could be wrong as she has refused to clear things up privately but I believe them to be true since I experienced what I experienced :/. I do not condone Harassment, witch-hunting, threats, attack anyone involved, or anything else of the sort You obviously may be honest about your feelings on the matter but have your morals about you when doing so. People that did not consent to being mentioned here will be censored when possible I will be reffering to Quartelz as Mel in this, just felt I'd clarify TW: S/A, Coercion, Grooming(?), General Toxicity, etc.

Firstly, To everyone who supports Mel after the google doc she "made" I've got some unfortunate news to share, She did not write that doc. Mel had quite a few of her friends at the time essentially write the entire document for her, I was one of those people. To clarify, we were not forced but since we all wanted the best for her and for her to be able to move on from it all so we all helped her. The apologies ESPECIALLY she did not write nor mean, She has stated many times to me personally that everyone did not deserve an apology, I will provide some screenshots backing up these claims below Others writing the doc/Proof I can edit the original doc (the public document was moved into a fresh file because I suggested it)

Proof of Mel being an unapologetic asshole about the whole thing (sorry for the rudeness) Her saying "how to write an apology I don't mean" which Is pretty self explanatory, Included more context of the convo so she cant scream at me for not, AS you can see I was very insistent on her writing the apology because I did think they all deserved one, aswell me saying "I'd write it for her but that'd "I would literally write the apology for u but that'd be bad" Which is bad on my end 100% especially because I went through with that, I accept full responsibility for that and I am sorry, you all deserved better

More apology stuff bruhh

(so sorry archi I know you are mentioned here alot but I need you for proof, If anyone attacks you I am so so sorry) Admitting the apology wasn't written by her directly + re-stating she didn't mean the apology a million times and not taking any accountability

Bonus SS of talking with one of her friends at the time about our frustrations of helping her with the doc only for her not to work on it I think that's enough proof she didn't mean a lick of that doc and didn't even write it herself, I do NOT have proof that I specifically wrote the apologies but before the doc was sent out to the public I practically rewrote entire areas to make her sound more genuine aswell fixed the entire thing up, then I had her go over it and edit it to "sound like her" Time for the next part which is one of the more serious topics within this whole thing, I initially was NOT going to bring this to the public or mention it at all since its fairly private but after thinking on it really hard ,and the fact this will never have any closure Clover and I have decided to let you all know about it, I am sure she's going to be quite upset this is public now but she shouldn't have done any of it in the first place. TW:// S/A and Coercion I don't really know how to approach talking about this but around the 30th of march 2023 (before and after) Clover, Mel, And I had all gotten pretty close as friends, This eventually evolved into us having sexual interactions with each other as a group twice. At the time we had all had lengthy conversations making sure everyone was ok with it, the whole consent protocol and such. Edit: for the record, our age differences at the time were me: 16 (10/16/2006) Clover: 17 (3/03/2006) Mel: 17 (8/30/2005) This is relevant because a while back (I am not sure when) Mel had admitted to me one day that she had only slept with Clover to do things with me. I know for a fact she will deny this. This obviously horrified me and clover both because we were under the impression it was a mutual thing between all of us, I'm sure Clover feels violated, used, and a sleuth of other things, I feel absolutely terrible about the entire thing because I was the one who had helped her feel comfortable with the whole thing in the first place and convinced her it was something mutual, and to have Mel later on admit it was not and she just wanted an excuse to do shit with me is absolutely disgusting. Clover and I are both extremely damaged from this and neither of us ever got an apology for this and probably never will, not one that she means at least, shes already proven she doesn't feel remorse for anything she does. You'd think the person that allegedly got assaulted herself and had dealt with homewrecking related things herself wouldn't do something like this but here we are. (Just clarification this was a 3 way, sorry to have to blatantly state it but I didn't want any confusion. Aswell I'd like to state for the record that the interactions happened twice total) I will not be sharing proof of any of this as it would include sharing sensitive information/conversations I don't think any of us would be comfortable being public, You may take this as you will but Clover and I both are living proof of this happening and I just hope you'll take our word for this one as it was already obvious Mel had a thing for me to literally everyone around us, I genuinely do not think I need proof to prove that part alone. There was another section I was going to add explaining another situation but I do not have enough proof gathered to speak on it at the moment so I'll keep it at these two for now. I initially wasn't going to make a big post like this but I wanted to get the stuff I know 100% out there (aswell wanted to get some of the worst out of the way :/) There is absolutely MORE I could/want to talk about but I simply do not have the context/proof to make a proper statement on it at the moment, maybe in the future I will.

also, if any of ya'll need more proof of stuff I CAN dig but I think I got it all covered? That's it for now, She's either going to deny everything, have her friends to defend her, flee the internet, or retaliate. Have a good day ya'll, I am done staying quiet for her also I'm so so sorry if this isn't written well in certain parts, I don't really know how to make stuff like this

[leclerc-s]

track 002. clean

 ─── ❝ gone was any trace of you, I think I am finally clean ❞  ───

series masterlist // previous //next

zoya can remember when she got the first letter. she was 8 and in 3rd grade, the teacher announced they would be getting pen pals. zoya had no clue what that meant but it sounded so cool, she went home and told her mom all about it that day. the next day her teacher had placed a hat in front of her and her classmates telling them it would be luck. zoya had crossed her fingers she would get a girl her age, instead she nearly cried when she saw the words logan, florida.

she wrote a small letter introducing herself and silently hoped he would never reply, she didn't want to talk to a boy. maybe if logan didn't reply she would get a new pen pal and maybe it would be a girl. but it would be just her luck that he would reply, she left the letter unopened until her dad almost ripped it, that was when she jumped and opened it. logan seemed nice, but all he did was talk about cars and formula 1. it wasn't zoya's biggest interest but she had talked about her american girl dolls her entire letter. for some strange reason, that she still couldn't explain, zoya had replied and the two struck up a good friendship.

logan may have been across the country but he quickly became her best friend. one of his last physical letters had been him begging for an email address to talk to her because he would be living in the uk for a long time, he didn't know if he would come back to live in states. zoya had pleaded with her mom to let her have an email, and when she caved, the communication with logan was non-stop. of course he always talked about formula 1 but now there was a boy named oscar added into the mix, and he NEVER shut up about him. if zoya hadn't heard of the many girls logan had crushed on she would've thought he was in love with oscar.

zoya torres talks about pen pals, drivers license, and formula one

posted march 2021

comments

username it's so cute that zoya's still friends with her old pen pal.

↳ username right? i stopped talking to my old pen pal when i was 10.

username this isn't weird at all zoya. it's so cute!

username love that the majority of the interview was zoya talking about her pen pal.

username love that she took every opportunity to call this man a basic white boy.

username how many facts does she know about formula one. like how many things did this guy tell her and they just stuck?

↳ username not very many, she said so herself towards the end of the interview. they also don't talk much these days because of her career and his career path is also demanding.

lando norris i spiraled and watched a bunch of zoya's interviews, so zoya, who's your penpal?

zoya torres HOW FAR BACK DID YOU GO?

natalia ruiz aww you have a penpal? that's so cute.

oscar piastri logan has a penpal to

logan sargeant traitor

freya vettel that's cute. how long have you two had your penpals for?

logan sargeant since i was 10 zoya torres i was 8

daniel jones-ricciardo holy shit, that's so fucking cute.

bailey winters fun fact: hope ur okay was inspired by zoya's penpal because they briefly fell out of touch back in 2020

zoya torres traitor

isabella perez I LOVE THAT SONG!

ollie bearman no, you just like crying to sad music isabella perez ollie shut the fuck up

freya vettel i caught her crying to tolerate it the other day

mae jones her dickhead ex showed up in miami, and she's allowed one sad song per day

zoya torres therapy helps!

isabella perez I DON'T NEED THERAPY!!

mick schumacher i needed therapy after the whole haas thing. sebastian vettel you didn't even go mick. you cried over a pint of ice cream for 2 hours mick schumacher but theoretically, i needed therapy. max verstappen i'd need therapy after dealing with maze-spin as my teammate

charles leclerc zoya has corrupted my daughter.

daphne jones-ricciardo she's 4 months old charles, there's nothing about her to corrupt natalia ruiz he means she can't sleep unless there's music playing.

charles leclerc i regret ever letting zoya live with us.

freya vettel that's bullshit and we all know it.

logan sargeant i don't see a problem, charles plays the piano??

natalia ruiz she can't sleep unless it's seven.

max verstappen I TOLD YOU I SHOULD'VE BEEN GODFATHER BUT NO YOU HAD TO GO WITH BITCHIARDO!! daniel jones-ricciardo fuck you verstappen

mae jones they only went with daniel because they wanted daphne as godmother...

natalia ruiz not true, it was either pierre or daniel because i got to pick little jewel's godmother.

pierre gasly IT COULD'VE BEEN ME?! charles leclerc but then you got drunkenly married in vegas and i knew daniel was the right choice

rowan todd that shit's going to haunt us for the rest of our lives

zoya torres digital footprint haunts you forever.

mae jones we should know zoya torres ooh let's not go there

lando norris i'm nosy, so how exactly did you two become friends?

zoya torres interesting question. i'm not answering. i like mystery.

mae jones ooh i agree!

lando norris boo!

zoyatorres posted new stories

forza ferrari something like that.

praying i don't get lost again. i do not need a repeat of miami

red boots to support dad, a gift from daniel in case you weren't sure. we should've saved them for austin.

liked by nataliaruiz, isabellaperez, maejones and others

zoyatorres i'm embracing the ferrari lifestyle at this point

view all comments

user07 every time she's posted charles she's made fun of him and i love that.

↳ zoyatorres someone needs to humble il predestinato and it's gonna be me!

freyavettel it sucks you in zoya, you have no choice but to let it swallow you whole.

↳ zoyatorres see i thought you were all joking, but you're not.

isabellaperez i demand pic credits for that one picture of you!

↳ zoyatorres my bad 📸 to zoya for the second picture!

charles_leclerc WHEN DID YOU GET IN MY CAR??

↳ zoyatorres te-he

↳ isabellaperez crimes were committed mr. leclerc

user87 the commitment to making fun of charles is everything to me

user99 nah cause my mind still can't wrap my head around zoya becoming friends with charles fucking leclerc

user19 she looks so good in red

lilymhe she's an icon

↳ zoyatorres marry me. i'll be a better wag for you than alex could ever be.

↳ alex_albon i will fight you torres. i am not afraid to resort to physical violence

↳ zoyatorres i could take you

maejones pretty girl ❤️

↳ zoyatorres call me ms. steal yo girl because i'm coming for every driver's girlfriends and wives. ricciardo-jones, you're next

↳ danieljricciardo what the hell did i ever do to deserve this?

↳ zoyatorres marry daphne fucking jones

↳ user28 she's so valid for that

user32 she looks so much happier these days and i don’t know what it is.

↳ user80 right? she dumped her ex an instantly became so happy.

↳ user51 not to mention she’s probably got all her frustrations and anger out when she was writing her new album

↳ user32 good for her, she deserves to be happy

↳ user51 facts, zoya deserves all the happiness in the world

taglist: @burningcupcakefire @arkhammaid @sunflower-golden-vol6 @applopie @lorarri @mypage-myfandoms @bb-swift @thewannabewriter @you-bleed-just-toknowyouarealive @stopeatread @hobiismyhopeu @lilsiz @alessioayla @niniluvsainz @au-ghosttype @cowboylikemets1989 @justtprachisblog @rmeddar123 @nichmeddar @landonorizzz @unluckyyoshi @Mimolovescookies @brekkers-whore @natcha888 @camdensreg @mycenterfold @dear-fifi @prongsvault @kaa212 @anxxiousaries @julesbabey1 @julesbabey @georgeparisole @Smnthnclj @dan3avocado @melissayalene @nothanqks @nikfigueiredo @bella-1 @namgification @jensonsonlybutton @chezmardybum @d3kstar @weekendlusting @ragioniera

strikethrough means i couldn't tag you

¡leclerc-s speaks! this one’s more of a filler but it does give you an insight on how logan and zoya became pen-pals. which i think is cute, so it's okay that this one is a filler.

¡disclaimer! this is in no way making assumptions about the people involved in this story, this is all fake. it is a fanfiction please don't take any of what is said seriously. this is all for entertainment purposes and as a creative outlet for me. enjoy!

[sootical]

Permanence

->Wilbur Soot x Reader (hinted but never explicitly stated) ->No use of Y/n ->I tried to be as gender neutral as possible.

*Hurt, minimal comfort, hopeful ending TW: Su*cidal ideation, Self destructive thoughts and actions, SH mentions/references, depression, lots and lots of depression. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK Summary: You are stuck in a multi-month long depressive episode, and it's gotten so much worse. You're on your last leg, and you need someone to help you. Good thing best friend(?) Wilbur and his band are there to help :] Word Count - 2.4k

Wilbur Soot. Twitch streamer turned famous musician, heartthrob—you get it. He’s everything anyone could want in a partner. Trust me, I would know. He’s been my best friend since form. And since then, he’s only ever been kind and considerate and just overall an amazing person. What a guy right? With his stupid brown hair that covers one of his eyes when it’s outgrown. Stupid brown eyes that have just the right amount of dark and light brown in them. It’s stupid of me really, to ever hope for a future with him that involves us being more than friends. I can only hope though, right? He’s up there, in the states, singing his heart out on a stage. While I’m stuck, on the other side of paradise–more like purgatory–lamenting on how many people adore him. I’m feeling sorry for myself, rotting away in bed at 2 in the morning. It’s not like I have to work in three hours–whaaaat nooooo… A knot develops in my stomach at the mere thought of leaving my bed. Maybe losing my job isn’t so bad. Wilbur has told me time and time again he’d pay me to edit for him. But I could never make him do that. Never would I take advantage of him like that. I’d feel like more of a burden than I already do. The thought of him having to support me financially makes me want to vomit. It makes my skin crawl, so it’s okay if I waste away. If I end up rotting away in my bed. It’s fine. At least then I wouldn’t be able to consume too much of Wilbur’s time. Taking up too much of his time has always been my biggest fear. To me, it came true a long time ago and I’m finally reaping what I sowed. It sucks really, how I thought I'd have a shot. Just for it all to blow up in my face. Now he’s somewhere in America–having the time of his life. Good for him. Bad for me.

Reaching over, I grab my phone. My coworkers probably hate me. I keep asking them to cover my shifts so I can rot in bed for another day. It’s been like this since–September? It started off just once every few weeks. Now, it being almost December, I’ve not gone to work in over two weeks. What’s the point anymore anyways? I can’t do this. I can’t do anything. Deep down, when I started doing things for myself–I knew I wouldn’t be able to do this. That was two years ago. I guess I’m finally breaking.

Pulling the duvet over my head, I try not to think about how my breath smells, and the uncomfortable way the oil sticks to my face. I shove my head into the pillow. Trying to block out the sounds of people existing below my apartment. It’s so much easier to rot away when people don’t rely on you. When you have no reason for existence. I don’t want to die. But at the same time I don’t want to live. I’m too much of a coward to do anything about it, so I lay and wait. I wait for some omnipotent being to strike me down and judge me for how I’ve managed to mess up any and all relationships I’ve ever had with anyone. Me and Nikki haven’t spoken in almost a year. Me and Wilbur haven’t even seen each other in months My family doesn’t talk to me.

I wish I could say “The world is fucked and everyone hates me.” But that’s not the truth. The truth is I am my own undoing. I have destroyed everything I’ve worked for. Any relationships–platonic and romantic–have fallen through because of my own emotions and insecurities getting in the way. It’s not fair for anyone. Well, anyone except for me. I brought this upon myself. My phone is the only thing lighting up my face. I looked at the time. Suddenly it’s six in the morning, and I’m late for work. The thought makes me want to cry, but I can’t. I can’t tell if it’s apathy—or dehydration. 

I call my boss. She answers. “Where are you?! I haven’t seen you in weeks! I’m worried about you hun, do you need me to call someone?” She opens, sounding both relieved and shocked I even called. I clear my throat the best I can, swallowing saliva feels like eating sandpaper. “I uh..I was calling to let you know I won’t be coming back. I’m quitting. And I’m sorry for not putting in my two weeks. It’s not–” Something foreign is bubbling up in my throat, I force myself to swallow it down. “-It’s not fair to you. And I’m sorry.” I whisper, hanging up shortly after.

I feel terrible for worrying her. I feel terrible for upsetting her. I feel terrible. I am terrible. I’m a parasite. I always have been. Mooching off of others in order to help myself get by. My thoughts fall back to Wilbur. I’ve been mooching off of him for however long we’ve been friends. I want him to be happy. I don’t want him to feel like he needs to be my friend to keep me alive. But at the same time–I can’t do this anymore. I can’t look myself in the mirror and tell myself it’s me. I can’t. I’m not the person I thought I’d become. I’m not the person I thought I was. I’m useless. My phone rings again. I go to decline it, I can’t. 

Wilbur’s face greets me. His contact photo, the two of us at the amusement park I helped them film for Tommy’s vlog channel. We’re smiling. His arm over my shoulder, and my head on his arm. I remember that day. Wilbur held me for a bit while Tommy and Phil were off filming a different part of the vlog with Russ. I was overwhelmed and so was he, so we took the time to chill by the snack stands. He got tommy cotton candy, and we split popcorn even though he couldn’t really taste it. We spent a good time just taking funny pictures with each other. I remember that day, it was a great one.

Tears breach my eyes before I can stop them. A sob ripping through me, I force my face into the pillow to muffle it. The ringing stops. My tears don’t, and that makes me feel so much worse. My chest convulses as my sobs reverberate through the room. I’m a mess. I’m laying in my bed, rotting. Wasting away and feeling sorry for myself. Everything is terrifying, every breath I take reminds me of how I’m alive. Reminds me of how I can’t escape the feeling of impending doom that washes over me. I’m going to die here. I’m going to die. I was never permanent. 

I knew I couldn’t do this. I’ve been lying to myself, little lies, white lies. To convince myself everything was okay. That it was fine for me to fall in love, it was fine for me to believe I wasn’t just taking up space. That I wasn’t slowly getting tired. 

Contemplating whether or not cut myself some slack–but ending up just cutting myself loose. I lift the duvet from my head, staring at the ceiling. My eyes flick to the ground, clothes and food everywhere. Some of it’s moldy. It makes me feel worse about myself. Turning my head, I look to my PC. I should sell it. Someone else would be much happier with it. I haven’t used it in a while anyways. I can’t take care of any of the stuff I have can I? 

My phone rings again, this time I do answer. 

“Oh my god–” I hear multiple people take a sharp breath in. I can’t stop myself from making a small noise of confusion. “Hey..Your boss–called us.” I recognize the voice to be Joe. I lift the phone, checking the caller ID. It was Wilbur again. “Wil—?” It hurts so bad to talk, I haven’t used my voice this much since the end of October. I hear a choked noise and whispers. “We’re gonna—come over there okay? The tour ended last night, no gigs for a while. Wil’s been missing you y’know.” I can’t tell who said that, “I–no. Sorry.” I don’t know why I said that. I don’t know why I hung up either.

Maybe deep down I did want them to help, I do want their help. But logically–It’s for the best.

I swing my legs over the side of my bed, cringing at how my clothes hang off of me. My back hurts something awful. I’m so tired. 

Yet I stand on two feet and walk to my bathroom. I look at myself in the mirror, I don’t recognize them. My hair–too long and too oily for it to be mine. My skin is pale and the bags under my eyes are so dark they could rival a racoon. 

It’s then that my legs decide to give out. I can feel my knees split as I hit the tile. I’m so tired. I look down at the sweater I’m wearing. It’s one of Wil’s. I can’t remember when I put it on. I can’t remember a lot of things recently. Like when this got so bad. Or when my arms started to sting. My eyes are heavy, I can barely keep them open. Maybe a nap wouldn’t be so bad.

When I wake up it’s to voices around me. I’m laying on something warm–It’s moving. I can’t find it in myself to open my eyes. My breathing picks up, and I hear an intake of air accompanied by a hand on my forehead. My eyes are shooting open in fear before I’m trembling. He’s above me, looking down at me like I could break.

I look around, there's two other people. I can barely make them out. Joe and Ash. It’s hard to think. It’s so hard to think. 

“There you are..” Wilbur whispers, his pointer finger gently stroking my cheekbone. “What happened to you love?” I can’t tell if it’s his tone, or the fact he looks so broken. But I can’t stop my eyes from watering and my body from turning into him, hiding myself away. Embarrassment filled me, they’d seen it all. The moldy food, the dirty clothes. They probably saw the abundance of mail I'd gotten as well. People are walking out the room. Not Wilbur, he stays. He stays and makes me look at him. “Here’s what’s gonna happen, I’m gonna help you shower, and they’re going to clean and get you food. Okay?” My eyes widened. I shake my head so quickly it hurts. His face falls, he looks down at what I’m wearing. His face falls even more. “Love…” He whispers. “I don’t–I can’t. Don’t make me.” I whisper. Wilbur wipes away my tears and shakes his head. “No. You’re going to get clean, eat, and then you will sleep for however long you need to.” He lifts me like I’m nothing.

He sets me on the toilet, turning to the tub and turning on the faucet. He waits for it to get warm before he’s plugging the drain and helping me get undressed. He brushes the hair from my face, he frowns at the sight of the back of my head. He looks down at my arms before I can see him clenching his jaw. “We’ll work on the matts too.” He picks me up again, placing me in the tub and going to shut the door. He grabs a towel from the cabinet, as well as a washcloth. He swipes the comb from the counter.

“I’m sorry.” I can’t help but whisper. He sighs. “I know. But it’s alright. We were worried about you.” Was all he said before he’s dousing my hair in water. He keeps a hand on my forehead, stopping the water from getting into my eyes. And with that, he applies conditioner and starts to de-matt my hair. An hour and countless tub refills later, my hair is de-matted and I’m clean. Feeling slightly better too. Wilbur gave me the crewneck he was wearing for comfort, before planting a kiss on my forehead and leaving the room to grab other clothes. The sounds from the outside are a lot less foggy now. I can hear the boys outside bickering and talking. “Are they okay Wil?” “What happened?” “From your face, I can tell it wasn’t good.”

I can’t help but stand weakly, the towel wrapped around me. I look in the mirror. I look a little more like myself. I touch my face, I look pale. I am pale. My hair is a bit longer now. I don’t smell bad anymore. I do feel better, but I can’t help but think I’m making Wilbur do this.

Wilbur reappears, he looks at me and smiles. He hands me the clothing he picked out before leaving the room once again, though he stands just outside the door.

I dress quickly. Slipping on Wilbur’s crewneck once I have my shirt on. I walk out, giving Wilbur a small smile. “You uh–You didn’t have to do this.” He takes my hand and leads me through my now clean apartment. “I did. Because if I didn’t–If we didn’t, you’d be dead right now, or you’d have killed yourself soon.” He says, sitting me down at the table that’s been cleared off. “Now, be honest. When is the last time you remember eating something?” He asks. 

My face drops. That’s the thing–I can’t. “Uh–Tuesday?” I say, like I even know what day it is, his face falls. “It’s Friday.” He deadpans before going into the kitchen, he comes back with Ash, Mark, and Joe. They each have both in their hands. Wilbur has two.

“It’s just soup. Easy on the stomach.” Joe pipes up before sitting on my right, Wilbur sits on my left, and Ash and Mark sit across from me. “We don’t need to talk about things right now, no one is going to make you. But you need to talk to someone soon. Maybe not us, but someone.” Wilbur said, putting his hand on my knee. “Yeah. I think I can do that.” They smile, I eat my soup, and for the first time since September–I feel permanent.