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strang3lov3 · 1 month ago

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A Favor

You’re on your period and needy. Roman takes advantage. (4k)

Tags - stepdaddy!roman, unprotected piv, period sex, free bleeding, nipple stim and titty play, dirty talk, creampie, blow jobs, fingering, daddy kink, aftercare that healed something in me, needy reader, typical Roman sexism, weird mix of roman being manipulative and dominant and condescending but tender and soft all at the same time,,,don’t give me that look. Fic Help - @endlessthxxghts and @ovaryacted thanks for your eyeballs! A/N - Let’s just indulge ourselves, okay? Let’s have daddy romey do a little bit of manipulating and teasing before fucking us while we’re bleeding our guts out.

Stepdaddy!Roman Masterlist

It’s midday and you’re finally showering. After lying in bed for a little too long, you did a workout in the home gym Roman had built for his home - just a little walking on the treadmill, some stretching too. You felt a little crappy, so you kept it light. You wash and condition your hair and then scrub your body, letting the hot, steady stream of water soothe all of your aches. After this, you’ll probably nap. It’s the perfect day for it, after all. Dark and overcast, a little rainy. You’ll waste the day away in bed, listening to the distant sound of What We Do In The Shadows playing quietly on your TV as you doze in and out of sleep.

After shutting off the water, you reach for your towel and begin to dry off, squeezing the water out of your hair, patting beads of water off of your skin with the terry cloth. When you take the towel off of your body to hang back up, you notice splotches of red on the fabric where you dried the area between your thighs. Well, that explains why you’ve been feeling under the weather.

You look in the cabinet under your sink for a pad or tampon or something. You’ve got a hair dryer and a diffuser attachment that doesn’t match it, cleaning supplies, expired Bath & Body Works sprays, but no menstrual products, which makes sense. You tend to overbuy, thinking you won’t need to buy again for a while. And so you don’t, but you burn through supplies quicker than you ever anticipate. It’s not the first time this has happened.

You pause your shower playlist on Spotify and check your purse first - surely you’ve got some year-old tampon in there, probably covered in granola bar crumbs and melted lip balm. Nothing. You gave that last tampon to a stranger in a public bathroom last week. You call your mother next, but you’re met with no answer, leaving you with one last option: Roman.

Do you really wanna call him right now while he’s at work? And have him make fun of you, or call you dramatic? Or worse yet, make some sick and perverted jokes? You’ve been trying to put distance between yourself and him, and the last thing you need is to invite any more opportunities for him to have his way with you. But then, what other choice do you have? You know that day one of your period you can’t exactly get away with a bunch of toilet paper rolled over the gusset of your panties. Your flow is way too heavy for that.

Your thumb hovers over his name in your phone as you contemplate the decision. You feel a warm rush of blood between your thighs, then quickly reach for the toilet paper to avoid a mess on the floor or another shower. Fuck it, you’ll call Roman. You press Roman’s name on your phone, flush your toilet paper and grab another towel, laying it out on your bed as you wait for him to pick up.

“Hey, you.”

You hesitate before answering, “Um…hi,” Your voice shakes and wavers.

“Yeah, hi.” Roman picks up on your nervousness immediately and sounds concerned. “You sound - I don’t know. Is - is everything okay?” You hear him shutting what’s probably his office door.

“Yeah, no. I’m fine. Everything’s fine.”

“If everything’s fine, what are you calling me for, then?”

You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. “I started my period and I don’t have any pads or tampons here at home.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” you say, “Oh.”

“So what, you’re hoping I’ll come home from work just to bring you some?”

“…Kind of.”

“Kind of…I see. Yeah, it just kind of sounds like a you problem, is the thing, though,” Roman murmurs in a teasing voice. He waits for your laugh, but he’s met with an awkward silence. “Kidding, I’m kidd- it’s a joke. You can laugh.”

“Don’t be weird.”

“I’m not being weird. You’re we- you’re being weird.”

You sigh. Leave it to Roman to make a phone call awkward and longer than it has to be. “Can you just come…”

“Yeah, yeah. I was just about to go to lunch anyway. Do you have a preferred brand or flavor or–”

“Gross, Roman. See? You’re being weird. Just pads. Regular fucking pads.”

“I was gonna say ice cream if you’d have let me finish, you fuckin’ smartass. But I guess I’ll forget the Ben and Jerry’s, since you insist.”

“No, wait. Please. I want ice cream.” You feel a little bad for thinking the worst of Roman. He’s gonna get you ice cream? “Please,” you repeat.

“Nope. You’re shit out of luck, baby girl,” Roman says. “Ship has sailed.”

“Please?”

Roman hums on the other end of the phone, pretending to contemplate. The act doesn’t last long, though. “Fuck you, you make me soft. What flavor?”

You smile. “Gimme S’mores.”

“Got it. Phish Food. Hang tight, I’ll be home soon.”

You chuckle after he hangs up. Asshole.

After stopping at a CVS and picking up a basic box of pads and a variety pack of tampons, as well as making a special trip to find your Gimme S’mores Ben and Jerry’s at the Walgreen’s across the street, Roman comes home. He kicks off his shoes, then puts the ice cream in the freezer before heading upstairs, knees cracking as he walks up the steps. He knocks on your door, “It’s Roman. Your knight in shining armor.”

“It’s open.”

Roman opens the door and finds you in bed wrapped in a towel, lying on another towel as you bleed freely. “My stepdaughter, withering away into nothing in a pool of her own blood. How grotesque. You look like hell. Like- like, straight out of The Exorcist.”

You roll your eyes. “Fuck off. I’m dying.”

“Oh, always with the dramatics. You’re not gonna get any sympathy points from me, you know,” Roman says, lifting his brows as he points at you. “Not a one.”

“Can you just put the stuff in my bathroom, Roman?”

“So impatient,” Roman murmurs, walking into your bathroom where he opens the cabinet under the sink and tosses the bag inside. He comes back out to see you lying on your side, your towel stained and hiked up past your thighs, exposing just the slightest sliver of your bleeding pussy to him. He bites his lip and presses down on his half-hard erection.

Roman rounds the bed to look at your face all scrunched in pain, moaning softly. “Is it cramps?”

“Mhm.”

“And a headache, maybe?”

“Mhm. You’re the headache.”

“Charming as always, sweetheart. Never change.”

Short hums are all you’re able to vocalize as the pain begins to worsen. It always works this way when you’re on your period. It’s nothing, then all the pain at once.

“Wow. So you’re uh…really not feeling too hot, are you?”

You shake your head slightly. “Mm-mm. No, I’m not.”

“I’m sorry, kiddo,” Roman says softly, reaching for you. He strokes your hair, rubs his thumb along your cheekbone. What he wouldn’t give to fuck you like this right now, all wet and bleeding and pliant. He’d make it all better. “Poor thing. What can I do?”

You open your eyes and look up at Roman, who’s frowning in concern above you. “Are you serious? You wanna help?”

“I can’t promise I don’t have ulterior motives, but yeah. So put me to work, what can I do? Want me to kiss it all better?”

His eyes are dark and hungry like they usually are when he looks at you, but there’s a gentleness to them, too. Roman’s rubbing his hand up and down your bare shoulder, the simple touch calming you. “Can you just be with me?” Your voice is more desperate than you want it to be when it comes out.

“Just like, be with you? Like, you want me to lay down with you?”

You nod.

Roman’s heart swells a little. “Yeah, okay. Fuck it. I have a few minutes,” he says after a second, as if he had to think about the choice at all. “Move your ass. Fucking bed hog.”

You scoot closer to the edge of the bed and Roman climbs over you, hushing your whines with an I know, I know, when his movements disrupt you. He pulls you close to himself, soft middle pressed against you, his body heat soothing the aching in your back. It catches Roman off guard when you unwrap your towel and take his hand, then press his palm flat against your tummy. Fuck it, you think. He’s seen it, felt it all anyway.

Roman traces his fingertips over your soft belly, rubs you with gentle circles. “You like that?” he asks, “Does that help a little?” You hum in response, relief evident in your voice. “S’warm,” you mumble. “Feels nice.”

How vulnerable you are right now. Roman’s seen you at your most vulnerable before, albeit forcefully. He loves taking what he wants from you but fuck, the way you’re giving himself over to him on a silver platter right now has him aroused in a way he’s not yet experienced. You belong to him; Roman’s made that undeniably clear and you’ve been obedient to that. But he wonders if without the obvious circumstances of the age gap and being tied through family, without the wrongness of it all, if maybe the relationship could be just as special. If it’d make him feel the same, feel that raw, animalistic power. Maybe you’d still be his to do with what he wants and there’d be no guilt, no anxiety. But then again, maybe the discomfort is what makes this what it is in the first place.

Roman’s hand slides up, up your torso, between your breasts. He palms one of them and squeezes, loving the way your soft skin feels in his hand. You moan, and Roman squeezes harder. “Little sore here, huh?” he murmurs.

“Yeah,” you answer. “But you don’t have t–”

“Don’t,” he says. “Just let me.”

You sigh and resign yourself to his touch. The pressure hurts, but feels relieving too. Roman has a strength to his hands that you do not, and he’s able to work out all the soreness, melt it all away with just his fingertips.

Roman peers over your shoulder as he massages your breasts. He watches your flesh move and billow beneath his fingers, he loves their softness and their warmth under his palm. Intentionally, Roman rubs his thumb across one of your nipples. You gasp his name and back into his body and god, he never gets tired of working you up like this. You sigh in more than just relief, but pleasure too. Good. Roman licks his fingertips and circles your areolas, watching your nipples pebble into small peaks as your chest rises and falls with heavy breaths. “Roman, Roman…I…”

Quick and easy, you’re too easy for your own good. Roman loves the effect a little bit of his teasing has on you. “What’s that, huh? Are you moaning for me?” he taunts, like he’s not the one with his fingers gently twisting and pinching your nipples.

“Roman,” you breathe as he continues his teasing.

“Spit it out, sweetheart. What are you trying to tell me?”

“I d- I don’t know.”

“Bullshit. I think you do know, but you’re shy,” Roman purrs. “C’mon. Don’t beat around the bush, just tell me what you need. Use your big girl words and tell your daddy.”

You’re always horny on your period, and you know what he’s doing to you is intentional, probably calculated too. He was probably stroking his cock on his way home thinking of doing this to you. Pulling your strings just to watch you move for him - and yet you fall for it all the same, what with your squirming and your moaning. But can you even ask for this? If it weren’t for Roman’s deliberate teasing, could you really ask for what you want? He’s taken what he wanted from you before, given you what you needed without your say in the matter. It feels unnatural to have a hand on the wheel with him, even if just for a brief second.

“You’re not getting out of this, baby girl, I know you want me to make you come. Just ask me,” Roman says, pulling on your shoulder to lay you flat on your back. He crawls on top of you, caging you in as he closes his lips around one of your nipples, his fingers working the other. “It’ll fix your cramps, too. Win-win.”

“You’re - fuck - you’re full of shit, Roman.” You hold Roman’s head, tugging on his hair as his tongue flicks and swirls around your sensitive bud.

“Yeah, you’re right. Guilty,” he shrugs. Roman pulls away momentarily to shuck off his shirt and pants, tossing them on the floor. He’s back at your chest in an instant, the head of his swollen cock rubbing against your hip fills you with need. “Bet it’d still feel good though, huh?” You bite your lip and nod, unable to conjure the words. “Still not gonna say it, are you?” Roman waits for your answer, his eyebrows raised. “That’s fine,” he says, “But one of us is coming here and I guess that makes it me.”

Roman pulls you by your feet down the bed, then plays with his cock as he climbs up it, each of his knees on either side of your chest. He taps it against your breasts a couple of times and then moves up even further, his knees snugly fitting against your armpits. He leans over you and takes both of your wrists in his hands, then slides them up the mattress so that he’s got you pinned beneath him. With one hand holding your wrists together, he grips the base of his cock with the other. “Open your mouth.”

You open your mouth and Roman taps his thick head against your tongue, then slides it toward the back of your throat, causing you to gag. “That’s it, yeah. Fuckin’ choke on it.” Roman reaches under his heavy balls and holds your chin between his thumb and his forefinger, forcing your lips to stay open for him. He pushes himself into your mouth just a little at first, pulling out before going further. In time, he finds a rhythm he likes. Roman holds both of your wrists again as his hips roll against your face, his warm balls bouncing against your chin as your nose is buried in his neatly trimmed pubic hair.

You breathe him in as he thrusts, his slim, soft belly touching your face. He smells like sweat but clean, too, and comforting. Your eyes close as you relish in the feeling of his hard cock on your tongue, the feel of each little ridge and vein. “Yeah, you’re good for this. Made for sucking my dick, aren’t you?”

Roman pulls out of your mouth and watches a little string of saliva connecting his shaft and your lips break. He thrusts his hips forward so that his balls drag up your chin to rest between your lips, where you suck one into your mouth, then the other. Roman trails his cock down your cheeks before he shoves himself back down your throat unceremoniously. He folds his hands behind his head and groans long and guttural, drawing in and out of your mouth, savoring all of this - how powerful he feels right now, how pretty and helpless you look on your back and with his cock between your lips.

Roman pulls out of your mouth for the last time and wraps his fist around his cock, pumping it furiously. “Fuck, I’m gonna - ohhh, god - this is your last chance, sweetheart, or I’m coming all over your face. Don’t you wanna come on my cock?”

You nod.

“Then fucking ask for it.”

Roman’s voice is low. He stares at you, eyes piercing and deadly serious. All charm, playfulness, affection - it’s all gone, and it sets you on fire. You’re panting, “Fuck - can I - oh, fuck -”

“Get to the point.”

You swallow thickly. “Can I come on your cock?”

“Oh, there it is.” Roman smiles, really, genuinely smiles. He thinks that like a young puppy, you don’t always know when the game ends. The way its mother bites its scruff, a stern reminder from Roman is all that’s needed to push you in the right direction. Poor baby. You’d be lost without him, all helpless and confused. “Yes. You may.”

He moves away from you so you have room, “Spread your legs,” he says, wrapping his hands around your ankles to part your thighs himself anyway. He fits himself in the space between them and pushes his middle and ring finger into your dripping hole, all the way to the knuckle so that you feel his wedding ring, cold against your hot skin. He curls his fingers up repeatedly, stroking that sensitive place inside you. You gasp when Roman presses down on your lower tummy, intensifying the feeling of it all. “I need you now, Roman,” you whine, “Now.”

Roman pouts mockingly as he pulls his fingers away. “So needy all of a sudden, look at that. God, you are ornery.”

You push Roman’s hand to the side and lift yourself off the bed a bit, then reach for his cock. It’s the first time you’ve ever really felt it; the weight of him in your palm, the satin-softness of his tip. “Please, daddy,” you whimper sweetly, stroking his length.

Roman tilts his head back and inhales sharply through his perfect nose as you move your hand up and down. Daddy. The way you say the word never gets old, it’s special each time. Pathetic, needy, sweet. Just as much for him as it is for you. “Ohhhh, you fuckin’-” Roman lets out a breathless laugh, “You play dirty, kiddo. You and that daddy shit. You know what you’re fucking doing.” Roman shakes his head as you bite your lip and squeeze, giving him the gentlest of tugs to urge him closer. I need you. Now. Inside me. “I know, Jesus Christ. Daddy’s gonna make it better. Just like he always does, huh?”

Roman pries your fingers from around his cock and lowers himself between your legs, hardly taking the time to fit his head in your entrance. He pushes himself inside you, the motion so swift and brutal that it has you gasping, choking on his name. You cling to his body, arms wrapped around his shoulders as he pulls out and peers down at the place where your bodies connect. His cock coated in blood, that same beautiful, crimson mess between your thighs. He slams in again and this time sets a pace, without waiting a single moment for you to adjust to his size. You wanted this, didn’t you?

As Roman rolls his hips into you, his strands of hair tickling your skin, you bury yourself in his neck and inhale his scent while nipping at his collarbones. Roman grunts, “You’re so fuck - fucking desperate, baby girl. You know I’m not going anywhere.” Roman adjusts himself, spreading your legs further apart. He keeps one hand on the back of your thigh, the other by your head as he fucks himself into you. He draws in and out, each rock of his hips into your warm, wet, bleeding pussy has him biting his bottom lip, fighting to keep it together. He could come right now and leave you on the bed, seeping a pretty, pinkish mixture of his spend and your own blood. But Roman’s just as addicted to your pleasure as he is his own. “Yeah, I got you,” he breathes, “Daddy’s here. I’m right here.”

You whimper as Roman fills your cunt impossibly perfectly each time he thrusts. It’s hard and fast, the head of his cock rubs exactly where you need it to as you grip him tighter, your fingernails scratching up and down his back, leaving little dents in his skin. He’s so close to you right now, exactly where you need him. You take in all of it, committing every little detail to memory - the weight of his torso on yours, his hot skin, his flexing shoulders and biceps, the pleasure building deep in your gut. God, he smells so good and you can almost taste him. You still don’t know the feeling of his soft, pink lips, or his tongue mingling with your own, the feeling of his scruff scratching your cheeks.

Roman lowers himself further so that he’s resting on his forearm. He wriggles his hand between your bodies and finds your clit, then rubs those tight circles against it. “Come for me,” he whispers as he thrusts. “Right now, sweetheart.”

You’re there. You come hard on Roman’s cock, walls pulsing around him as you moan freely. Roman fucks you through your orgasm until those sweet noises of yours subside, until he’s drawn out every bit of pleasure from you that he could. He lets himself go then, emptying inside you as he moans, his hot breath tickling your ear.

Roman pulls out of you, furthering the mess made on the towels. He’s not worried about it. He leaves you lying naked on the bed as he goes to the bathroom to dampen a washcloth with warm water, then returns to gently scrub your skin. He washes between your thighs, he turns you to the side to clean away the blood there, the action so profoundly intimate it sort of stuns you. Roman leaves the dirtied cloth on the towels and goes back to your bathroom to clean himself next, but first grabs a fresh pair of your underwear from the top dresser drawer. After washing his hands and his cock with soap and water, Roman fits one of the pads he bought you onto your panties. There’s a bit of your blood still in his wedding ring.

Roman returns to you again, panties in hand. He puts one of your feet and then the other through each leg hole, then hikes them up your legs. “C’mon, lazy ass. Up.” he says, and you lift your hips for him to pull your panties on the rest of the way. “It’s like I have to do everything for you. There. That good? Did I do it right?”

“Nope. It’s crooked.”

“Fuck off. I did good.”

You smile. Roman smiles too, then dresses himself. He draws your curtains shut, then pulls the dirtied towels from under your body, he’ll throw them in the washer downstairs. “Be good. Try not to bleed out or anything, I don’t know how it fuckin’ works,” he says, “I’ll see ya.”

“Wait-” you grab his arm and toy with the fabric of his sleeves, fingers traveling lower until you’re holding his fingers. “You’re leaving?”

“I mean, yeah. Lunch break isn’t all day, so…” he trails off and laughs awkwardly. “What, you thought I’d-”

“I - sorry. Yeah. I just thought you’d stay with me. I thought you’d…I don’t know. It’s stupid.”

Roman’s heart breaks a little. You look disappointed, genuinely sad. A small part of him feels delighted; he knows you need him. You always have, and he’s known it this whole time. But you’re getting sloppy again, letting that facade begin to crumble. Letting whatever this is happen.

“But you’re not gonna stay late tonight, right?”

“Mmm. I might just have to, if this-” Roman holds your chin in his hands, “-is what I’m coming home to. A whining, bleeding mess…I might be better off in the office. Don’t feel like getting my head bit off, you know? I happen to like having it attached to the rest of–”

“Roman.”

“Chill. I’m fucking with you. I’ll be here and we’ll eat your Phish Food, hm?” Roman kisses your cheek, his lips lingering a little longer than they should. “Take a nap. You’ll feel better.”

If you enjoyed, please reblog, leave me a comment, jump in my ask box ♡ your kind words go so far in keeping me motivated to write.

Tags -

@goldenispunk @littlevenicebitch69 @gaeela-6 @bean-is-reading @slutsoutgutsout

@galarian-weezing-on-prep @cum-a-calla @pastelpinkflowerlife @kolsmikaelson

@moth-maam56 @kothku @cult-of-escapism @swiftiegirliepop @bluecookies-and-ink

@romanarose @kappasbbgirl @magpiepills @highinmiamili @verstappensrealwife

@thesummerpetrichor @lilipads @/luiscarrutherss @pastelpinkflowerlife @baronessvonglitter

@myromeow @ovaryacted @/doll-0f-flesh

#roman roy x reader smut #roman roy smut #roman roy x reader #roman roy/you #roman roy/reader #stepdaddy!roman #stepdad!roman #succession x reader #succession #succession fic #kieran culkin characters #kieran culkin

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puppetwoman17 · 9 months ago

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Okay so I love all of the cap identity reveal stories. Obviously. The anticipation of the reactions, the fact that someone they’ve known for so long, someone they’ve fought with and laughed with and cried with, is not even half their age…

But what if they NEVER found out? Cap’s identity, I mean.

I don’t mean life just continues on with Billy leading his separate lives. It’s more like(this next part is so fucking drastic lol) the league thinks cap is dead and suffer with the hole he left behind, only to somehow find out he’s alive, and to add fuel to the fire, he’s a young radio host in Fawcett.

The JL( and other heroes if you want) are fighting a being with incredibly powerful magic. I’m not good with the specifics, but it lines up with someone like Lady Blaze. The YJ team are acting as reconnaissance and backup. Everyone’s doing their part, including Cap.

But then something goes wrong. A miscalculation is all it takes for the fight to spin in the villain’s favor. Magic is a fickle thing. One wrong move, and sparks will fly with reckless abandon.

The fight is nearing an end, and it’s clear that almost all the heroes have been rendered useless. They’re either limping up to go again, or unconscious from the strain.

Everyone but Captain Marvel, that is.

To bring an end to the fight, Cap unleashes a powerful stream of magic, something no one has ever seen him pull off. It seems to zap everything out of him. The next thing you know he’s falling, his body slowly disintegrating. He makes it to the floor and smiles at the other heroes, all of whom are crying their hearts out as gold dust replaces him, for divine beings have no blood.

Billy, on the other hand, is fucking pissed. Apparently, Shazam created a failsafe in case something like this happens. He wakes up in the rock, unable to transform. His magic is still there, and with Solomon’s help he learns that his champion form will return after a couple years. For now, he needs to rest his reservoir.

Now, you’d think he would go tell the league, right?

But he’s not so little anymore, and he now knows that him being younger won’t be the only issue. Younger him was only worried about that little tidbit, but in truth, there was no guarantee they would let him stay if they knew he’d been lying so much. If he’d been able to keep his age a secret for so long, what else could he be hiding?

It’s not something he wants to do. The League, the YJ team, the Titans, they’ve all become like a family to him, despite almost all of them(barring the magic heroes) not knowing who he is. But he can’t risk being watched by parental hawks whenever he’s doing his champion work as Billy. He can’t risk them learning about his… circumstances. His crappy uncle, his annoying cousin, his(an oc I created for this post specifically but dw he’s not that important) crooked cop of a younger-older cousin. His living situation, his previous state of malnutrition, and all of his responsibilities. What a nightmare that would be, explaining all of that.

Also, he tries not to sound too cocky in his head, but he’s fairly sure at least a little less than half of the JL would kill for him. Or at least they’d beat someone to a pulp, which is still a pretty big deal.

So, he washes his hands of the JL and the sub teams and handles his champion work(bar fighting now cause his other body needs to regenerate) in his civilian form. It helps that the magic community, all sides of the spectrum, collectively decide not to tell the other heroes that their Champion is alive. They can get really annoying when it comes to their Boy Scout 🙄.

Plot, plot, plot happens. I’m thinking maybe Whiz gets an opportunity to interview JL members and they send their best reporter for the job. Or maybe something happens on the magic spectrum that brings them closer to Billy. Either way, the JL finds out Cap’s identity without Billy knowing and they are PISSED.

Billy has to deal with countless vigilantes, heroes, and teams lounging on his couch trying to goad him into revealing who he is. Either that r they follow him throughout Fawcett. Some people are angry with him, like Conner or either of the Roys. They try to make him angry. They want to see the real Cap, the real Billy(which is stupid cause of course cap isnt a fake persona but they’re too mad to realize).

Others feel betrayed, like Artemis and Wally(I refuse to acknowledge his death). Cap was a best man at the wedding and they really started to look to him as a sort of father figure. In fact, all the younger heroes love how he stood up for them and validated their feelings. To know that so much of their worries were being shouldered by someone who was years younger than them…

And the JL is worse off too. Their coworker, who they trusted and cared for, had been living alone since he was a child. Having to save for scraps until he finally got a home of his own.

The magic users are practically waiting for Billy to blow a fuse at everyone either fussing over him, attempting to make him mad, or following him whenever they felt the need. Mary’s laughing her ass off and Freddy’s smirking because now he can say “I told you so”. Shazam’s shaking his head because he told his damn protege that the champion doesn’t DO teams, but look where they are now.

Teth is honestly ecstatic. Comes to the next higher ups meeting and laughs in Billy’s face.

And Billy? Billy at least hopes he can make some money off of this: Okay but if I let you stay on my couch for the next three hours, that’s gonna cost you.

No no, I’ll let you follow me, but only if you do this one interview.

Maybe just stop trying to make me mad and just talk to me? Like I get you have issues but I already have a shit load of that so…

#billy batson #captain marvel #justice league #dc universe #shazam #identity reveal #temporary character death #magic community

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poeticpascal · 1 year ago

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I've Got You (Dbf!Joel Miller x Reader)

Masterlist | Request here!

Summary: When a date set up by your father goes wrong, your secret boyfriend and Dad's best friend races to protect you.

Word count: 5.2k

Warnings: smut, 18+, MDNI, attempted sexual assault, abusive language, reader's date is a tory prick, soft!dom!Joel, blowjob, unprotected sex, use of pet names.

A/n: So... this is my first time writing smut. I am super proud of this one, so please let me know what you think! Requests are open so for more Joel/Pedro action, you know where to find me x

Dating your Dad’s best friend is hard. And stupid. Really, you have no clue why either of you thought this'd be a good idea. But you were so far down this path now, so entangled in late night meet-ups and whispered phone calls and unspoken thoughts that sounded a lot like ‘I love you’, that it was too late to turn around and steer the sinking ship of this utter mess back to shore.

More than anything, you hate not having any normalcy with him. You can’t fall straight into his arms after a hard day. You can’t cuddle into his side with a bowl of popcorn watching crappy weeknight telly. You can’t go to the store together, holding hands and making him laugh as you insist on buying a flavour of ice cream that you know he’d love. And it sucks.

Because everyone said Joel would never be one to settle down. He’s too wild, too rough to fit into a polished little box like that. And you’d thought the same. Until you fucked him, then fucked him again, and kept going back until you could see the pain in his eyes each time you left. You could practically feel the heaviness settle in his stomach as you left his bed to sneak back home. It hurts him as much as it does you, and if you weren’t so incredibly in love with him, that would’ve been enough to make you run.

Despite how long you’d kept this going now, a good 6 months at least, it never got any easier. Especially when your Dad started talking about dating. He was protective, but more than anything he wanted to see you happy. So when you suddenly became distant, hiding in your room more often and going out on dates much less, he was concerned. Nowhere near as concerned as he’d be if he found out why you were acting that way, you thought, but concerned all the same.

So when he came home one day, beaming and shouting for you to come downstairs, you thought nothing of it. When he explained there was a new apprentice at his work that he thinks you’d like, you weren’t surprised. And when he told you he’d set up a blind date with said boy, you felt sick.

Because you really couldn’t get out of it. You tried.

“Dad, I just don’t feel like dating right now.”

“Oh come on, you used to have a new date every few weeks. I’m just worried about you. Matthew's really nice, and he likes the same shitty music you do-”

“It’s good music.”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever. I just…” he paused, his worry painted on his face, and there's no way you could’ve said no to him. “Honey, I want you to be happy. I don’t know what’s gotten into you recently” - your best friend, you thought - “but I just need to know you’re okay. So give this a go, for me, alright? And if you have an awful time, that’s it, I’ll never set you up again.”

You sighed. He was right; it’s just one night, one date. One box you have to tick to relieve the pressure that comes from having an affair with your next door neighbour, the one more than twice your age, the one your Dad would call a brother. And besides, your Dad would be working an overnight job, so you’d be spending the night at Joel’s anyway. Something to look forward to.

“Okay, yeah. I’ll go. For you.”

He pulled you in for a hug, tight, and you hugged him right back because you really do hate having to keep this from him. He pulled away, smiling - “great! It’s tonight at 7. He’ll pick you up.”

“You already arranged it?!” You near enough shrieked, but he’d already sauntered off to the kitchen, giggling as he went.

Typical.

So that’s how you ended up here, at 6:55pm, waiting by the front door for Marcus - or Michael, or something like that - to pick you up. Your phone buzzes, Joel’s name flashing on the screen, that alone making you feel that much calmer.

You’d text him as soon as you talked to your Dad, letting him know about the date. He understood, and you loved that about him; he was mature, compassionate, and he was more than secure in the fact that no matter who you talked to, who flirted with you on nights out, who you were set up with… you’d always come back to him.

Don’t worry about tonight, baby. It’ll go quickly. I’ll leave the door unlocked for when you get back. Text me if you need picking up. J x

You smile at his initial at the end - it’s such a Dad thing to do, but it makes you happy, especially when he adds a little kiss. He only does that for you.

The sudden sound of a car door closing snaps you out of your thoughts, Joel’s text left on read as what you assume to be your date heads up the driveway. You take a deep, nervous breath, smoothing out your dress and heading to the door just in time for his knock.

You open the door, take a good look at your date, and he’s… okay. Not unattractive, per se. Though you’d come to accept a little while ago that being with Joel had soured your perception of pretty much every other guy. His dusty blonde hair is slicked back with gel, his teeth are way too white, and he’s dripped in designer clothing that just screams, “I have a trust fund.”

“Oh, hi! I’m Matthew.” Right. Matthew. “You must be (Y/N).” He leans in to peck your cheek, and all you can think about is how smooth his skin is as it grazes yours. Nothing like Joel’s coarse stubble that you love so much - especially when it leaves red patches on your cheeks, and your neck, and if you’re really lucky -

Matthew leans back a little, confused, and you’re brought out of your daydream. “Sorry, yeah, that’s me. (Y/N).”

Well, that was awkward.

You just need to get through these next few hours, you think to yourself, smiling at the boy and letting him lead you out of the house and into his car. You can’t help but glance towards Joel’s place across the street; it looks quiet tonight, though his truck is in the driveway, and as soon as you look up you’re sure you catch the living room blinds suddenly draw shut. You smirk.

──────

The date was going… okay. About as okay as a date you don’t want to be on, with someone you have no interest in, and another man constantly on your mind could go. You could see why your Dad liked him; smart enough, well-polished. His father was a partner in the company, you learned - oh, he’s a ‘Daddy’s credit card’ type you’d thought - and by all intents and purposes he was the sort of guy any parent would hope to see their daughter end up with.

It’s never that easy though, is it?

Because he isn’t rough around the edges like Joel. He doesn’t have his stature, or carry himself with the same brute certitude. You can’t imagine him fucking you up against the wall, working himself up until he’s almost animalistic, somehow using you and worshipping you at the same time. And you can’t see him wrapping you up so tightly afterwards, holding you close and whispering how good you were for me, how proud of you I am.

No, only Joel could do that, and that’s how you like it.

The bill comes, Matthew suggests you split it. You don’t mind. He takes out his credit card, flashing it in front of you. “This is my Dad’s. I can use it as much as I want.” He’s smirking like he’s got something to be proud of, and you really had to fight the urge to roll your eyes. Instead you just smile, before paying your share and making small talk as you head out the door and towards his car.

“So, I thought we could head back to my place.”

You freeze. Yeah, no, not gonna happen. He’s got this shit-eating grin on his face, one you knew all too well from past college boyfriends - that’s a boy who thinks he’s getting some tonight. You shudder, wrapping your arms around your waist and trying to sound sincere as you reply, “this has been lovely, but I’ve got an appointment early in the morning” - not really a lie, if staying in bed with a man over twice your age getting fucked or cuddled or both counts as an appointment - “so I’d rather just head home.”

You reach for the passenger side door, but it’s locked. You try again, pulling on the handle, but it doesn’t budge. You realise then that he’s stepped closer, too close, crowding your vision as you turn to face him while keeping one hand on the door’s handle. He leans an arm against the roof of the car, right beside your head, staring you down.

“Oh, come on, (Y/N). I’ve got the house to myself tonight, it’ll just be us. I know that’s what you want, don’t be shy.”

His free hand pinches your chin, his touch aggressive where Joel’s is rough but careful, and he tries to close the already too-small gap between you.

You dodge him quickly, slipping out from under his arm and backing up, away from the car, away from him. Matthew just watches you, incredulous, before laughing to himself and taking a step forward. “Look, baby, I know you want this. What is it, are you scared your daddy’s gonna find out?”

“What? No, I-” you splutter, but he interrupts.

“Get in the car, (Y/N). You don’t have to worry about anyone finding out. I can see the way you look at me, I bet you’re dying to fu-”

A heavy sickness has flooded your stomach, your nerves shot from the sudden escalation of what was supposed to be a quiet, albeit tedious, night. But his words hit you, and before you can even think, you’re shouting back at him.

“You seriously think I want to fuck you? You can’t even pay your half of the bill with your own money. Fuck that. I’ll make my own way home.”

The smug look on his face is quickly washed away with anger, and you continue to slowly step backwards as Matthew follows you. A lick of fear sets in now as the pale streetlights cast shadows on his darkened expression, and you scold yourself for opening your mouth.

“The fuck did you just say to me? Do you know who my Dad is?” - this really isn’t a good time to roll your eyes - “You think you’re too good for me, you bitch? I’ll show you.”

He stalks you, and your eyes frantically dart back to the restaurant you’d just left, though you’d backtracked far enough to be almost at the door again.

People are dining and laughing, some just sitting and watching the world go by. You’re well within their view, and you turn back to see that Matthew’s gaze has followed your own and he’s connected the dots. He can’t do anything in front of them. He locks eyes with you again, scoffing, heading back to his car and loudly shouting something that sounded a lot like “fuckin’ bitch.” Nice.

He drives away; you’re safe, out of the situation, and as the relief floods you the adrenaline does too and tears prick at your eyes. You sit on a small bench just outside the restaurant, dotted with shrubbery and stains from spilt drinks you assume, and take out your phone.

Your last chat with Joel is already open, and you breathe slowly in an attempt to still your shaking hands as you type quickly,

Please come and get me. He was trying to get me to go back with him. Wouldn’t take no for an answer. He’s gone now but I have no ride home.

The text is marked as ‘read’ almost as soon as you send it, though you receive no reply. You didn’t expect to; Joel wasn’t much of a texter. Like, at all. He was slowly getting used to it, what with it being one of the only ways you could really talk when slipping over to his place was too risky.

In this particular instance, you already knew he’d have read the text, dropped his phone without a second thought and hurried to his truck while muttering to himself what he’s gonna do to the kid, how he won’t see what’s comin’ to him.

Just how badly Joel might react worries you. He’s protective, incredibly so when it comes to you, and that combined with his white hot temper was surely a recipe for some sort of disaster.

Secretly, though, you loved it. And so as you sat on that little bench, frosty air nipping at your skin, you couldn’t help but revel in the warmth that pooled in your core at the thought of what sort of beast Joel would become tonight.

──────

It only takes him around 10 minutes to reach you, and you know for a fact he must’ve ran a red light or two because normally it’s a 20 minute drive at least into town. You stand, walking over to his truck, but before you can hop in he’s already storming out and wrapping you up in his arms, shielding you, eyes darting across the street.

“Where the fuck is he?”

“Joel, I-”

“(Y/N) where the fuck is he? I’m gonna kill that little bastard. Fucking-”

His body is tense, far more so than usual, and anger pours from him in buckets. You pull away to look up at him, his eyes still searching for the boy long gone, and you sigh. “He’s gone, Joel. He left.”

He finally meets your eyes, a cold frown etched on his face, and he somehow looks even angrier than usual. “Did he touch you?” His hands roam your body, searching for you didn’t know what, but you let him do whatever he needed to relax. To know you were safe.

“No, Joely, he didn’t. I’m fine, I promise.”

It usually softens him right up, your little nickname for him. Joely. The first few times you used it, he’d just scoff or roll his eyes, but the small smirk that crept onto his face each time let you know he loved it. Quite how much he loved it was a different story; you hadn’t got together then, though the both of you wanted it, and as your relationship blossomed you became the only one he ever let call him anything other than Joel.

It doesn’t work this time, though, and he remains stern, finally letting you go and searching your eyes for even a hint of anxiety or fear. “What happened?”

“He tried it on, I said no. He tried again, I backed up and made sure there were people watching,” you nod towards the restaurant, still bustling with life. “And he left.”

Joel nods. “You tell him to fuck off?”

“‘Course i did.”

It seems as if he finally lets up then, giving you a proper hug, one arm around your neck and the other around your waist. He presses a kiss to the top of your head, hard, and the tension leaves him. “That’s my girl.”

You squeeze him tight, burrowing into his shirt and inhaling the scent of him that you loved so much. With one arm around your shoulders, he guides you back to his truck, opening the door for you and helping you. He does it everytime, but it still makes you blush, and you’re sure his lips smirk slightly as your cheeks turn red. Worth it.

The ride back to home is quiet, only the sound of his radio and passing traffic echoing between you. He keeps a hand on your knee, always protective, and every now and then you rub your palm over it to let him know you appreciate it. To say thank you.

Joel was never good with words, and you’d learned over the last few months just how much he relies on touch to express himself. To show love. You’d picked up on his habits, his little signs, his way of telling you his deepest thoughts without having to speak a word.

And when you reciprocated, when you wrapped your hand around his, or brushed his side at the neighbours’ BBQ, or kissed his shoulder in the kitchen, you knew just what it meant to him.

Your driveway is empty as Joel turns onto your street - your Dad must have set off for work already. You sigh in relief; you didn’t have the energy to explain all this to him, and certainly not the energy to try and sneak into Joel’s without him seeing.

Joel steps out first, taking a quick look around to make sure no nosey neighbours were watching, a precaution you were both used to by now. He grabs the door for you again, holding your hand and helping you out, holding you close to his side as he unlocks the door and you both slip inside.

“What do you want to drink?”

“I’m good, thanks.”

He pauses, looking at you, concerned. ”No. You need somethin’ to drink. You need to- to lie down, or somethin’.”

You follow him into the kitchen as he stalks past you, not giving you time to answer and filling a glass with water and ice. “Drink,” he hands it to you.

You take it, thanking him and sipping as he watches. It’s sweet; he cares about you, so much, and when he looks at you like this you can’t help but feel butterflies swirl in your stomach.

“I’m sorry.” It’s almost a whisper, so quiet you wouldn’t have heard if it weren’t so still already in his house.

“Hm?” You look at him, confused.

“I’m sorry he did that to you. S’not - s’not right. I mean, shit, what if you couldn’t get away?” He was spiralling.

“Hey, hey. Joel, it’s okay. I’m okay.” You set down the glass and take him in your arms. He calms, instantly, holding you tightly against him and cupping the back of your head with his hand.

“You shouldn’t have had to go through that.”

“I know.”

He sighs. “I just wanna protect you, honey.”

“I know.”

He pulls back to look at you, framing your face with his hands and running his thumbs along the edge of your cheekbones. You lean in, letting his lips capture yours in that sweet but desperate way that only Joel can, and moan into his mouth. He slips his tongue against yours, letting one arm fall to your waist as his hand lingers around the hem of your jeans.

The kiss becomes desperate and you reach for his belt, your arousal becoming unbearable as the memory of him so full of anger and protectiveness spins in your mind like a carousel. He breaks the kiss and you groan, chasing his swollen lips with yours.

“We don’t have to do this.” His southern drawl is slick with need, his eyes closed as he rests his forehead against yours. The moment is so sweet, so intimate, that any thoughts of what had happened today were long gone and your mind was full with sweepings of him.

“I want to.”

He grunts, pushing himself further into you so his nose brushes yours like a cat. So much so, you almost purr into him, and it makes you giggle. You curse yourself as he pulls back, cocking an eyebrow and giving you that stare you’d come to know all too well; you’re a pain in my ass, it says. But the corners of his lips turn upwards, and you step forward so you’re once again pressed right up against him, pressing gentle kisses to his jaw.

“You’ve had a big shock today, sweetheart,” he sighs.

You know he’s given up. You know he needs this as much as you do. But you humour him, and tip his head down so you can kiss his lips again.

“So make me forget.”

It snaps something within him, and you shriek as Joel sweeps you up in his arms, your legs wrapping around his waist in instinct and your head burying itself in his neck. He laughs at the sound you make, something you’d always known to be so rare for him, but that he does far more often now he has you.

He carries you upstairs, gripping your thighs with his large hands, and the way he holds you so easily just turns you on more. He kicks his bedroom door open, all but throwing you on the bed and watching as you bounced softly on the sheets, undoing his belt that was already half-opened by your shaky hands.

“On your back. Lay your head towards me.”

You did as he said immediately, though your movements were slow, languid. He let you take your time; a part of you thinks he likes to watch you move for him, the way you put on a show, keeping your eyes locked on his and your lips slightly parted and puffy from his kiss.

You lie on your back, your head dangling off the edge, looking up at him upside down. The hard outline of his cock is just centimetres above you, swollen already, and your desperation to taste it must’ve shown on your face because Joel groans out a soft, strangled “fuck.”

“You need this cock, baby? Need your throat fucked?” You just nod rapidly, desperate for him to do something other than just stand there and watch you, your arousal becoming unbearable. Joel seems to break, too, pulling down his jeans and boxers and gripping his hard length in his hands.

It’s big at the best of times, but from this angle, his balls level with your eyes and his cock the only thing you can see when you look up at him, it’s painful how bad you need him.

You’d only discovered this position recently, on a night you’d spent at his place while your Dad was away with work, not unlike tonight. Joel had been floored, consumed with pleasure as the stretch of your spine made it so easy for him to slide himself through your mouth and down your throat, the muscles tensing around him and drawing his release much sooner than he’d have liked.

He slides the head of his cock over your lips, painting them in his precum. You whine, lapping at his taste, desperate but you know better than to lift your hands off the bed. No, you give him control, and he lavishes it.

“Open up, babygirl.”

You comply, parting your lips and moaning as Joel pushes inside, giving you no time to breathe. You try to control yourself, inhaling through your nose and letting your muscles relax before he bottoms out, his groin almost entirely covering your face and your throat full of his thickness.

It’s filthy, degrading, resigns you to nothing but his to fuck and use as he wants.

You love it.

“Such a good girl, baby. So good for me, ain’t ya?” You can hardly even nod as your tongue flicks along a particularly swollen vein. He begins to move, pulling out almost entirely before slamming his cock back into your mouth. You moan again, and it hurts, in that delectable way that’ll spend the next few days reminding you of this moment.

Joel’s got one hand on the wooden foot of the bed, keeping himself steady. The other finds its way to your neck, and he stalls as he feels his cock beneath your skin, rapidly pushing in and out. He moans your name, his hips rocking into you harder and harder, chasing a release you knew he wouldn’t let himself have just yet.

You’re completely at his mercy now, too consumed by his scent and his touch to think, and you hardly register him reaching for your hand and taking it in his own. He starts to mumble, and you only catch a few words - “my good girl. My girl. So- so fuckin’ pretty for me.”

He swells, your tongue working faster against him, his hand squeezing yours and his legs faltering when he suddenly pulls out and stands back with a whimper. Your eyes are glazed over, your sore throat misses him, and your pink swollen lips are trying to say something but you’re not sure what. It feels like his name.

“Come on, pretty girl, come here.” He sits beside you on the edge of the bed, wrapping his big arms around your back and guiding you into his lap.

His fingers dance over your entrance, collecting the slick that soaked your thighs before pushing a single finger inside, revelling in your arousal. He admires you as you squirm, rolling your hips against his hand, desperate for more and moaning against his lips.

It’s almost embarrassing how easy you unravel for him, and if it weren’t for your utter infatuation for the man, you’d have hidden your pleasure and at least tried to hold onto some sense of dignity. But you were obsessed, addicted to him, and he knew it. Because god, was he addicted to you, too.

He kisses you, letting another finger slip inside and catching your hiss with his mouth. “So fuckin’ perfect,” he mutters, opening his eyes to look at you, his cock twitching against your thigh.

“Tell me what you need, angel.”

“Y- you, Joel. I need you. Please.” You hardly register yourself saying the words, but they do the trick, as Joel removes his fingers and instead lines the tip of his cock with your soaking wet entrance.

“Please, please, fuck me. Fuck-”

He snaps his hips upwards, driving his cock into your cunt and you gasp as he stretches you. You grip at his shoulders, sure to leave marks, but you know he loves it.

He sets the pace, guiding you to bounce on his cock as his hips snap upwards again and again, fucking you so hard you can almost see stars.

His head is buried in your neck, kissing and nipping at the delicate skin, and you try to regain some autonomy and roll your hips side to side making him mewl.

“So - oh, fuck - so good baby, keep doin’ that.” He spurs you on as your breathless moans and the heavy slap of skin on skin fills the room, lewd but addictive.

The pace is brutal, unforgiving as your thighs tremble and you wonder if he’s feeling the burn of his movements. If he does, he doesn’t show it, just ramming into you and moaning your name against your ear.

His hand falls from your waist and finds its way to your clit, making you gasp as he circles his thumb around the spot. The near pornographic moan that falls from his lips as you roll into his touch is nearly enough to make you cum right there, but you know better than to cum before he tells you to.

Instead he hoists you further up, giving him better control of your hips, and angles his cock so it hits that perfectly raw spot deep inside you that has tears in your eyes.

“I- I’m gonna-”

“I know, baby. Just hold on for me. I’ve got you.” You cry at his denial, though it’s quickly forgotten as he flips you over onto your back, his head still tucked under the crook of your neck, his cock still buried inside you. He resumes his fast pace, reaching even deeper inside you with your legs locked around his waist, and you moan so loudly you worry someone’s going to hear you.

Joel doesn’t seem to care as he pulls back to look at you, marvelling at how utterly fucked-out you look for him. His pace starts to falter, each thrust more desperate than the last, and he frantically pushes his tongue into your mouth as you moan in unison.

“Cum for me baby, cum all over my cock, that’s it.” You release on command, crying out as waves of pleasure spread like fire through your body, and the uncontrollable spasms of your orgasm make Joel groan as he spills inside you, still rocking into you and carrying both of your highs.

He doesn’t let his cock slip out of you as he wraps an arm under your back and rolls onto his side, holding you close as he brushes the matted hair away from your forehead and replaces it with a soft kiss. You hum, snuggling into him and trying not to gasp at the feeling of his cock inside you while you were still so sensitive. He can see you flinch and smiles, though he just wants you to rest for now.

“You okay, babygirl?” You just hum again, but he taps your chin and you look up.

“Answer me, angel.”

“I’m good. Tired.”

Joel nods, running his hand through your hair and agreeing, “me too.”

You’re quiet for a moment, almost dozing off as the heat that radiates from him lulls you gently to seep, when he breaks the silence again. “What’s his name?”

“Hm?” You reply, too fucked-out to really understand what he was saying.

“That little asshole. What’s his name?”

He’s looking down at you, brows knitted together, and you just sigh. “It doesn’t matter, Joel. He doesn’t matter. I promise.”

“But-“

You cut him off with a kiss, and the tension that built in his shoulders is quickly dissipated. “No ‘but’s. Get some sleep.”

“Aright,” he resigns. “I love you.”

It slips out, sudden, and he freezes before he realises the joy that’s spread across your face from his words. It’s the first time either of you have said it, and the way your eyes light up are enough to let him die a happy man. You nuzzle his nose, your hand gently lay on his chest, your eyes falling shut again. “I love you too, Joel.” He wraps you up tighter, grinning, happy. In love.. “And no asking my Dad, either.”

He scoffs, “I wasn’t going to!” You just cock a brow, eyes still shut, and though you can’t see him you know he’s rolling his eyes. “Let me get you cleaned up, sweetheart.”

He pulls out of you slowly, making you wince at the loss, and sits up on the bed. When you can still feel his weight beside you, you crack an eye open to see him quickly typing something on his phone, and you frown. “Joel?”

He startles and drops his phone, turning to you and kissing the top of your head. “Sorry, baby, I’m going - just gimme a sec to get you a warm cloth.”

As he leaves for the bathroom you snatch his phone, already knowing what he’d done. Your Dad’s name is at the top of the screen, the chat from just moments ago still open:

What’s the name of that kid (Y/N) went out with?

Matthew Wicks, he’s the new apprentice at work. Why?

Just wondered.

You’re weird, man.

Joel creeps out of the bathroom, frozen as he sees you lock his phone. He offers a small, guilty smile, quickly wiped away as you grab his pillow and playfully launch it at his chest.

“JOEL!”

──────

Thank you so much for reading! As ever, comments and weblogs are so appreciated, and please let me know if you'd like to be tagged in my future fics!

#dbf!joel miller #dbf!joel x you #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x you #joel miller x yn #dbf!joel x reader #dbf!joel #joel miller #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal x yn #pedro pascal #tlou fic #tlou show

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icyg4l · 8 months ago

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PAC: What Do You Need to Know About Your Love Life Right Now?

Hello beautiful people. The topic of today's reading will be about love! This is my first PAC love reading that is features photos of the Queen of Love Songs herself, cause why not? I try to vary in topics so that I can deliver diversity amongst my reading topics. I do offer personal love readings as well as financial, career, education, general and readings about the other relationships in your life. Without further ado, please choose the image of Beyoncé that resonates with you that resonates with you.

Top Left-to-Bottom Right (1-4):

Pile 1: Pile One, you’re down bad, girl! I feel like this pile is in a monogamous relationship right now and you may be scared of what is to come. I feel like this relationship is new. This could be your first serious relationship that you’ve been in. And because of this, you feel afraid to mess anything up. Basically, you have high standards for this and don’t want it to end. There is nothing wrong with feeling this way. It’s common. But you need to be exerting this passionate energy into other things as well. Your relationship will only fail if you stop putting effort into it. So please… relax. Also, please stop letting any other failed attempts of relationships that you’ve had in the past affect your future. I don’t know why you let this happen but you are not the same person you were then. You have different boundaries and a different sense of self so please go easy on yourself, my love! You are not going to fail, boo. Just keep on moving with your boo! And lastly, ease into this whole exclusivity thing. Don’t rush it. You don’t have to expose your relationship to the public just yet. Do everything when your body feels it is right.

Cards Used: Temperance, Ace of Cups, Ace of Discs, 2 of Swords, Princess of Wands, 6 of Discs, 5 of Cups.

extras: dramatic. singer-songwriter. poet. dimples. big curly hair. big heart.

Pile 2: Pile Two, you’re quite the cocky one, aren’t you? I feel like this pile is someone that’s really guarded with their heart. You don’t seem to be easily trusting of others in general. I think you’re really focused on making stuff happen in terms of climbing the social ladder and congratulations to you! I feel like you have been tending to yourself, which is great. I’m sensing the energy of an ex. You let go of this crappy ex and everything has gotten significantly better. I’m getting big air sign energy from this pile, some real brainiacs are here lol. I feel like you should continue to focus on pursuing your personal goals and someone needs to here this: Go get your toes done! You’ve been doing an excellent job of calling the shots and exercising your throat chakra. You are not obligated to stay in anyone’s life in order to help them get their shit together so if someone makes you feel guilty for doing so, then fuck them! Pile Two, you owe yourself loyalty for sure. Please give it to yourself. Be generous towards yourself.

Cards Used: 6 of Wands, The Magician, 5 of Wands, 8 of Cups, 9 of Wands, Ace of Swords, Justice.

extras: megan thee stallion. rapper. un poco loco. ashley tisdale. donuts.

Pile 3: Pile Three, are you ready? I feel like you’ve been holding onto this very specific arrangement of love. You want to experience the magic of it all. However, it’s been a minute since you’ve been on the scene. I am getting some inexperience here. Maybe you’ve never really dated like that to begin with or it’s been a minute since you’ve gotten out there. I feel like there is actually someone on the horizon that you will come across. This could be someone that you work with or someone that you are already acquainted with. I think that this person would want to take you out on dates and do things the old fashioned way. They would be willing to do whatever you’d like but at the same time, they will take the lead. But in order for this, you have to be comfortable with the uncomfortable. It’s possible that you could also be divorced/widowed/distrusting of the dating scene (that’s completely understandable). But you need to listen to your gut, Pile Three. You will attract your person by keeping that vision pinned in the back of your mind, and I mean it.

Cards Used: 4 of Discs, The Lovers, The Chariot, 3 of Discs, The Hermit, 9 of DIscs.

extras: fresh prince of bel air. melanie barnett/”med school.” peaches. lint. seamstress.

Pile Four, someone’s getting some good good, but at what cost? Being in a sexual relationship with someone who does not share the same end goal as you is not as fun as you’ve been describing it. It was fun at first, but you know you want something more. So, why deny yourself the love that you want? I feel like you are putting in more energy than this person because you want something serious with them but you are not getting anything in return. Now you just feel drained and that sucks. You need to gather the strength to move past this person and put your sacral energy into something that matters. You will only continue to be disappointed because it is a one-sided connection. That person is stealing your energy whether you want to hear it or not. If you want better/more, then act like it. Know your worth, babe! There’s plenty of fish in the sea and there is plenty of fish that would want to wife you up.

Cards Used: The Devil, 9 of Cups, Princess of Cups, 8 of Wands, King of Wands, 4 of Cups, Strength, 5 of Discs, Prince of Discs.

extras: doormat. bald head. venus in the 12th house. argentina. frankenstein. black and white. southern belle. drones. washington d.c.

277 notes · View notes

aureatchi · 1 year ago

Text

˚୨୧ ｡ ˚ IT WAS A NIGHT TO REMEMBER . — osamu dazai

⟢ SYNOPSIS. after a long week of work, you and your best friend retreat to a bar to distract yourself from your responsibilities. however, you find it unfulfilling and decide you need to just go home. as you head out the door, you bump into someone more than familiar.

a/n. it’s the way i immediately thought of him when i first heard this song. <3

info. fem!reader. exes to lovers!au. we have the full recipe…fluff; light angst; gets really sugg. mentions of drinking; scars. your best friend hates dazai. hc dazai doesn’t bandage his tummy. (ᗒᗜᗕ) ﾉ wc. 3.6k

“It’s just a lot.”

You just finished the final shift of your job for the week, and you were more than exhausted and burnt out. You had called your best friend immediately after to get some comfort, and despite how busy she was, she agreed to meet you for some drinks and listen to you rant.

“My coworker’s getting on my last nerve,” you continued venting. You had already told her about select crappy people you had to interact with during the day and then your boss, who regarded you with no empathy whatsoever. “Today’s already been bad enough, and then she decides to just pile more stress on me.”

You swished the ice around your emptied glass, creating clanking sounds while coating the cup in water.

“Maybe you should just quit,” your friend replied, taking a sip out of her glass. “I would’ve been long gone if I had to deal with annoying people all around, nine to five.”

She looked up at you. “Besides, you’re well off anyway. I don’t see why you’re working. Are you…trying to distract yourself?”

You sighed. She knew you too well.

“Love, don’t tell me you’re still hung up over—“

“It’s not what you think,” you cut her off, yet you avoided eye contact. It was easier to lie that way. “I just feel I’d have too much free time on my hands. I’m not sure what I’d do with it.”

You let out a dry chuckle. That wasn’t wholly false in itself, either. At your age, everyone had their own things going on—your best friend being an example. Therefore, you couldn’t find much time to go out with any of your friends, and you weren’t interested in meeting new people either.

You could blame your job. Perhaps the ones you meet every day put a sour taste on your tongue, making you lose any desire to interact with strangers. You could blame your exhaustion. Or…

“Honestly, I think that calls for someone new in your life,” your friend replied. “That’ll surely cure your boredom.”

“No thanks. I don’t feel like dating anyone right now.”

“I’m just kidding,” she laughed. “But it’d help you feel less lonely, no?”

“…you didn’t believe my answer to your earlier question, huh?”

“No. Of course not.”

It had been over five months since you broke up with your boyfriend. You tried seeing people after that, but in truth, you were only using them to try to move on.

Once you realized that it wasn’t working and it wasn’t fair for others to play with feelings, you decided to take on a new job on the other side of the city so you’d still get out of your house and have a change of scene.

“…But you know what? Screw him. I will keep saying again and again, I hate that man. Suicidal maniac. I know it’s hard, but you’re too hot to keep dwelling on this. You need to learn to move o—”

Your friend’s phone suddenly buzzed, interrupting her little lecture.

She picked it up, and you waited for her to finish speaking.

“I’m sorry, I think I got to go. I left my boyfriend with my cat, and he just told me he lost her already…” she shook her head. “Have you gotten out everything you wanted to say?”

“Yeah, thanks,” you replied. “I think I’ll go home soon, too. Not really feeling it.”

She stood up, handing you a bill with a smile. “Drinks on me tonight. Don’t complain—I’m sorry I couldn’t stay longer. And we didn’t order much anyway.”

“That’s okay; I appreciate you coming to listen to me anyway,” you replied.

“The offer is still open, by the way! If you want to find someone, I’ll schedule a date by this weekend.”

You rolled your eyes. “Whatever. Thanks.”

…

You only had one more drink before you decided to leave, still mostly sober—you figured it’d just be best if you’d take care of yourself at home.

Another thing your job was also distracting you from was witnessing all the relationships around you. Your friend had to go home for her boyfriend. You noticed a few couples at the bar you were at. You’d probably see more when you walked outside.

Not that you minded, is what you tried to tell yourself every single time. You didn’t have to be with someone. It’s okay to have a break.

But was it okay to still have a particular person at the back of your head all the time?

You stood up, leaving the bill and tip for your bartender before you walked toward the door. Opening it caused the bell attached to it to jingle. You were greeted by a cool, night breeze—and someone’s torso.

“O-Oh, sorry,” you replied, too tired to even catch the face of the person you bumped into.

But you had no choice when the man didn’t move out of the doorframe to walk in or allow you to pass.

So, when you met the almost-surprised, caramel-kissed eyes on a face framed with dark brown bangs and wavy hair, you felt your heart plunge into your stomach.

You whispered his name—almost scared to say it, the syllables feeling foreign from not having spoken it aloud for months.

“…Osamu.”

He was halfway through saying your name when you dashed for the exit, shoving him aside and speed-walking out.

“Wait! Bel—“ he caught himself and shouted your name once more.

You started walking down the parking lot, unsure of where you were trying to go, except away—away from Dazai. You had forgotten this bar was in the heart of the city. You didn’t know Dazai came to this one, but you knew his work was somewhere close.

“Hey!” you felt a breeze behind your back, and then a hand gently land on your shoulder, stopping you in your tracks.

“What…why are you following me?”

You turned around, getting your second full view of your ex for the night.

His hair was a bit longer. He still had those bandages on his neck—did he bother to change them out recently? His scent was as still as you remembered—grassy and toasty, a resemblance to green tea.

“I’m not sure why I’d leave a girl I know to walk alone at night,” he shrugged. “It’s dangerous!”

You continued walking, not responding to his reply.

“Where are we going?”

“Who’s we?”

“Aw, that was really rude.”

You ignored Dazai, making sure your stroll stayed a few feet in front of him.

You then entered a park, him trailing behind you.

“Why were you at the bar alone?”

“That’s none of your business.” You walked down the path, trees casting dark shadows onto the grass under the moon’s light.

“…And I wasn’t alone the entire time. I was with a friend, but she left to attend something.”

Dazai nodded, trying to catch up to your face. You immediately gave him more than enough space when he reached you, not wanting any invasion of your personal space.

“But you usually don’t drink unless you’re either celebrating or stressed,” he said. “And from what I’ve seen, it looks like the latter.”

You stopped again. “Again, it’s none of your business. Maybe you should focus on yours. You go and drink tons when you’re stressed, too.”

“Hey, I’ve actually gotten better at that…”

“You still ended up at a bar midweek.”

“But I didn’t even go in, no? I’m with you at a park right now.”

You were silent once again. But now you couldn’t complain that he was following you.

Why do I care if he drinks or not?

No. It’s normal. You’d care for the well-being of anyone you know.

You approached a set of swings in the center of the park. It had been ages since you’d been on one, swinging back and forth in carefree.

“Want me to push you?” you heard Dazai over your shoulder when you examined the equipment.

“Heck no,” you responded.

“Why not? It’d be fun!” He moved closer.

“No! I’m not sure if it’d even carry me,” you laughed. “It’s for kids.”

“You can try it. Just sit. And I’ll catch you if it breaks—“

“Shut up. I can catch myself.” You lowered yourself onto the seat, seeing that the metal poles did hold. You swung yourself a bit to test if it’d keep up your weight.

“It works.”

“Great! Can I push you now?”

“No.”

“Why?”

“I don’t trust you.”

“I won’t kill you, bel—I won’t! I promise.” Dazai childishly held out a pinkie toward you.

You sighed. “Fine. Just please don’t push me too high.” You clasped your pinkie around his.

“I got you!” You felt palms on your back, and then a light push that moved you forward, and then gravity pulled you back toward him.

Everything pulls me back to him—my mind and the universe both.

You were suddenly pushed higher, catching you off guard. You felt yourself fly multiple feet off of the ground, and you clutched the metal in panic.

“H-Help—Osamu!”

“You’re fine. You won’t fall,” Dazai chuckled. He pushed you again, sending you even higher than the previous time. You wanted to scream, but it came out more as a laugh.

“Is the thrill fun?” he asked while you were in the air, noticing your smile.

“Yeah, it is—HEY!”

Dazai had pushed you hard, sending you swinging all around the equipment, in a complete three-sixty.

“Osamu!” you cried, the momentum spinning you around once more. You couldn’t stop it—it was too fast.

You were clutched from behind, arms tightly wrapped around your torso to stop the swing. You could hear the sound of Dazai being dragged through the rocks below, but he was able to ground the both of you before you went flying again.

And you felt warm. Despite the evening’s cool air, you felt like you were encompassed in a fireplace’s heat on a winter day.

“Got you.”

You let out a giant exhale of relief. And then, you turned around in anger.

“I told you not to push me that high!”

“But I didn’t kill you, did I? You stayed on the swing the entire time! You were safe! Plus, I think you enjoyed it.”

You stood up, causing Dazai to let go of his arms. “I’m dizzy now.”

“Do you need water? We can buy some. And did you drive here?”

“No, I took a taxi.”

“Let me drive you home then,” he said.

“I think I’m fin—“

“Please,” he cut you off almost urgently, but then he caught his tone and reverted.

“I mean, many kidnappers disguise themselves as taxi drivers. Especially at night.”

“You’re still so cynical,” you replied. “Stop being so protective. It’s not like we’re…nevermind, sorry.”

You didn’t dare look at Dazai’s expression.

…

You each got a yogurt drink, and it helped soothe your dizziness immediately.

You walked by Dazai silently, but compared to earlier in the night, you were no longer repulsed to standing by him.

He opened his car door for you before getting in his seat on the other side.

“What have you been up to these past months?”

You asked as he found his keys, turning them into gear.

“A case. It’s something huge going on.”

Dazai’s work accounted for part of your breaking up with him. He was too secretive—despite you knew that he trusted you so much that he explained to you exactly what his job consisted of, and he only left details out to protect you from getting involved, you couldn’t handle it.

Maybe you were selfish for that. But you needed to know what your boyfriend was up to—if he was safe. Perhaps that was another reason why. You would never let him go if you knew of the exact danger he was volunteering himself in.

“I see. Sleeping okay?”

“If I do, sure.” He was suddenly reaching over your body, grabbing your seatbelt.

Your heartbeat fastened as Dazai hovered over you, pausing to look at anticipating eyes and a risky glance at slightly parted lips.

He sighed before fastening the buckle and moving away, acting like nothing happened.

…

You two drove in silence, you gazing out of the car window to admire how the city looked in the absence of the sun.

A song was suddenly put on. You looked at Dazai.

“Do you still like this song?”

“Yeah,” you replied. He had put on your favorite song, indeed.

You silently thanked him for it. The awkward tension to speak to one another had vanished; you could indulge yourself in music.

Until it ended, of course, but by then, you could see you were almost home.

“Osamu.”

“Yes?”

“This was a really bad idea. I hope I never see you again after this.”

“Probably, but maybe I wanted it to happen. Maybe I thought about you so much that I had to seize this opportunity.”

“What?”

“What if I hope to see you again after this?”

“You can go flirt with any other girl for entertainment.” He did a lot of that, too. Even if it was Dazai’s most efficient tactic for getting information, he had also said he simply couldn’t help it sometimes.

“I don’t find that interesting anymore.”

You looked at his distant, faint reflection through your window.

“…you think about me?”

You were answered with a nod.

Dazai turned, pulling you into your driveway.

“I’ll continue to even more after tonight,” he said. “Whether we see each other again or not. It plagues my mind every day. What I could’ve done better—how much you deserve that I failed to reach.”

He parked. “Of course, I’ve tried to move on. It’s the most fair thing to do for you. But if someone were to ask me, bella, saying that I don’t still love you would be a lie.”

“You’re selfish,” you commented.

“I know. I’m very.”

You opened the door, stepping out of the car.

“Thank you for driving me,” you said.

You walked towards your front door and then looked back at Dazai, who was standing by his side of the car.

You contemplated for a second.

“D-do you have something to do for the rest of the night?” you carefully asked.

“No.”

“Can you stay? Just for a bit. We can talk about things. And hopefully, you get some answers that will help you stop occupying your mind of me.”

You said that as if you were trying to convince yourself, rather Dazai.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah.” You pushed open the door.

Dazai followed you as you walked through the house—through the hallway and to the kitchen.

“Do you want something to eat? Or drink?”

“I’m okay, thanks,” he replied.

“Alright. Uh…feel free to make yourself at home. I’m going to change, I’ll be right back.”

…

You walked into your room, first washing your face in the bathroom. You stared at your face through the window, noticing how pigmented your cheeks were.

Why did I do this?

You were in the middle of changing your pajamas when Dazai knocked on your door.

“Can I come in?”

“Uh—“ you hastily buttoned two thirds of your shirt before, “Yeah.”

A smell of your favorite scent immediately flowed into the room as Dazai came in. It was of the candles you had around your house.

“You lit my candles?”

“Yeah. I got curious because the flavors looked nice. I like them. The scent matches you perfectly.”

“Oh…thanks,” you mumbled. You didn’t know how else to respond.

Dazai glanced around your room. Some things changed—you had moved some things around, redone the decor on your nightstands, changed your bed sheets…what he didn’t know was that you actually donated them after the break-up so you would never see them again.

“Did you need something?”

“Yeah. Do you still happen to have bandages?”

“Yes.” You had Dazai sit on the bed while you searched your closet for the box of bandages you would keep for whenever he came over. Unlike your sheets, you had kept them for your emergency first aid.

Or in case he happened to be in an emergency.

“What do you think you could’ve done better?”

There was a silence right after. You had hit Dazai with a hard question first.

“I’d stop disappearing so much without warning. I only realized how much I took that for granted when we stopped seeing each other. I would try to communicate better…” He looked down. “I’m terrible at it, I know, but I would try harder.”

“Why me? You could move on and find some other girl to treat right the first time.” You found the box, pulling it out.

“Because I would feel like a loser,” he added your name to the end of the sentence. “I was a total jerk to someone who loved me, and then I decide to switch it up for someone new and pretend to start on a clean slate? No, bella—I’m cursed with not forgetting and forgiving myself of the past. It feels cowardly.”

“Osamu, stop. You hurt me, yes, but you weren’t the only one in the wrong.

“I-I’m sorry.” You hadn’t apologized to him yet, through months.

You noticed his eyes almost widen, surprised.

“And I also forgive you. It took awhile, but I’m forgiving you of the mistakes that hurt me,” you continued. “And I’m apologizing to you too. So please forgive yourself. You don’t need to feel guilt.

“It’s only fair to you as well to move on.”

“Why, bella? How is it fair? How is it fair when the only person I want to see is you?”

“Osamu.”

You were right in front of him, the closest you’d been to him that night, discarding how he had tightly hugged you on the swing earlier. You were drowned in emotion that surrounded his desperate pleas.

“Can you please bandage me?”

“Why?”

“I miss your touches.”

You regret asking. He had no shame in expressing his thoughts, no matter what you two were going through. You regret asking, yet…

“Your coat.”

You climbed behind and rid Dazai of the top portion of his clothes—his vest and dress shirt. Then, you started unwinding the bandages on his arms, chest, and neck.

Gently, your fingers grazed the scars that hid underneath his attire, and his mind. Months ago, you had learned what every single mark came from after knowing where each one was—it was one detail Dazai fully opened to you about.

You were thankful you couldn’t see scars of the heart.

He would have thrice as many. Perhaps one of them would include you.

You rewrapped Dazai, leaving only his stomach unbandaged. You moved to do his neck when he paused you with his eyes, mere inches away from his face.

“You still haven’t answered my question.”

You wish he weren’t so pretty. You would’ve been able to rationalize yourself quickly—you would’ve been able to give him a final answer without hesitating. But he ended up being the face of your dreams and the depth of your heart.

“I tell myself it’s fair,” you whispered. His nose was almost touching yours. “I tell myself it’s better that we’re done. But my heart isn’t so sure. It asks the same—how is it fair? To keep myself longing?”

Your arms were around Dazai’s neck with the bandage, yet you did not move to finish.

His gaze moved to your lips. A hand moved to your hair.

“Is it fair? If it truly is, push me away, bella.”

He didn’t force himself any closer, leaving you with the choice despite his yearning appearance. You could feel the warmth of his body on yours and the soft air of his breaths on your cheeks.

“Yes. It’s fair, Osamu.” You came to your conclusion.

Yet, you dropped the bandages, cupped his face towards you, and pressed your lips on his.

“But I’m selfish too.”

You moved your hands to waft through brunette locks as Dazai pulled you onto his lap. He held you tightly—desperate at the acceptance of your invitation.

Closer, along with the fresh scent of green tea, there was a note of sweetness as intoxicating as chocolate. You came to know this pleasant surprise every time you were pressed up against him, tucked well into his embrace.

A hand moved down your waist, tracing your curves. Meanwhile, his kisses became sloppier, changing course to your jaw.

“Bella,” he whispered.

“Osamu?”

“Too much? Just let me know.”

“Don’t stop.”

He planted his lips on your neck, leaving a mark when he moved to the next area.

“I don’t want to lose you again. I missed you so much.”

“I missed you too,” you replied, pulling him down over you.

“Everything about you,” Dazai continued. “It’s enchanting. How you smile when you’re flustered—like right now, and how you react when I touch you here…”

His hand found its way under your shirt, and you started laughing. He knew how and where to draw every specific reaction out of you, including where you were most ticklish.

“Osamu! Stop, hah-!”

You let him stay hovered over you and left his curious hands to wander your skin. Dazai looked free of emotional distress for once—being able to calm just by admiring you. It was like medicine.

“Do you still keep a spare pajama set?” he asked.

“Yes. However, the guest room is being renovated.”

“It’s fine. A couch was a luxury for me at one point.”

“Or you…could stay here. And you can have your favorite side, the side closer to the window.”

“Because I always see how the sun’s rays lay on your skin when I wake up,” he smiled. “And how spellbound your eyes make me when you open them and the light hits it.”

“You remember so much.”

“I told you how much I think about you, belladonna. I remember every night that I’m with you.”

dazai listens to music w/ u if u rb. reblogs are cherished; they support me as a creator. <3

#₊ ⊹˚✉︎𑁤 with love; reverie #dazai x reader #dazai x you #dazai osamu #bsd dazai #dazai fluff #dazai x y/n #bsd x reader #bsd fluff #bungou stray dogs dazai #bungou stray dogs #bungou stray dogs x reader #bsd imagines #bsd x you #bsd oneshot #dazai headcanons #bsd scenarios

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anothermansjeans · 6 months ago

Note

How would youtuber reader react to Spencer getting seriously hurt at work? I'm talking hospital hurt

:(((

cw: mentions of hospitals, spencer gets shot :(, reader is SO worried

wc: 617

youtuber!reader masterlist

“Where is he?”

Your hair was a mess, you were in sweats with two different shoes on, and you're pretty sure you collected a traffic ticket or two. You didn't care though. Spencer was hurt.

“Y/N!”

You rushed towards Penelope, and any other time you would have minded your tone, but that was the last thing on your mind. “Where is he?” You were panicked– rightfully so.

“He’s still in surgery.”

“Do they know anything?” You didn't mean to raise your voice, especially to Penelope, but you couldn't help yourself.

“He was shot in the abdomen, I’m not sure where exactly, but they're working really hard to make sure everything is okay.”

You pulled at your hair as you fell into the closet seat near you. The team was lingering around, everyone wanting to comfort you, but knew better than to talk to someone in this state of distress.

It was a long wait. Five hours. Spencer would've been able to tell you the exact amount of time. When the doctor finally came out, they had a hopeful look. You didn't want to assume anything, you didn't want to be hurt. They told you he would make a full recovery and that he was lucky, very lucky. One inch to the left and it would've… you don't know, some medical term that scared the shit out of you that you can't seem to remember as you now sit next to his sleeping figure.

You've been there all night, refusing to leave his side. You fell asleep sitting in the crappy hospital chair pulled up by his bed, and it was around 6 a.m the next morning when he finally woke up, letting out a groan that caused you to jump up awake.

“Jesus Christ, Spence.” You got up immediately, and moved around the room to grab the cup of water a nurse left.

“Sorry,” his voice was hoarse, and he was still in the process of opening his eyes.

“Here, drink this.” You gently held the cup for him, allowing him to sip through the straw, “and don't apologize, you got shot, you're in pain. I just need you to heal.” Once he had enough water, you placed it down on the table beside him. “I need to call the nurse.”

“Don't go, please.”

You reached down and squeezed one of his hands, “I will be right back. They need to check your vitals, you know this, Spencer.”

And so you got the nurse, she checked his vitals, and got the doctor in to go over what happened with Spencer. He winced quite a bit at the words they were speaking, and when they finally left, you couldn't help the sob that erupted from your lips.

“Hey, what's wrong?” He turned his head towards you, eyebrows furrowed with worry.

You continued to cry, only able to speak in small intervals. “You–” another sob, “Spencer, you could've–”

You don't even have to finish your thought because Spencer already knew, “I know, I know.” He reached for your hand, and pulled you to sit back down beside him. You slumped over so that your forehead was lightly resting on his shoulder. “I’m right here. I’m here, I’m not going anywhere.”

You were trying to catch your breath between the sniffles and hiccups, “I just can't imagine– imagine you not here. I love you so much, Spencer.”

He hummed and brought a hand to your head, brushing your hair back. He wanted to say it was a hazard of the job, but he knew better. So, the two of you sat there, listening to the beeping of the machines, feeling lucky enough to be in each other's company.

youtuber!reader taglist: @im-a-ghost666 @lyd14k4y @happiestcat @hauntedtv13 @obi-wansgirl @charismatic-writer @navs-bhat @itsleilabxtch @strabarrybat

let me know if you would like to be added or removed!

#oh my loves :(#spencer reid #dr spencer reid #dr spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #youtuber!reader

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joelmillers-whore · 1 year ago

Text

Hard Light | Chapter 1

summary: when a new english professor begins teaching your class for the duration of your semester, you can’t help but develop an innocent crush on him. he’s as off-limits as he can be, but that doesn’t deter you in the slightest. after a drunk night, you accidentally email him something that wasn’t intended to ever be seen by anyone. but that doesn’t matter. it triggers a misunderstanding that manifests into an affair with your professor who is twenty years your senior. nothing good could come of this, right?

pairings: professor!joel x college student!reader

word count: 2.2K

series or one-shot

warnings: 18+ explicit, minors DNI, no mention of Y/N, alternate universe, professor/student relationship, eventual smut, self-esteem issues, workaholic, joel x female!reader, infatuation bordering on obsession (stay delulu friends), some sexual thoughts, masturbation (f), joel being a huge tease lol, (will add more tags as i write)

AN: i am so excited by the response that my joel one-shot got a few days ago and i’ve been itching to get something else out to you all. big, giant forehead kisses for those who want one, i love you all. so, anyway, a mini-series about professor joel is coming at you fast. i’ve written the first few chapters, so expect those in the near future. i’m thinking once a week? this fic is going to be something else and i’m so excited to share it with ya’ll. enjoy, and let me know what you think. find my ao3 here for more content and other fandoms.

You were running late for your shift at the coffee shop on campus, rummaging around your dresser, trying to find the low-cut black top you always wore when you had a shift. You weren’t usually one to feed into the peer pressure of those around you, but push came to shove when you found it nearly impossible to keep yourself afloat as a twenty-something student without the added extra tips from your part-time job.

So what if you had to show a little bit of cleavage? Right? There was no harm. Student loans were a bitch and on top of rent and food costs, you had to get a job at the coffee shop and balance a full course load just to make ends meet.

A thought popped into your head and you rushed to your laptop, throwing it open as you checked the time; 5:45 AM. If you busted out your lightning-fast typing skills, you would have enough time to catch the next bus and make it to campus with five minutes to spare. If only your crappy second-hand computer would work.

The thing honestly sounded like a chopper engine, getting ready for lift-off. You were surprised you’d gotten this far with it. Not that you weren’t appreciative, your older brother had passed it down and it had relieved a huge weight— and expense off of your shoulders.

You tabbed into your school portal, typing in your credentials and selecting your English course. You sighed heavily, as you skimmed over the assignment for this week, something to do with a sonnet that you couldn’t care less about. You loved school but ever since becoming an English major, the spark that you once had for literature sort of just evaporated.

You couldn’t tell if it was because of how busy you were with everything else that you just couldn’t find the time to enjoy it, or the thought that really scared you, you had fallen out of love with it.

It had been two years of go, go, go and you were, for lack of a better word, burnt out. You’d tried dropping courses last semester, thinking that you just needed a little bit of ease when it came to your course load, but when that didn’t solve the problem and only made things worse for you, you spent the last two semesters trying to catch up and get yourself to a place where you could finally breathe.

But it wasn’t easy. You were only now caught up to where you had been, the illusion that you were someone who could afford to take time off and slow down was a distant memory.

In bold letters, the words Paid Internship jumped off of the screen. You smiled as you leaned in closer to the screen, making sure you read through everything correctly. This was the break above the surface that you needed, the reprieve that you had been chasing. A paid internship was exactly how you’d be able to make more money and maybe have a little breathing room before you worked yourself into an early grave.

You clicked the mail icon at the top and clicked into a new email, deciding that the worst-case scenario was that you wouldn’t get the internship. All you were doing was inquiring about the application process. Best-case scenario; you’d get it and make some extra pocket money.

You saw the time, cursing under your breath as you slammed the laptop closed, grabbed your phone out of the charger and ran out of the door. You couldn’t be late, not again. You texted your co-worker Jeremy to open the shop without you and explained to him that you were running a few minutes late, as you barely made it to the bus. You climbed on board, scanned your student pass and found a seat near the back. Your chest was burning from the rush of trying to make it on time, but you could breathe easy now.

You checked your messages mindlessly, scrolling through a bunch of unread ones that you didn’t have the heart to answer.

Before you knew it, the familiar monuments and buildings of UT Austin came into view, and the subtle change of scenery from downtown to a more densely packed area made your heart skip a beat. It was the same each time you were back on campus. Which, these days, was often. Sliding out of the seat, you made your way to the front, thanking the driver as the bus came to a complete stop.

The coffee shop was only a short walk from the bus stop but even still you quickened your pace. You didn't want to leave Jeremy alone for long, you already felt bad enough about letting him open by himself. You stifled a yawn as you pushed open the door to the small cafe, leaning your body into the door, slightly cringing at the shrill sound of the bell.

"There you are", a male voice called, making your head snap up. You wiggled your nose, the familiar timbre of your ex-boyfriend's voice ringing in your ears. "It's about time you got your ass down here".

You snickered, shrugging your heavy bag off of your shoulder, and dropping it behind the counter, turning around and greeting him with an unamused smirk.

Jeremy and you had gone out for a few months last year, it was your first and, as of right now, the only short-term relationship that you'd had in college.

Dating your co-worker, even in a relatively small place like the coffee shop on campus, almost always spelled trouble, but Jeremy was not the type to hold something like a failed relationship over your head. He understood that school was a priority for you and making a living for yourself came first, even above something like a relationship. It might not be the healthiest way to live, but it was how it always was.

Jeremy and you had developed a fast friendship, one that went beyond the romantic relationship that you'd had last year. You parted amicably and now, you had someone you could confide in, someone you could trust.

"Why don't you say that to my face?", you teased, raising a brow at him over the milk frother you were setting up.

Jeremy threw his rag down and stalked over to you. "You're snippy this morning", he chided.

You banged into his shoulder playfully, "Doesn't help that I have to see your ugly mug first thing in the morning".

You snorted out a laugh and Jeremy looked at you, feigning defensiveness, "Ouch", he paused, returning back to his post near the coffee machine, "Remind me how we ever went out?".

You scrunched your nose and threw your rag at Jeremy, hitting him square in the face with it, "That was rude".

He shrugged his shoulder, "You started it".

You both devolved into a fit of giggles and fell into a comfortable silence, setting up and getting the coffee shop ready for the day. You had a half-day shift to look forward to and then you had class until the late afternoon. The days were long and the nights were longer.

You usually found yourself nose-deep in your textbooks, more often than not, or some classic novel that was required for class, not moving from the couch until your eyes were red and you were seeing double.

Only then did you retire to sleep, crashing hard until you had to wake up and do it all again the next day.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

The coffee shop had been bustling with people since six in the morning, and at one in the afternoon, it hadn't let up, only now you had to go to class. Waving Jeremy goodbye, you sidestepped Tara, the fourth-year who was covering the rest of the afternoon and closing shift.

You'd crossed the far side of campus, passing by the science building and one of the massive libraries that had acted like a second home to you back when you’d been studying for exams when you were a freshman. You could thank your obnoxious roommates for that one.

Entering the lecture hall, bodies pressed into you as you weaved through the growing crowd, trying to find a spot in the middle where you could see and hear your English professor. But also blend in with the masses. As if the universe had other plans in mind, and everyone suddenly showed up to the Tuesday lecture all at the same time, you found yourself picking a seat near the front, an exasperated groan leaving you.

You hated sitting at the front, not because you didn't want to get called on to answer something or because you didn't know the answers, but because you did. You wanted to get through your four years as quickly and unscathed as possible and if people knew, mainly professors, that you knew more about the subject matter than you needed to, you'd surely get called on more often, making you stick out in ways you didn't want.

It was a terrible curse, going through life with the self-esteem that you did. But it was how you were raised. Blend in. Don't be too loud. Be quiet and only observe. Nerves rapped at your insides when you thought about getting called on when class started. Your heart rate ticked up and you found that your hands were beginning to get clammy, your throat constricting with each breath.

You rubbed your hands up and down your thighs, grounding yourself with the sensation of the material.

With a jump, you sat up straighter in your seat, being jostled from your thoughts by a loud slam. You snapped your head toward the entrance, eying the person who had startled everyone. It was a man carrying a briefcase.

Your lips tilted up at the edges, amusement tickling you when you thought of anyone using a briefcase nowadays. But here this man was, head down as he made his way to the front of the room, toward the desk.

You couldn't help keeping your eyes trained on him. On how his slacks tightened around his butt, moulding to the shape and curve of it. You bit your bottom lip out of reflex, your eyes dragging down the length of the mystery man who had crashed your lecture. Maybe he was a TA? Your brows furrowed when you thought about how your professor was nowhere in sight.

The man with the briefcase placed his case on the desk, turning to face the audience of students who blinked back at him, who now settled down enough to hear him speak. Air caught in your throat when his eyes flicked momentarily to you, and lingered on you for half a second longer than you'd expected. He had massive, warm brown eyes, and soft wrinkles that danced at the edges of his eyes when he smiled, making him seem more boyish than he appeared.

He looked older than a TA would but then again, who were you to judge someone's position in life? You thought that his age did nothing to undermine just how attractive he was, if anything it added to it.

The man, who may or may not have been moonlighting as your English TA cleared his throat, nodding his head, "My name is Joel, well, Professor Miller to most, but 've always been a little bit more informal than my peers".

He began to circle the wooden desk nervously, his large hand finding the edge of it and stroking it far more sensually than necessary. You flexed your fingers, gripping the arm of your seat to stabilize yourself. "So, you can call me Joel from here on out... since we'll be seeing more of each other from now on".

Murmurs began to break out around the lecture hall, and confused and hushed whispers followed.

Professor Miller— Joel, mumbled something incoherent, and you were unable to hear it from where you sat. He cleared his throat again, "Professor McCarthy has taken a leave of absence, so I'll be filling in for him for the remainder of the semester".

You crossed your legs, feeling heat rise and a furious blush break out across your face, and shuffled in your seat, a loud creak emitted from it and you stilled, praying that the loud sound had only been heard by you and no one else. But when you lifted your gaze, Joel's eyes were already locked on you, blown and brimming with cautious inquiry. A touch of a smirk graced his lips.

"And I look forward to getting to know each and every one of you, personally". His eyes were still on you, not ready to release you from their hold.

His tongue darted out to wet his lips and you couldn't help but stare. You had every reason to look away from him, he was your professor and given the clear age difference, he was someone who was off limits. But when he didn't look away from you either, trapping you with his gaze, your face heated up, suddenly aware that he was purposely staring at you.

You swallowed thickly, heart hammering as Joel's eyes finally drifted away from you and back to the faces of your classmates. He continued on with addressing the class, and you noticed that he avoided your eyes for the rest of the lecture.

Only one thought rang through your mind as you tried and failed to focus back on the lecture. This was going to be one long semester.

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talesfrommedinastation · 1 year ago

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My redneck neighbor Doug's interpretations on various 'Bad Batch' characters: Side Character Edition!

I'm chuffed that everyone thinks my neighbor Doug is funny: he really is a gem. I had no idea we'd bond over Star Wars and crappy weather, but here we are.

Naturally, I had to bother him about other characters that showed up on The Bad Batch, so, here we go!

Phee Genoa: Ah-ha, that there’s Church Lady. You know her, she’s got a big square in her pocketbook and you don’t know if it’s pound cake or a brick, because the Lord saves but He can’t help you in the alley when you’re in Treme and the streetlights just turned on. She has two ex-husbands who are both preachers and they turned to Jesus because they are so scared of Church Lady in court.

(So I guess he’s saying Phee has raw WHO DAT energy, for my Saints fans out there)

Cid: Looking at this fat lizard bitch makes me hungry. I call that one Houma-BBQ because I’m guessing we could feed a whole parish fire station based on the size of her tail. I wish she’d shut up, she reminds me of my mother-in-law.

Cad Bane: Homeboy looks like a Sesame Street character who teaches Big Bird about concealed carry laws. I call him Gun Safety Muppet. I don’t like him because he shot my Wife and I’s Boyfriend on the other show and his robot needs to be tossed into a wood chipper.

(“I’m not gay, but Jenny and I…well, we would make an exception to that man. You ever see ‘Deadwood’? Man is fine. I’m not GAY.”)

Fennec Shand: That’s The Chick that’s in Everything. She was on ER and Boba Fett and I think a Marvel show too? I like her. Hope she kills Gun Safety Muppet and hurls his blue ass into a dumpster.

Howzer: That’s my niece’s boyfriend, Jorge. We all love Jorge, nice guy, owns an auto repair shop and always remembers plates and napkins for the cookouts after church.

Gregor: Jorge’s cousin, Manny. Met him once at Christmas in Miami, nice guy, only drinks brown liquor and insists everyone arm wrestle him. But he’s got a good job as a PE teacher, we respect education, come on now.

The Martez Sisters: Aw, man, it’s Jorge’s Unemployed Sisters. I hate it when they show up for Christmas and get into fights with my momma.

(“Doug, you know they’re not related to the clones at all, right?” ��Says who?” “The PLOT?” “Eh, they’ll change it, just watch.”)

Mayday: Aw, I liked this guy so much! That’s Sassy Park Ranger, he’s the type that gives you your camping permits, warns you about the bears, and then is all disappointed when you don’t properly stow your food and the bears destroy the campsite. I need to go back to Little River Canyon, that place was pretty.

Lt. Nolan: THAT STUPID BLOND JACKASS. (Doug was so enraged by the guy he had nothing else to add. Damn.)

Senator Chuchi: Why does this lady make me want a blue slushie? I’ll call her the Sonic Special. They need more Sonics here in the north, they really do.

Cody: That’s Obi-Wan’s Boyfriend, he’s sad all the time. We know why. (Confirmed that Doug is a Codywan shipper and I don’t know what to do about that)

Royce Hemlock: Is that Jimmy Neutron after he grew up and became one of those guys that’s on the internet all the time writing creepy things? It’s Jimmy-the-Scientist. He looks like the type of person dogs get weird around.

Rex: That's Rex. He's a king. Respect him.

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thespiritssaidso · 1 month ago

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some people do it by the book (but i prefer to go by feel)

Summary: Shawn and Lassiter are undercover at a high-end resort where all visitors get their own private cabin. All the two need to do now is settle in — and chop up some wood to make a fire, of course.

Notes: okay, so I’m basing this place off of the Big Cedar Lodge (I went there one year with my family on a road trip). I’m not sure if there’s a resort like it in California, but oh well. Currently as I’m writing this, it is 3 in the afternoon and the internet at my job is crappy and won’t let me look at maps without taking forever and a half to load it up. And if anyone knows me then they know that my patience is extremely limited (part of the reason why I’m only good at writing one shots lmao) and I don’t really feel like taking longer than necessary to make sure the made-up place I am writing for the made-up people to stay at actually exists.

TL;DR this place exists in Branson, Missouri, but I’m too lazy to make sure a place like it also exists in California.

Anyways, enjoy!! I know we all love a good Shassie at a cabin au.

Flufftober day 8: Chopping and Piling Wood

—————

Lassiter grunted as he swung his ax into the block of wood, chopping it neatly in two. He leaned over and tossed the half still sitting on the block and tossed it onto a small pile that was slowly building up. After throwing the other half onto the pile right after the first, he reached up and wiped a line of sweat beading on his forehead.

Currently, he and Shawn were undercover as a married couple to investigate a few disappearances that were happening at the Great Pine Lodge.

The place was as fancy as a cabin in the woods could get. Full plumbing, air conditioning for when it got hot, heaters for when it got cold, a large king size plush mattress complete with expensive feeling sheets and covers. And that was just the cabin.

About a stone’s throw from where they were staying was a large beautiful lake, with water so clear Lassiter could almost see the bottom.

The other cabins people were staying at were a decent distance from their own, close enough to see but not close enough to hear the inhabitants if they were inside.

A paved road — not a gravel road — sat in front of the cabins, shuttle buses on speed dial on the rotary phone sitting on the bedside table inside, so that visitors wouldn’t have to waste their own cars’ gas to go to the dining hall, or the gift shop, or even the arcade (yes, this place had an arcade).

Lassiter had always dreamed of going here one day. It was the perfect vacation spot for him and Shawn; fine dining, a beautiful view, activities the both of them would enjoy.

But now was not the time for dreaming of a perfect vacation (although hopefully there’d be some time left for them to do so). Now was time for investigation. Or more aptly, chopping firewood, in Lassiter’s case.

Before chopping another log, Lassiter stopped to reroll his sleeves that were slowly unraveling themselves. At the moment, all he was wearing was the button up he normally had on under his jacket, the pants to match said jacket, and his work shoes. He probably should’ve put a little more thought into his wardrobe.

Too late. He’d committed and now he had to stick with it. Lassiter was just glad that Shawn was still unpacking inside. He was always self-conscious about his arms, how much of a stick he looked when he wasn’t wearing something loose — like his suit jacket.

He looked at his biceps with disdain. It wasn’t like he was weak and couldn’t lift anything. His muscles just never showed unless he flexed them, hiding like some kind of sleeper agent, or whatever they were calling it nowadays.

Whatever. So long as no one was here to see him make an idiot of himself trying to chop wood. Lassiter was eventually able to cut them into halves once he figured out a comfortable rhythm, but the start was just godawful. His first swing into the first log didn’t have enough weight behind it and was at an awkward angle, so it had bounced away from the wood and left only a small dent. His second swing was too strong and split right between the log and lodged itself into the chopping block.

But he was better now, after cutting for what felt like hours, though realistically it had probably been thirty minutes.

After placing another log down, Lassiter prepared to swing the ax once more when-

“That is the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.”

Lassiter nearly jumped out of his skin. There, leaning against the door was none other than his boyfriend. From what he could see, it looked like Shawn made himself a mug of something warm, judging by the faint steam emanating from it. Tea? Coffee? Hot cocoa? Probably the latter, knowing his boyfriend’s taste for sweet things.

Lassiter felt the tips of his ears warm, and he knew they’d gone red. “How long were you standing there for?”

“Ah, time is irrelevant-”

“Shawn.”

“At least ten minutes.”

Ten minutes. Ten minutes of just watching him swing an ax at wood. Lassiter had no clue what he looked like when he was cutting wood, but he was probably ridiculous. Shawn had probably seen every mistake he’d made.

Lassiter turned back around, doing his best to ignore the way Shawn was staring at him and lifted the ax once more. He swung with precision and split the log neatly. “Don’t lie, Shawn.” He said, referring to what Shawn had said that startled him. “You know I hate it-”

“What? No no no! Carly, I’m being serious! Look, this is my serious face.”

He didn’t look, not wanting to see his boyfriend who was most likely holding back laughter. He didn’t say anything either, simply returning to the task at hand. Although now he knew he had an audience, which somehow made swinging an ax ten times harder than it was originally.

There was quiet, uncharacteristic for Shawn. Only the crunching of dead leaves and the swish of grass told Lassiter that he was walking over to him.

“Back up. I don’t want to accidentally hit you with the-”

“Carlton, look at me. Lemme see those baby blues.”

At the use of his name, Lassiter turned his head to Shawn. The lack of a nickname and his tone told the detective that he really was being serious.

And he was right. Lassiter couldn’t remember the last time the otherwise childish man looked this serious about something. He said nothing as he looked into Shawn’s eyes, grass green grounding him. He dropped the ax, a dull thud breaking the quiet.

“I love all of you, Carly. Doesn’t matter how much you hate it, I look and see you. I don’t see flaws, I see the sexiest body a man could ask for.”

Lassiter couldn’t help the grin, or the tiny laugh that bubbled out at the last thing Shawn said. “Alright, if you say so.”

“I do say so, and my word is law. You should know this by now, Carlytown.” Shawn stated matter-of-factly.

This time, Lassiter let out a snort at his boyfriend’s statement. “Is that right?”

“It is.”

“Mhm. By the way, did you finish unpacking our stuff?” If his calculations were correct, Shawn had taken all of twenty minutes. And from past experience Lassiter knew that it took him at least an hour to get everything perfectly situated for the both of them.

“We can do that later, I know you have a specific way you like to have your toothbrush set up. Right now there’s a suspect somewhere that’s begging to get caught.”

“I’m not sure any criminal actually wants to get caught.”

“Really? Because I’m sensing they’re at the arcade right now, writing a secret message in morse code at the game where you have to shoot down those rubber ducks.”

“Are they, or do you just want to go play games?”

“That’s neither here nor there. Point is, I’ve already called a shuttle to pick us up and take us to the main building. They should be here in about… five minutes?”

Lassiter stared at him incredulously. “Five- five minutes? And you’re only telling me this now because why?” That just barely left him with enough time to get out of his sweaty button up and into something clean. It was just the arcade, but he’d prefer to go out without smelling weird in public.

“Well, I would have told you earlier, but I just couldn’t stop watching you chop that wood. Seriously, Carly, you have no idea how hot you looked swinging that ax.”

“I- alright, fine. Could’ve used more warning time, but it’s fine. Where’d you put my clothes?”

“In the dresser on the left of the bed, everything’s in the top drawer.”

—————

Notes: yeah yeah yeah, the name of the place they’re staying at is just a rip from the place I based it off of. Sue me.

oh and the title is a lyric in C'mon Girl by Red Hot Chili Peppers, i couldn't come up with an actual title by myself, sorry

ao3 link

#shawn spencer #carlton lassiter #Shassie #psych #psych 2006 #psych usa #psychusa #psych tv #psych tv show #psych show #psych fic #psych fanfic #psych fanfiction #toast tries to write #fluff #flufftober2024

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v3nusxsky · 9 months ago

Note

Hii hope your doing well :)

if your up to writing requests can I request a fic where R is in a maths exam and its really stressing her out so she slips to a really little headspace and the teacher won’t let R leave maybe beacuse they think she’s faking it or something to get out of the test. so Larissa and/or Marilyn comes in and saves R and gives lots of cuddles and comfort and tells the teacher off. Then they go back to Larissas office and R gets take care of and looked after and its all sweet and fluffy.

Sorry for the long request and have a good day :)

- ⭐️

Stressful situations

*Authors note~ we are gonna be Marilyn’s Teaching aid for a botany exam so not a student but a member of staff so we can be in a relationship with weems. I’m in an educational setting for placement which is why I changed it slightly I hope you don’t mind.*

Trigger warnings~ Agere little fem r cg Larissa cg ish Marilyn crappy invigilator stress cg Marilyn r and Marilyn are besties Marilyn isn’t laurel

Prompt~ see ask^^

The most stressful time of year for anyone in an educational setting as adults is a tie between the Christmas holidays and exam season. For assistants like you it was always the exam season that got you stressed the most. From the teachers being stressed with all things exams and the students being in various states of overwhelmed and burnt out coming to you for support. Safe to say you hate exam season but you always try your best to be as helpful as possible which is one of the reasons Marilyn became your best friend. You are her right hand woman when it comes to anything in school or personal life and she considered you a great friend.

Working with your best friend is great, until you realise you can’t hide from your girlfriend here either. See Larissa Weems, your ever loving partner, is the principal of Nevermore. Marilyn being your trusted friend soon meant she became one of Larissa’s too. And over time Marilyn learnt your secret and how to spot the signs too, you didn’t mind her knowing but now when your trying to hide from Larissa so she won’t notice, it’s more of a curse and not a blessing.

This exam Wednesday and Bianca have been particularly difficult, if one asked for a pen then the other was right behind asking for the same. If one noticed that the other had managed to race ahead questions then the other was racing to catch up while trying to sneakily out each other off. A constant need to one up another has you running back and forth the exam hall. A peak at the clock reveals you are unable to leave the room for another hour. But now with how overwhelmed and exhausted you are you aren’t sure you’ll make it.

You’d have to. The head invigilator looked at you like you’d grown three heads when you’d ask to get some air. It’s not unheard of that helpers for exam season would try to leave or get off the job early but you couldn’t help feeling the need to slip. But no. The guy stood firm in his answer and simply told you to stop being a drama queen and do your damn job. Fortunately, for you, Marilyn over heard everything and immediately pressed her little button on her pager to get Larissa here.

Being called to the exam hall as a principal is never a good thing, truly the blonde is getting a little tired of threatening Miss Addams with expulsion from Nevermore. But arriving at the hall tells her one thing, it’s not a professional call as Marilyn walks towards her with a sad smile and simple gesture towards you. There you stood desperately trying to keep control over your headspace and not break down crying but the two women just knew you didn’t have much more strength to give. “Thank you Miss Thornhill, come to my office when you’re done here.”

“Hi sweet girl” Larissa whispered as she stood in front of you, “look at me darling” she commanded and you did so instantly with tear’s shining in your eyes. “Let’s get out of her dear” was all it took to snap you out of the haze. “Can’t. Won’t let me” you mumbled stepping back from the woman. “He won’t stop you my love, come with me.” But of course as you start to leave the boss once again asked you what on earth you’re doing trying to leave only to be shut up with a quick few words from Larissa before she guides you out of the room.

Leaving the exam hall immediately triggered your headspace to slip at an almost instant pace but that’s okay because Larissa would ensure your safety and you knew that with your whole heart. With a hand on the small of your back, Larissa guided you towards her office with an ease that only came with experience, a gentle hand guiding you home. “It’s okay my darling, you can let it happen now love” she murmured making sure to shut the door and usher you further into her office.

As expected you broke down into harsh sobs that violently tore through your body. The sight alone caused the Principals heart to clench in sadness as she scooped you into her arms and cocooned you with her whole presence while whispering sweet praises in your ear in a hopes that maybe her scent and the words would help aid her in calming you down. You sat in the womans lap hands tightly wrapped in her blazer as if she was going to disappear at any moment, attempting to infuse your body to hers.

That almost seemed to do the trick until the sound of a gentle knock startled you, eyes flickering up to the woman whom you entrusted your life for an answer. “It’s just Mari sweetheart. I know my little one loves her Mari don’t you? Hmm?” She murmured before calling out to the red head to enter.

“How is our little star doing?” If anyone can calm you down it’s your girlfriend but on the occasions that Larissa had to rush off to a board meeting or deal with another Addams saga of trouble you knew Marilyn would act as her stand in. A fact that had taken adjustment from all parties but worked like a well oiled machine.

Instead of Larissa answering you mumbled into the woman that you were tired causing both women to be shocked, normally you wouldn’t involve yourself in this conversation, happy to just soak up Larissa’s attention before she had to hurry off. “I’m sorry darling girl, mama has to go to a meeting little love, do you think Mari can sit with you till I’m back? We will nap after that love” Larissa whispered causing you do whimper at the word go. “No mama I don’t like that” would’ve hurt Marilyn if she wasn’t so use to this routine, eventually you’d end up sitting closely, head leaning on her shoulder as you attempted to colour your mama a masterpiece. However, neither woman found it easy to watch you sob at the situation, pleading with her not to leave you, pleading your friend to make her stay. The closing of the door was always the final nail in that coffin.

Two hours later Larissa returned to her office to be met with you resting your head in Marilyn’s lap and lazily playing with her fingers. “Little star, I spy someone’s mama” Marilyn murmured to not startle you from your sleepy haze. “Mine mama?” You whispered hopefully, seconds later you’re scrambling off her lap and crashing your body into Larissa’s steady one. “Mama! I miss you! I did picture with Mari!” You squealed happily dragging your mana to your art work. “She was a star as usual Larissa, after her tears she was so good isn’t that right my star?” Marilyn murmured causing you to nod your head excitedly, mama always likes when you’re good for your friends.

That was how you ended up snuggled into Larissa for a lunch time nap after Marilyn had to go back to a revision session for another Botany exam coming in the next few days. Despite the start of the day, you knew that no matter what you had the best girlfriend and best friend who would advocate for your needs if you can no longer do so.

#anon answered #v3nusxsky answers #fanfic #anon requested #larissa weems x reader #larissa x you #larissa cg #larissa #larissa weems #larissa x reader #larissa x y/n #larissa x reader x marilyn #Marilyn cg #marilyn thornhill #Agere #weems #principal weems

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abibliophobiaa · 8 months ago

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the ghost of you

eddie munson x f!reader. (1.2k words).

warnings: grief; angst; major character death.

——

Raining.

It always rained on crappy days. The ones where clients yelled, your boss had you contemplating how much you really needed your job, when coworkers had you ready to toss your notebook across the workroom and shout into the open air just to expel some of the stress radiating from your form.

It also happened to rain on a day you thought you might try and get some fresh air for once, what with the weather warming in Hawkins after a brutal few months. You regretted that decision now — regretted even more so that you left your jacket at home, deeming your blouse enough to keep you warm from the slight chill still clinging to the air as spring turned into summer.

That same blouse clung to your form now. Felt like it was pasted to your body as you flicked on the light to your apartment, illuminating the space. Take away boxes lined the countertops. Your coffee table still had one too many mugs on the surface. The dishes were piled high in the sink. The garbage probably needed to be taken out soon, but you decided that was for another day.

You huffed a sigh, stripping down to your bra as you marched down the short hall into your bedroom, brushing your fingers along the strings of Eddie’s guitar as you always did before pulling out a long tee shirt and slipping it over your form. Jeans were kicked off your thighs and shorts were tugged on to replace them, feet sliding into a pair of slippers on your side of the bed.

Humming to yourself, you began washing the dishes in the sink, listening to voicemail after voicemail left on your answering machine. The last of which being Steve’s voice spilling through the speaker, “Hoping today went well. First day back, right? If you need anything, let us know. Rob and I love you, okay?”

A smile quirked your lips, growing further as a pair of arms slipped around your form, pulling you against a firm chest. “Careful with that knife, baby. You know what happened last time. Can’t afford another ER bill.”

You huffed out a laugh, dropping the knife into the dish rack. “Maybe I wouldn’t have needed three stitches if you hadn’t distracted me that day with your wandering hands, would I?”

“Touché, sweetheart,” he snorted, hopping up onto the counter. “Rough day?”

“Everyone…was fine.”

“Just fine?”

With a nod, you said, “Just treated me differently. Like I was, I don’t know, fragile. Walked around me like they were all on eggshells.”

“And how are you feeling?” he asked, head tipping to the side. “Today was a big day.”

It was. First day back, just like Steve said. “I’m…okay.”

“Just okay?”

“Just…okay.” How could you be anything but? “I missed you. I always miss you.”

“I know,” Eddie sighed. “Baby, you’re wearing a mark into that dish.”

“I’m sorry,” you whimpered out. Tossed the dish into the sink. Sunk down with your back against the kitchen cabinets, knees curled tight to your chest. “I thought I could do it, but I can’t.”

Eddie appeared near your hip, a hand on your shoulder, lips at your temple. “And that’s okay. No one said it needed to be today — or even next week. Hell, not even next year. There are no timelines on this shit.”

“There should be no timeline at all,” you cried, pushing into the heat of his body, the circle of his arms. “It shouldn’t have happened at all.”

“Life is cruel. We don’t always get what we want. We make plans and the guy upstairs laughs, right?” Eddie chuckled weakly, a watery thing, a sound that cleaved your heart. “But you tried. And that’s all that matters. I’m proud of you.”

“It's just…I hate this.” Your head fell against his lap, his fingers curling with your own, his other palm resting against your hip. “It feels like there’s this giant hole in my chest and it’s never going to go away. Every time it beats is a reminder of how different everything is — how unfair it all is. How I’m like this and —”

“It won’t always be this way,” he whispered, holding your fingers tighter, holding you closer. “It’s hard now. It feels like shit now. But every day you’re doing better. You’re smiling more. You’re taking care of yourself. Laughing — and you know I love that laugh. There will be those moments where you’re back there, where you remember. And you’ll always remember. One day you’ll find it won’t hurt as much. It’ll still be there, it’ll have happened, but it won’t feel like this impossible thing.”

“That scares me the most,” you choked out, back of your hand swiping at your eyes. “The pain makes it real. It makes us real. It makes you real. If it goes away…I’m afraid I’ll start to forget. That it’ll have all been a memory.”

“Baby…”

“I don’t want to close my eyes some nights, because that’s usually when I daydream, and I’m starting to forget all the lines of your face. The dimple in your smile. Exactly how your hair falls. I forget the sound of your laugh, your voice…I miss the sound of your heartbeat every night.”

You breathed in a shaky breath, heart shattering in your chest. “I’m afraid I’ll wake up one day and you’ll be gone. Forever this time.”

At least now you have him like this.

Like a ghost you dance with every night in your living room.

“I’ll always be with you, you know?” He pushed at your shoulder a little, rolling you onto your back, your head still in his lap. His hand rested over your sternum, over the space behind your ribs where your vital organ twisted painfully. “Right here. Corny as it is, but I’m allowed a pass because I’m —”

“Don’t say it,” you pleaded, cupping his cheek with a palm.

You couldn’t feel him — not really. But you pretended when he visited you like this. Tried to remember, tried to hold on to what once was — what would no longer be.

“I’ll love you forever, you know?”

Tears glowed in his eyes.

Unshed, yet there all the same.

“I died loving you,” he continued, “so it’ll always be true.”

“I think you took some of that love with you,” you whimpered, trying to remember the way his forehead felt against yours as you leaned up to rest yours against his.

“You’ll love again,” he said, though you vehemently shook your head ‘no.’ “Your heart's too big to keep it shut forever.”

“I don’t want to talk about this.”

He smiled softly. “Then we won’t. Not today, okay? Come here. Let me hold you.”

He stood to his feet, holding out a hand to you. You stood in the circle of his arms, cradled in his love, praying that this wasn’t the last time. Just like you did every time he came to visit before it.

“I like this with you — dancing with you in our kitchen.” He whispered the words against the crown of your head. You rested your ear against his quiet chest. “I wish I had told you more…before.”

“You can tell me now.”

“I like dancing with you in our kitchen.”

“Me too,” you told him, swaying to the sound of the rain falling outside. “Please tell me you’ll be back.”

“I will.” A promise. “One day I won’t be, though. And you’ll be okay.”

“But not today?” you pleaded, looking up into those eyes you missed so much.

“Not today.” He sealed the promise with the whisper of a kiss. “Today I just want to hold you.”

——

#lunaloveseddie #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson blurbs #eddie munson angst #Spotify

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merlincmgirl · 2 months ago

Text

Period Sex - Fives x FReader - NSFW

Summary: When Fives returns home after a rough tour, he already knew how he wanted to spend the little time he had off with you doing. Only mother nature has other plans. Fives offers to help you out with your period, and hearing only good stuff, you accept his help.

Characters: Fives

Pairing: Fives x F!Reader

Word Count: 7,613

Warnings: PinV sex, fingering,

Authour's Note: Really shit summary, I'm sorry. This kicks off my first day of Clone Kinktober 2024. I hope I was able to do Fives justice.

You were sobbing on the couch, that was how Fives found you when he returned back from a debrief with Rex and General Skywalker.

Everything was going perfectly, you had cooked his favourite meal, tidied everything up and were going to jump in the shower and get ready to dress up for him when it happened. The dreaded monthly caller, the red wave or whatever you wanted to call it. Your period arrived, putting a halt to all of your plans with it’s intensity and all the pain from the cramps that seemed to creep up out of nowhere. Well not nowhere, you had been feeling a bit crappy but wanted to shrug it off because Fives was finally going to be home. Your plans were ruined!

Fives blinked at the sight, mouth open to greet you as he normally would when he spotted you on the couch, crying your heart out. Quickly shoving his bag onto the floor and putting his helmet to one side, he quickly hurried over to you.

“Mesh’la, what’s wrong? What’s happened?” he breathed, kneeling in front of your curled form and laying a hand on your knee. Any number of events were running through his head: you were hurt, argument with a friend, getting fired from your job, death in the family or maybe someone had been threatening you and making you uncomfortable. All of these possibilities were running through his head and he tried to come up with solutions for each one to help his best girl out.

Letting out a little cry in surprise, you jumped when you heard Fives’ voice and felt his touch. He was here? When? You hadn’t even heard the front door open. “Fives?” you croaked out, before letting out a loud sob. You were so happy he was home!

“Hey, it’s okay, love, it’s okay. Tell me what’s wrong” Fives soothed, climbing up from his kneel and sitting beside you. Wasting no time, he scooped you up in his arms, bringing you onto his lap and holding you close. Running gentle gloved fingers up your spine and squeezing your thigh as he held you close to him, he let you cry as much as you wanted, although that didn’t stop his worry. You would tell him when you were ready, until then he’d hold you and comfort you.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry!” you cried, as your stomach gave a particularly hard twist and you buried yourself even more into his neck, wrapping your arms around your middle to keep the pain at bay.

“Don’t be sorry, cyare. Can you tell me if you’re hurt? Do I need to call Kix?” Fives mumbled into your hair, rocking you slightly from side to side, warm hands always stroking lengths down your body to calm you down.

Sniffling a little, you wiped your nose on your sleeve before shaking your head. “No” you hiccuped, breaths still shaky and shuddering through you as your crying stopped. You felt worse now, your nose all bunged up, head sore from crying and eyes red rimmed. You wanted nothing more than to curl into bed and feel sorry for yourself, just as you deserved. The thought of a warm, comfy bed and lounging around with snacks were a drastic change in the plans you had for tonight. “I’m sorry!” you mumbled, eyes tearing up again and bottom lip shaking.

“Nothing to be sorry for babe, I’m here now. I’ve got you” he assured, brushing a strand of hair from your face as it had been stuck to your skin by your tears and the press of his armour against your cheek. “Feel up to telling me what’s going on?” he asked, making sure to keep any expectation out of his tone. Fives wouldn’t force you into talking if you didn’t want to, but he would offer to listen to your woes and support you as much as he could.

“I’m being stupid” you huffed, looking away from him as you squeezed your stomach once more.

“Hey, don’t talk about my cyare like that” he frowned, finger hooking under your chin to bring you back around to face him. He didn’t like you talking so negatively about yourself. It was something that he was working with you on, never letting a bad word come from your mouth about yourself. To him, you were the reason he kept coming back after each battle, the reason to keep fighting, the light in a world of darkness. He wouldn’t let you forget it either.

Sighing, you took his hand in your own, curling your fingers together and admiring how strong they were. These hands had fought battle droids, handed death out to people who had tried to kill him, carried out feats of strength and bravery you could never imagine. Yet you only knew them as the soft, caring hands that he pressed all his love into you with. The hands that helped pick you up when you were struggling and needed someone to help lighten the load. The hands that would stroke patterns and draw silly tookas onto your back in the morning light. So different, yet the same. Your ARC Trooper was as complex as any other person, alien or human, and you knew he would always be there when you needed him.

“I came onto my period this afternoon” you admitted quietly, blush instantly heating up your cheeks and causing you to duck your head away from his quickly understanding look.

It wasn’t as if you’d never spoken to Fives about your period. In fact, he was a great balm during the horrible symptoms and wild fluctuations of hormones that had to be suffered through. If he was on planet during one of these times, he always looked after you. Making sure you were comfortable, running out for snacks and period equipment and painkillers when you needed them. If he wasn’t doing that, he was curled up around you, holding you and giving you cuddles when you wanted him to. He even helped massage your stomach when it was really bad, as he always burned hotter than the sun when compared to you. But it was just the fact that it wasn’t the done thing to speak about this, especially with your partner. You remembered your mother and aunts all speaking in whispers about that time of the month, especially when their partners were around.

But you should have known Fives was different, because he suddenly jumped up, placing you gently back onto the sofa before staring at you wide eyes! If it was anyone else you’d be offended at how quickly he had pushed you off him, but you knew Fives wasn’t reacting in that way. He shook his head, covering his eyes with his hand and face pulling into a deprecating look. “I’m sorry cyare, you must have been feeling pretty uncomfortable sitting on all this plastoid! Let me get it off and we’ll get you more comfortable” he apologised, already working his chest plate off as he hurried to the front door.

“Fives it’s fine, you-” you protested, blinking in surprise at how quick he moved and the way his brain had instantly turned to your comfort. In all honesty, the armour was a little hard and you weren’t able to cuddle as close to his warmth as you’d like, but as long as you could hold him you were fine with it.

There was a loud grunt and a thud before Fives cut you off. “No! My cyare is not going through the worst day of her life while being uncomfortable” he announced firmly, poking his head around the corner to shoot you a playfully stern look.

“I go through this every month” you reminded, smile beginning to tug at your lips. Just being with him was enough to make you feel better. You grimaced as a thigh guard came flying out of the little nook that stored his armour while he was here.

“Semantics” you heard him argue, making you giggle and shake your head at his silliness.

“That’s not what that means” you tried to point out as he sauntered towards you in just his blacks.

“Whatever” he rolled his eyes, pointing a finger at you. “You are going to be pampered and treated like the beautiful person you are” he insisted, leaving no room for arguments.

Sighing in defeat, you patted the sofa cushion next to you, just wanting to feel his warmth pressed against you but he shook his head, stepping away.

“First things first, have you had your painkillers?” he asked, raising an eyebrow at you.

“Yes, as soon as it happened” you confirmed, smiling at how caring and concerned he was for you.

“Good! How about heat pad and/or hot water bottle?” he questioned, returning your smile with a blinding one when he found out you were looking after yourself properly.

Nodding, you lifted up your baggy shirt to show him the heat pad that was attached to you.

However his eyes narrowed and he frowned down at the strip of material against you. “Where’s your hot water bottle?” he wondered, knowing that the heat pads didn’t always do a lot to handle your cramps.

“I have to get a new one, Dogma was moaning about it being past its expiry date last month, so I threw it at him and said he should just replace it for me himself” you admitted bashfully, rubbing the back of your neck and looking away from him. To be fair to Dogma, he was just concerned about your safety, but you had been having a really bad day, work had been terrible and when he had noticed your expiry date on the bottle and moaned about it, you had snapped. You had sent him some chocolate and biscuits as an apology.

Fives huffed, mentally adding one to the shopping list that you both would need now that he was back. “Okay, how about snacks?” he wondered, looking around the flat. It was immaculately clean and organised, but he wasn’t sure what the situation was like in terms of food. He liked to go shopping with you whenever he came back, enjoying the slice of domesticity as much as he could whilst being on shore leave. So, more often than not, you waited to get a shop in if you knew he was coming back on the days that lined up with your grocery run.

“What is this? An interrogation?” you teased, rubbing at your stomach as some mild cramps were felt. At his pointed look and arms crossing over his chest you gave in. “I’m feeling bloated. Now come and sit down with me! I want my space heater” you demanded, reaching out a hand to tug him back on the sofa with you.

Fives rolled his eyes before getting comfortable on the sofa, leaning back into the corner and guiding you to lie down with him on his front. His hands wrapped around your waist, keeping you steady as you buried your head into his chest and sighed in satisfaction. Now this was a lot more comfortable than when he was wearing his armour.

You couldn’t help but beam at him, looking up into his beautiful face, his brown eyes shining with love and affection for you. Resting your hands on his chest, you leaned over him and pressed a gentle, soft kiss, before sinking further into him and languidly running your tongue over the seam of his lips, teasing him into opening his mouth so you could deepen the kiss. He moaned loudly, hand coming up to grip the back of your neck so you couldn’t pull away too soon.

However, oxygen was a necessity for you both, and the kiss was over much sooner than you’d both would have liked. “Hey” you whispered, running your nails through his trimmed goatee and beard.

“Hey” he said softly in reply, taking you all in. You looked beautiful to him, you were like one of those angels that General Skywalker spoke about being in the Outer Rim. If he had to describe them, it would be you.

“Welcome home, love” you chuckled, kissing his chin before settling back down into his arms, snuggling into his chest as you felt safety sink into your bones. This man would love and protect you from anything and everything; and you would do the same for him – if he’d let you, of course.

“That’s better, mesh’la” he hummed, one hand tracing patterns on the small of your back underneath your shirt, the other coming to mess with the strands of your hair.

Melting into his lazy touches, you couldn’t help but relax and close your eyes. Surrounding by his touch, the smell of his aftershave and the sound of his heart beating in his chest under your ear, you were ready to doze off, content to just be with him once more.

“Why were you crying, Mesh’la? Was it hurting that badly?” he asked quietly, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. He covered the basics in biology in his training of Kamino, but didn’t really know or have any experience as to how painful periods could be until he met you. Since though, he had been given a whole new education when it came to the galaxy at large and all it’s occupants’ differences.

“No… well yeah but it’s nothing I can’t handle. But… I guess I was pissed off and frustrated that all my plans had gone to waste and all my effort was for nothing” you pouted, remembering the disappointment now and the flare of annoyance that your period had came today of all days. You quickly remembered the dinner that you had prepared and cooked for him on the stove. “Oh, I made you dinner. Tiingilar, just how you like it” you yelped, pushing yourself up from his chest and glancing towards the kitchen.

“It’ll keep babe, that’s the good thing about Tiingilar” he assured, guiding you back down to his chest and shushing your protests. “Now, what plans were these?” he hummed, drawing your name in Aurebesh on the curve of your left hip.

“You know!” you grumbled, burying your face into his chest as your cheeks went decidedly darker at the plans you had. “I was going to cook you dinner, welcome you home and wear something sexy and cute for you for when you came back. But then I got my stupid period and now it’s all ruined” you told him, remembering the cute little blue lingerie number that you had brought just for the occasion.

Fives was silent for a moment, hand stilling before it resumed it’s path up and down your back, tracing the tense muscles and trying to work them out with his touch while lying underneath you. He had heard of something that was suggested by his older brothers in the barracks. He had tried it out a few times with a few people he had hooked up with in 79s before he had met you. But he wasn’t sure if you would want to try what he had in mind, and he wasn’t sure if you would want to do anything but cuddle on the sofa tonight.

“We don’t have to cancel our plans if you don’t want to” Fives suggested quietly, biting his lip as he felt you tense underneath his hands and on top of him.

“What do you mean? I just told you I’m on a period” you frowned, annoyance lacing your tone. Had he not been listening to you at all?

Fives winced as you pushed yourself off him and stood up, hands on your hips and a scowl on your face. Maybe he needed to explain better and tell you exactly what he had in mind rather than any suggestive remark that could be misconstrued in this delicate moment between you both. Copying your actions, he ran a hand through his hair, the other coming to pull at his goatee.

“I mean… if you want we could still have sex. It might help you feel better. Stop all those cramps you’re having. I’ve heard it can even cut your period down by a day or two” he explained, watching as a number of emotions passed over your face. Surprise, anger, contemplation, uncertainty before settling on a mild curiosity. As this was happening, he watched as your colour darkened, a flush working it’s way beneath the collar of your t-shirt and even to the tips of your ears.

“But… but it’s disgusting… all the blood and it could go everywhere” you protested, biting your lip and colouring even further at the thought of what could happen. Your hands landed on his as he placed his strong hands on your hips in a gentle grip. It wasn’t a no, but you were worried about the mess and the sight of blood down there and he wouldn’t think it was a good idea when you were in the thick of it, you were sure!

“Sweetheart, blood doesn’t bother me, I’ve seen my fair share. But it’s up to you, I’m not going to force you into doing something that makes you uncomfortable, mesh’la” he assured, squeezing your hips and trying to rub soothing circles into them with his thumb. He could already see your spiralling thoughts beginning to take over, clouding your mind with worries and negative thoughts. “We’ll do whatever you want, I’m not going to be angry if you say no” Fives smiled, nuzzling your nose with his and causing you to let out your own small chuckle, tension bleeding out of you.

You were still a bit unsure, all through your life periods had been something that just wasn’t spoken about, and certainly not sex while on your period. But you had heard a few of your friends say how it had helped with the cramps and lessen the duration by a day or two. It did sound like heaven – to be rid of this pain and discomfort a few days in advance. Plus Fives seemed very sure of himself, he always did know how to make you feel cherished and loved. This wouldn’t be any different, you knew how devoted he was to looking after you.

“Okay but… are you sure you want to do this?” you asked, biting your lip and looking up at him nervously.

Fives chuckled, shaking his head as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Are you sure about this, mesh’la? I want to, but I want to make sure you do too. I need you to tell me” he said firmly, hand coming up to cup your cheek and keeping your gazes locked.

“I want this too” you confirmed, knowing he would need the verbal confirmation before he did anything else.

“Alright, cyar’ika, I’m going to set up the bedroom. You get comfy and do what you need to do, okay? Then come into the bedroom, and get on the bed, lie on your back, sweetheart. I want to see you” he said, talking you through what was going to happen now. Resting his hands on your shoulder, he gave you a quick kiss to settle your nerves before heading into the bedroom.

You took a deep breath, then another one, then another one. You wanted this. You wanted Fives to take care of you, turn your pain into pleasure, soothe the raging cramps that you were still feeling in your belly. Clenching and unclenching your fist, you couldn’t help but feel nervous. You’d never even thought about doing this, especially not with any of your previous partners. But this was Fives. He was different. You would be tempted to call him ‘The One’ if anyone asked. You just hoped that this wouldn’t change anything between you two.

Nodding to yourself, you went to the refresher, cleaning yourself up as much as possible. Although you were sure it wouldn’t last long, especially with what Fives wanted to do with you. Looking up into the mirror, you noticed your face was still heated, and you quickly washed away any remaining tear tracks down your cheeks. You wanted this. You could do this. So gathering all your confidence and determination, you pushed your trousers down your legs and threw them into the laundry basket to the side.

Without giving yourself chance to overthink it, you walked into the bedroom, prepared to tell Fives that you were ready to try everything out but the words got stuck in your mouth.

Somehow, Fives had managed to find some soft, romantic music to play in the background. He had set the lighting in your room so it was low and relaxing and had even set your oil burner up to release soothing smells of lavender. Your eyes drifted to the bed, Fives had prepared a large towel on the centre of your bed, ensuring that it wouldn’t be too messy. He had arranged the pillows into a comfortable pile that wouldn’t put a strain on your back. He had put so much effort and care into making your bedroom feel as comfortable as possible that for a moment, you felt overcome with love for your handsome and thoughtful ARC Trooper.

“Hey, climb on, cyare” Fives encouraged, noticing you in the doorway and sending you an easy smile.

Shaking your head, you did as instructed, looking around you at the romantic and relaxing atmosphere he had created. “Fives… you didn’t have to do all this” you breathed, crossing your legs as he sat in front of you, coping you.

“I know, but I wanted to. Wanted to make sure you know how special you are to me, pretty girl” he shrugged, smiling bashfully before it returned to his normally confident smile. “So, are you ready for me to take care of you?”

You knew he was teasing, trying to make you feel more comfortable, but his words sent nerves cascading through you once more. What if he didn’t like it? What if he was freaked out by the mess? What if you freaked out at the feel of him? Would he still want to fuck you if he saw the blood? What if you could smell the blood as he was fucking you? All these questions ran in your head and you didn’t know the answer to any of them. But you trusted Fives, you always have and always will.

“What are you going to do?” you asked, hating how your voice shook and sounded so unsure about this. He must have heard it and he frowned, taking your hand in his and pressing soft kisses over your knuckles, keeping his beautiful brown eyes on you.

“I was going to get you nice and relaxed on these pillows. Kiss all over your beautiful body and take these panties off. Then I was going to use my mouth and fingers to make you cum, get you nice and loose for me, make sure I don’t hurt you at all, and then I was going to make love to my perfect cyare” he told you, wanting you to know exactly what was going to happen with this. He watched as your brow furrowed and your fingers twitched in his. “Is that what you want as well, love?” he checked in, hand coming to squeeze your knee and rub gently across your skin with his thumb.

Letting out a sigh, you looked away from him, not wanting to see any disappointment in his face as you told him what made you feel uncomfortable. “I just – I don’t think I want… I don’t” you stuttered, face blooming with heat as you tried to get your thoughts in order.

Fives quickly cupped your face, gently caressing your cheeks and smiling at you softly. “Why don’t I go through it and you nod or shake your head to what you want?” he suggested, pressing a kiss in between your eyebrows. It brought a small smile to your face, just as he had hoped.

“Okay, do you want me to lie you down on your back?” he started, pulling his hands away so you could nod or shake your head freely. He settled them on your thighs as you faced each other crossed legged. You nodded, laying your hands over his.

“Good, what about kissing this sexy body of yours, mesh’la?” he questioned, wiggling his eyebrows and making you let out a short laugh, shoulders relaxing as some of the tension bled out of you.

You nodded.

“Can I take these off as well?” he wondered, looking down to the underwear that you had on.

“Yeah” you breathed, biting your lip as you felt warmth trickle down your spine. Fives always had a way of making you relax and feel better about everything. He teased it was something he learnt in ARC training.

“Thank you, now what about using my fingers on you?” he pondered, lightly squeezing your thighs underneath his hands. You nodded in agreement, feeling nerves rise in you. “What about my mouth?” he asked, having a suspicion that this was something you were in two minds about.

“I don’t think I can kiss you if you had your mouth on me… I’m sorry” you admitted, grimacing at the thought of blood smeared on his face like some kind of old horror holo.

“You don’t have to apologise mesh’la, thank you for telling me. I won’t use my mouth on you, I promise” he assured, voice gentle and soothing even when you glanced back up at him. His face was open and honest, there would be no arguments from him. If you didn’t like something then that was it. It was off the table. “What about making love to you?” he asked, smiling softly as you agreed eagerly.

“Of course I want to make love to you!” you insisted, as though the mere suggestion you didn’t want to was as far fetched as the Chancellor being a Wookie in disguise.

“Alright then mesh’la, I’m just checking” he chuckled, leaning forward to give you a swift kiss. He slid his hands under your thighs, before quickly flipping you onto your back, landing in the pillows behind you.

You yelped, surprised at how quick and strong he could be when he wanted.

“Now Mesh’la, if I do something you don’t like or it hurts too much, let me know” he said firmly, leaning up over you and making sure you understood what he was saying. “Want to make you feel good” he murmured, closing his eyes before pressing delicate kisses across your jaw.

“Promise” you sighed, feeling him get situated in between your legs. His stiff member in his blacks brushed against your thigh but he ignored it for now, focusing on you. You felt him smile at your answer as he pulled the collar of your shirt away from you so he could venture further down your body.

He gently pulled the thin skin at the base of your throat into his mouth, teasing his tongue against it and gently sucking on it. Running a hand down your side, he felt how you relaxed even further into the mattress, a moan working it’s way out of your throat. He could feel it vibrate against his lips. Sliding a hand underneath your shirt, he felt you tense as he touched your stomach and he pulled back slightly.

“Still okay?” he whispered, watching your face carefully as you thought about it.

“Yeah, just sensitive” you assured, wrapping a hand around his neck and bringing him down for a kiss. Fives wasted no time in responding, missing the feeling of your soft lips against his, the taste of you on his tongue as you dipped inside of his mouth, teasing him in return.

He panted as you both pulled away, breath becoming too urgent to ignore. “Going to take such good care of you, mesh’la” he vowed, fingers coming to trail along the hem of your shirt. “Can I take this off?” he requested, waiting for your answer.

“If I can take yours off too” you bargained, looking at the top of his blacks and how they clung to his muscular chest. You tugged at his own hem and he laughed, pressing his lips to yours before kneeling above you.

“Oh no, a beautiful woman wants to undress me! Whatever will I do?” he drawled, guiding your hands as you pulled the top half of his blacks off him.

“Shut up, di’kut” you rolled your eyes, throwing the material off to the side. You had more important things to be focusing on now. Like tracing the small domino tattoo underneath his left pec with your fingers.

Fives couldn’t help but release the little giggle that he tried desperately to hold in at your actions as they drifted down the trunk of his body. Shaking his head, he pulled you away as he pulled off the baggy shirt you were wearing and revealing your bare chest to him.

“Maker! Sweetheart, I’ve never seen anything as beautiful as you” he breathed in awe, taking in your curves and the way your chest moved with each breath you took in and out.

“Fives!” you mumbled bashfully, hand falling to his hip as you felt his gaze trace a heated path over your skin. It was like he was drawing a vibroblade across you, your nerves feeling so sharp at how he took you in. “Please” you whispered, pulling him back down to you and kissing along his jaw, lips tingling at the sensation of his hair brushing against you.

Sighing at your soft touches, Fives couldn’t help but return the favour, laying kisses along your collarbone and taking in the sweet smell of your perfume. It was always the smell that felt more like home than anything else. Before he left on his next deployment, he always sprayed your perfume onto his blacks. It never lasted long enough to last his whole tour but he liked to imagine that he could still smell the lingering tones when he was able to catch what little rest he could.

He worked his way down your chest, kissing over the swell of your breasts before moving to the middle before sucking a dark bruise under the curve. You snaked your hand into his hair, tugging at the curls until he moved onto the other one, fingers teasing at the nipple and pulling at it slightly.

“Fuck!” you hissed, dull throbbing at his touch.

“Hurts?” he frowned, pulling away instantly to look at you.

“A little, but it’s okay” you murmured, cupping his cheek and kissing his nose to reassure him.

“Sorry mesh’la.”

Gently, he took the hardening bud in his mouth, caressing his tongue over it as it grew in his mouth. He ran soothing hands over your stomach and hips, making sure to carefully massage any lingering tension away.

Sighing, you leaned back into the pillows, enjoying the feel of Fives’ warm mouth against your tightening buds. A hand came to give your other breast attention, careful to not leave you missing his touch as he paid attention to your one breast before swapping to the other.

“Fives” you moaned contently, hips rolling up into him. He let out a sharp gasp, pressing back into you before pulling away and kissing along your stomach. Your ARC trooper kissed around your heat pad, not wanting to remove it if it was helping keep the pain from the cramps at bay. He would certainly try and help but the heat pad was also doing it’s job. Laying two final kisses on your hips, one on each side, he slipped his fingers beneath your pant line.

“Ready?” he asked, waiting for your permission to move.

“Yeah, just don’t- stop if it makes you feel sick” you told him, and he couldn’t help but smile.

“Pretty girl, I want to do this, it won’t make me sick at all. Nothing about you could make me feel sick” he soothed, running a comforting hand up and down your thigh until you nodded at him to continue.

He pulled down your pants and removed your period product, letting them land on a spare towel on the floor he had put out for this reason.

You squeezed your knees back together, feeling the slick of blood that your product had been holding back. It felt a lot wetter than it normally did when you and Fives were having fun. Small kisses were pressed from your knees up to your inner thigh, his beard tickling you and you knew that the beard burn would be felt tomorrow.

“Relax for me, mesh’la” he murmured, pushing your thighs wider so he could slot himself in between your legs.

You let your legs fall open, making more room for him. He climbed up your front, laying a kiss on your side as he went before he was hovering over you. Wrapping your arms around him, you pulled him down into you, nuzzling your face into his neck.

“I’ve got you beautiful girl, I’m going to make you feel good” he sighed, closing his eyes as he ran his fingers through your folds, gathering the slick that you produced along with your blood before he circled your clit. A hitch in your breath made him smile and he nipped a teasing bite to your shoulder. “That’s it Mesh’la, I want to hear what I’m doing to you” he told you, fingers coming to trace around your entrance before pressing one of his long, thick fingers into your tight heat.

A loud groan escaped at the feeling of him entering you, the tight muscles of you contracting around his finger. Fives was right, you felt a lot tighter than you normally felt, and you couldn’t help but rock your hips up into his hand. Knowing he was touching you, that he was getting a little messy with you made heat rise up, and you couldn’t escape the little burst of pleasure that flooded through you as Fives grunted in approval into your ear.

With great care, he began to move, thumb coming to rub at your clit in small circles. It wasn’t the pressure you were used to but it still sent a jolt of electricity down your spine and you squeezed your grip on Fives’ back.

“You sound so beautiful. I could listen to you for the rest of our lives” Fives mumbled into your neck. He pressed a kiss there before pulling away, looking down at where his finger moved inside of you. Adding a second finger, he couldn’t help but feel smug at the sight of your head thrown back, mouth hanging open as your eyes squeezed shut. You were breath-taking. Fives had never seen anyone as beautiful as you, and the fact you were letting him help you through your period wasn’t lost on him. He was so grateful at the love and trust you placed in him. He vowed to never not be worthy of that.

Pressing deeper inside of you, he searched for that spot that always made you clench around him. The slick noise echoed in the room and he could see that it was making your breath quicken even more at how much was leaking from you around his fingers. Growling lightly, he curled his fingers upwards.

The reaction was immediate, you moaned loudly, the sound bouncing off the walls as you dug your fingernails into his back, leaving red, angry crescents into his bronze skin. He cursed, focusing on that one spot as he pinned your hips down with his other hand.

“Fuck, Fives! Oh!” you gasped, one hand clutching onto Fives and the other twisting into the towel beneath you. The thrust of his hand was sending your mind up into the stars, he was hitting that spot with deadly accuracy. His aim never faltering as he increased his speed, thumb matching his pace as he came to nip at the swell of your breast.

“That’s it cyare, I need you to cum like this for me. Can you do that?” he growled, grazing his teeth against the delicate skin beneath your ear.

You could only nod at him as you felt heat rush through you, pleasure twisting that coil tighter and tighter in your stomach until it felt like it would be too much. He pressed his lips to yours, increasing his thrust until you couldn’t help but scream his name into your room. You dragged your nails down his back as you felt yourself tighten around his fingers, bucking up into him as your vision whited out.

When your breathing had returned to normal, you couldn’t help but whine as he withdrew his fingers. “Good girl, you were perfect! Cumming for me like that, god, you made me so hard mesh’la” he groaned into your cheek as he nuzzled his face into yours. Sighing, you lazily kissed the ‘5’ on his temple before he pulled away from you.

He reached for the edge of the towel, wiping his hand on the material before getting off the bed. Your eyes ran over him, a sheen of sweat glistening over his chest that made you want to lick up the lines of his muscles. “Come here, I want to taste you” you mumbled, feeling the endorphins rush through you. The cramps were already easing just from his talented fingers.

“Not this time mesh’la, later” he grinned, playing with the hem of his blacks. The bottom half of his blacks were already straining against his crotch. Your eyes zeroed in on the stretch of material. “I want to make love to you now” he smirked, running his own eyes over your lazed form. He had done that, he had made you feel so good you were almost swallowed by the pillows behind you.

“Take them off” you instructed, nodding to his trousers.

“Yes ma’am!”

Cocking his hip to the side, he sent you a wink before slowly pushing his blacks down his thick thighs. The display he was putting on for you made you clench around nothing, and you almost winced at the gush that followed that. But Fives was so good at being distracting, it was a skill that he was especially proud of as he finished tugging off his blacks, letting you revel in his beautiful naked form. His cock was straining for attention, the head looking an angry red as it bobbed against his stomach. It was an average girth but long, and you knew that you would be feeling him inside of you for the next day or so.

“Like what you see?” he teased, raising an eyebrow at you.

“I thought you wanted to make love to me?” you retorted, making him nod eagerly and hurry towards the bed.

“Stars, I really do mesh’la. You’re absolutely gorgeous and I can’t wait to be inside of you” Fives nodded, lining himself up with you. He could see that the petals of your opening were more flushed than usual, blood rushing to the sensitive area as he gripped his cock, sliding the tip in between your folds and against your clit.

You gasped, hips trying to chase after the sensation as he covered himself in your juices. “Fuck Fives, I want you now!” you insisted, trying to reach for his hips and pull him closer.

He chuckled at your impatience, notching the head at your opening. As he pushed in, he pressed his lips to yours, swallowing your gasp and moans as he slowly slid inside of you. Making sure not to go too fast or too roughly, he stopped when he was fully inside of you, groaning at the feel of you clenching around his cock.

Your arms were wrapped around him, small little whines and pants escaping your lips as you got used to him inside of you again. Partly because of how long he had been away and secondly because you were more sensitive than normal down there. He was filling you so perfectly, stretching you around him and making way for his cock to fit inside of you. It almost felt like when you were a virgin again, the sensation of him pressing so deeply inside of you.

Finally he felt you relax around him, your breaths a bit more steadier now. “That’s it love, you’re doing so well for me. Tell me when I can move” he soothed, pushing strands of hair away from your sweaty brow.

“Move… please” you groaned, sliding your hand down to his ass and giving the globe a squeeze. He growled, hips bucking into you before he could stop himself.

“Cheeky! I knew you loved my ass” he teased, running a hand down your thigh before hooking it around his hip. Slowly he pulled out, before pressing back inside, feeling you tighten around him at the gentle thrust. “Fuck, cyare” he marvelled, shaking his head at the feel of you. He could never get enough of you, would never be able to have enough of you.

Gently and with such devotion, Fives began to thrust into you, whispering sweet nothings into your ear as he kept up this pace. The wave of pleasure was rising again as he worked you closer and closer to the edge that he was determined to push you off. Cupping his face, you brought his lips down to yours for a passionate kiss, Fives pace quickening slightly as your tongues teased each other. He pressed you deeper into the bed, raising your leg higher on his hips and swallowing your moan as you felt him shift inside of you.

“Fuck Fives, right there” you panted, rolling your hips up to meet his thrusts. Together you were moving with each other, bringing pleasure to the other by your gentle touches and heat filled whispers. You could feel the way his middle slid against yours, the heat of him as he lay his weight on top of you, only supported by his elbow next to your head

“Kriff, you’re so tight- kriff, feel amazing” Fives growled, words lost as he pressed gently on your lower abdomen.

You couldn’t help but tighten even more around him, the move making him feel bigger and that he was hitting that spot once more. It helped to all but push the thoughts of cramps to the back of your mind as you gripped Fives around the back of his neck and pulled him down to you. You were panting too heavily for either of you to kiss the other, but the warmth and rush of his hot breath against your face made it feel just as special as any kiss.

As you continued to move with each other, chasing your highs together, you couldn’t help but close your eyes and rest your foreheads together in a Keldabe kiss.

Fives hooked your thigh up into the crook of his elbow, managing to widen you up and for him to press even deeper into you. You whined at the move, feeling his pace beginning to quicken. From the change in position, he was able to bring his hand around to rub figures of 8 into your clit, the other keeping you as close as possible to him as he continued to thrust into you.

“Cum with me?” he begged, shoving his hips further into yours, listening to your cries as he rubbed at your swollen nub.

Your breath quickened, nodding quickly as it felt like all your words left you as he groaned happily, burying his face into your neck and latching onto you. He sucked a purple bruise that would ride the hem of your clothes as you bucked into him.

“Fives!” you cried, muscles fluttering around him as you both tried to hold on for as long as possible.

“Please, cum. Need to feel you” he gasped, pace faltering as he neared his release. “Please cyare!”

You couldn’t help but feel yourself tighten around him at the sound of his begging for you. He made you feel so wanted, so loved that you couldn’t help but cum as he hit that spot deep inside of you. It sent Fives over that peak, him crying out your own name as he shot his hot release into you.

Fives landed on top of you, a comforting, if not heavy weight, encompassing you and allowing you to come down from your highs. You ran your hand up and down his sticky, sweat soaked back and into his dark curls, twisting them around your fingers as he relaxed.

He was humming pleasantly into your skin, occasionally drawing small patterns into your skin and laying kisses along your neck.

“How’re you feeling, cyare?” Fives drawled, trailing fingers up and down your arms.

“Much better now” you chuckled, checking in with yourself. You felt pleasantly buzzed, your cramps long gone and no longer feeling achy. Well not for that reason anyway. Fives had caused a wonderful, warm ache in you that you treasured, because it meant that he was home and that you could be together for as long as it was allowed. “Can’t even feel a cramp” you told him.

“Good, knew I could make you feel better” he said smugly.

You rolled your eyes and flicked his ear. “Yeah, yeah trooper. You were right, don’t let it go to your head” you huffed, before wrapping your arms around him.

“How about I draw us a nice bath? Sound good cyare?” he suggested, looking up at you with a loving smile on his face.

“Sounds perfect.”

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