#and for some reason all dogs i meet are obsessed with me... go Away! go to literally anyone else around!

[netherfeildren]

Busy, Dying. Part 2;

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader

Summary: In an in-between place called his life, Joel Miller is alone. In search of a cure. In need of a miracle. In want of God.

Can I interest you in a cure for loneliness? She'd asked him in a language without words. Taking it is the easy part. Letting her go is impossible.

-OR-

an a/b/o soulmates AU

Rating: Explicit 18+

Content Warnings: No Outbreak AU, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Soulmates AU, Infidelity, Cheating, They're behaving badly and doing things they shouldn't be doing idk, HEA!!!!!, Angst, Fluff & Smut, Scenting, Angst with a Happy Ending, Group Therapy, Social Experiments, Explicit Sexual Content, Dom/sub Undertones, Complicated family dynamics, Discussions of self harm, Depression, Existential Angst, He’s a loser your honor!!!

Word Count: 6.3K

Read on AO3

Part 2;

It is your own conspiracy that if you say the words three times in the mirror—I am so alone I am so alone I am so alone—the feeling will go away. Banished ghost. 

You commit yourself to this practice religiously for three weeks before you feel you must absolutely return to the meetings held in the basement of the Emmanuel Episcopal Church or you might just die. 

The first Friday back, you watch him. He blunders around the crowd, struggling to find a seat when he rushes in late that evening, trying to sit as far away from you as possible and, to his great misfortune, ending up right behind you. Squashed between two old ladies, his big body comically trying to fold itself into the tight rows. You laugh at him the whole way through the meeting. 

He’s like a raging bull after that. Scowly and unapproachable as the omegas in the group inevitably make their meager attempts to talk to him. It makes it all the more irreconcilable, a man like that here in a place like this—all the while with a wife at home. 

You wonder about her. 

“That one has a bad temper,” Maria warns as the two of you watch him. They seem to know each other in some way outside of this church, and it takes everything in you not to beg for details. “Big and hairy like a bad, lonely dog.”

You say, “I think he’s shy.” 

She watches you very peculiarly after that, and tells you, “You’re lost, girl. Joel Miller isn’t what you need finding you.”

But you know this, you assure her, and you continue to avoid him. 

The following Friday, he’s the one playing the disappearing act. The next week, as well—no show. You start to dread even your own shadow, wondering where he is, wondering if he’s ever coming back, if he has children and how old he is. Wondering if he wonders about you. Wondering why you’re so obsessed.

Too full of curiosity for your own good, you hover when he finally appears once again. Circling him and Maria, desperate for any sort of information. 

His wife had been sick, he says. He’d had to take her to the doctor. 

You wonder if her sickness might be his baby—sick to your stomach at the thought of it yourself. 

Finally, the week after, the two of you break your fast from one another. 

“You’ve been ignoring me,” he says, coming up from behind, ambushing you once again at the dessert and coffee trough. This is supposed to be a safe space, yet it feels anything but with him near. 

“No I haven’t.”

“You’re not supposed to tell lies in church. It’s a sin.”

“I don’t believe in sin.” You turn to face him, and your stomach hurts. 

He’s got on a dark green fisherman’s sweater—well worn but knit sturdy. A thing that looks as if it’s been his for years. 

You’re feeling thin-skinned and unable to face him today, and for no good reason. You don't know this man. You have no right to punish him with your silence, no right to be angry, to wonder about him. But that sternness from before, the one that looked too heavy for him to carry, has been wiped away from his face now, and in its place he only looks very earnest, like he really wants to talk to you. And it’s only that, well you don’t know him, yes, but you’d felt that you needed to, or that you would. That you were meant to find him in this place, and you’re angry at yourself and at him at how wrong you’d been, still even after all these weeks of radio silence while he’d been busy caring for his sick wife. 

“Me either,” he gives a small huff of laughter, shoving his fists into the pockets of his dark jeans. 

Setting the donut in your hand back on the table—rude and gross, but it’s an afterthought—you wipe your sweet sweaty palm against your hip, appetite all gone now. The basement is suddenly unbearably hot, your heart beating in your throat. 

“Anywho, I gotta run. Somewhere to be—” you mumble, brushing past him. There’s a sudden rush of itching heat burning its way up your chest, your throat, ants crawling over your scalp. The room is stifling, your limbs leaden and too many bodies; so many disgusting, clashing scents: pheromones, and desperation and such terrible loneliness, and him at the center of it, ambrosial.

You’ll have to recite your mantra more faithfully in the mirror every night, not a single miss. Remind yourself, I am so alone, so that the feeling might go away, and you’ll forget him and the way he smells and his eyes like amber green river stones, more quickly. 

“Whoah, hold on,” he calls after you, following to the exit and up the steps to the world outside of this church. You’d brought a coat today, unable to enjoy the cold the way you usually do, uncharacteristically chill, aching limbs, miserable in the biting morning air. He calls your name, and you clutch the wool against your chest, trying to hurry away from his much longer legs and pace as he catches up. 

Suddenly, though, you change your mind. Whirling around to look up, you stop your running, and he’s right there, so close. “I haven’t been ignoring you. You were gone.” Mind changing again, your gaze falls, unable to hold his eyes. You watch his left hand flex like he wants to do something with it. 

“I know. I’m sorry.”

A scoff. “What are you apologizing to me for?” 

“You’re the most interesting person I’ve ever met in my entire life.” He says it quietly by way of explanation, like another apology. 

“You must not have met very many interesting people.”

It feels hot and cold at the same time out here. Your stomach still hurts. Your eyes ache as if you could cry, which is ridiculous because you have absolutely no reason to cry. 

“Maybe not,” he says very low. It seems he’s drifting closer, like you’ll float away. A car honks its horn loudly somewhere in the background, and you still can’t look at his face. His own coat is clutched in his fist and now the honker is shouting too, expletives and God’s name being taken in vain. 

“You should go back in there,” you tip your chin at the depths you’d just fled from, stealing a quick glance at his face, “Find someone else who’s interesting.”

He grunts once, a wordless no and lifts his coat to drape it over your shoulders—you decide you’re even colder now, you don’t think you’ll ever be warm again—and takes yours from your listless grip, draping it over his elbow. 

This man. “Aren’t you here to get to know people?” You demand, finally looking up at him angrily. 

“No,” he shakes his head. “Let’s go for a walk.” His palm at your bicep urging you towards Arlington and the garden sends all sound skittering out of your ears. He reminds you of your earlier words, that he might like to walk, and you can hear yourself agreeing while you look up at the muted light of the late November afternoon leaching through the cloud cover. Through the wool and cotton you feel your skin sucking heat from that singular point of contact, warming you entirely.

It had been blisteringly cold last night, the alluring taste of incumbent winter in the air, and a vicious frost had ermined all the tree trunks within the Boston Public Garden, roughened the surface of the grass. 

Joel chooses a quiet spot by the pond, the willow weeps above your head and all around the two of you the sharp autumn air is lightly laced with the fragrance of leaf rot. An elderly couple floats serenely in a lone swan boat at the center of the pond, not a ripple in the surface, as if they weren’t really there. 

Helping you to sit, he gently pulls his coat from your shoulders, laying the garment for you to rest on protected from the frigid ground and carefully looping your arms through your own coat now, he pulls the excess fabric of his up, draped over your shoulders once again, leaving you securely enveloped from the cold. 

“Here, let me help you,” he says, and the sudden gentleness in his voice makes you want to burst into tears. His character, that of some matryoshkin sort, one embedded in another in another, never knowing which is the realest one, the truest one, which will come next. Angry snarling dog one day, a gentleness that burns the next. You have the sense that a person could know him for decades and still never reach the center, never cease to discover more. 

Sitting before you—you perch alone on the island of his given coat—he tilts his head, leaning back braced on thick arms to look up at the swaying vines with just an impression of brilliant yellow-green, as if that were the color of the air. A sudden breeze stirs the softness of his hair, lifting a stubborn cowlick, and at that exact moment, the cloud cover parts on the face of the sun. In the brilliant shaft of buttered sunlight, his dark curls glint with specks of purest silver, leaving you wishing you could touch the fan of fine lines at the corner of his eyes, feel his age with your fingertips. 

“You’re angry with me,” he finally says, head still tilted towards the sky. You watch him very closely, learning. His voice is deep, quiet. He looks tired, the violet shadows beneath the brilliant hazel eyes. Still beautiful, the full, slightly sulky curve of his mouth surrounded by dark beard. He is everything, all of him, masculine. 

“It doesn’t matter.”

Finally, he looks at you, too. He’s got a big head, proportionate to his big body, that falls back heavily. You can’t help smiling at him, it feels too natural. 

“Now you’re honest.”

“I wouldn’t tell a lie here,” you say, and he sighs like you’re a supremely difficult little omega, too impossible to be reasoned with. But turning back to the sky, eyes closed now, there’s a smile across his mouth also, and you wish the two of you could sit here and laugh forever in this moment.

The silence between the two of you is marvelous enough to be unnerving. Settled beneath his great coat, you’d never believed you could feel the cold so little—learning every fine detail that makes up the man. Even inches away from him, he seems utterly unattainable, each of the two of you existing on your separate islands—you trace the woolen edge of his coat against the ground—some twenty years your senior and married. But the cold has given you such a feeling of grounding buoyancy. You’d awoken angry, miserable, so full of despair you would’ve been sick with it if it were possible. And now—you hadn’t felt this alive or awake in years, perhaps your entire life. He is a marvel, and there are bubbles in your head threatening to take you floating away, and yet, your feet are firmly melded to the ground in reality. 

How attractive, how delicious the prospect of intimacy is with someone who you know will never grant it. It fills you with something ferocious or hungry or snapping, something pathetic that makes you want it all the worse. And he, with a gravitational pull too strong to even think of escaping.

Yes. You hadn't felt so happy in years. 

“How old are you?” Breaking the silence, you ask him.

“Forty three.”

“You have a brother.” He nods. “I have one too.”

“Do you speak to yours? I don’t.”

“He calls me once a month. It’s all he can bear of me.”

“Mine won’t speak to me.” He sounds sad saying so. 

“Why not?”

“I hurt him. Scared him.”

“My brother, he says my whole life is papier-mâché. My values are all wrong, I’m a crowd-pleaser. It’s probably true.” You’d felt it impossible to better yourself, and yet still, you tried for him. “How did you hurt him?”

“You can’t change a man, only make him more secure. Depending on his character that may then bring happiness or strength or success. Tommy’s failure of this in me was more than he could bear, also.”

The willow becomes your confessional. “I spiked my own drink once just to see what it would be like. A doctor told me afterwards that I have self destructive tendencies. I want to hurt myself, but I don’t want to actually feel the hurt, which makes me all the more addicted to it. A supernumerary on the stage of my own life, too afraid of hurting and hungry for it at the same time.”

The heel of his left hand, you notice, is bearing down on an old acorn burr, and yet he seems not to feel the pain. 

He’s looking at you very intently now. Some glimmering streak in his eye. It almost looks aggressive, and a muscle flutters madly at the edge of his jaw. He straightens, sitting up to face you. The acorn burr is left flattened and disfigured in his wake.

“The last doctor I saw told me I was depressed. I never went back after.”

“Are you?”

He laughs surprisingly full of humor and then instantly serious again. “Probably. I’ve been watching my life, scratching at it trying to get in. I can’t. It’s right there.” The matryoshka shuffles, locked in his melancholy one moment, spilling brightness the next. 

You want to understand him so badly your hands shake with it. 

“What’s your favorite thing about your work?” You ask him. 

Where does his wife think he is right now?

“That’s a nice question. Maybe…” he thinks a moment, “Getting to make things that’ll go in people’s homes. The idea that something that came from me will be surrounded by a family.”

You can’t help yourself. “Why aren’t you at home?” You ask him imploringly, unbearably sad for him, sick with need, desperate to understand what it is he’s doing here, and all at once, utterly certain of what it is you are. “Don’t you love your wife?” The question is posed with no bravery, and yet it still comes out into the world demanding. 

He clicks his tongue, taken aback, a shocked breath, maybe even a small, reproving smile. A hundred different emotions coming to life across his face in that single moment. 

“I don’t know,” he finally answers. “I remember loving her. Maybe. At best? She’s a stranger. At worst? An excuse?” But he says it like a question. He’s asking you, not telling, for he isn’t even sure of it himself. You’ve caught him off guard. 

“No…” the click of his tongue snapping you to attention, “That's too generous. We’re trapped in a box together, but completely strange to one another.” It suddenly feels like he shouldn’t be telling you this—about her. You’re sure he shouldn’t be. 

“Do you hate each other?” You ask anyway. There’s something…your only example of love and marriage being two people who had always hated one another and filled the home where their children lived with more hate. It’s difficult to fathom something different than what that had looked like. 

If you were truly brave, you’d ask if he has children, too. 

“No,” he says immediately, a non option, his brow furrowed. “That would take too much effort.” 

Now you understand. He’s alone anyways. The feeling of urgency within you mounts. You’re frightened by this moment of discovery. 

“You’re Southern. Your accent…” You can’t discuss this anymore, needing to change the subject. 

“Texas.”

“When did you leave?”

“Long time ago.”

“Do you miss it?”

At his, he laughs like the question is ironic. “No. Where are you from?”

“Sometimes it feels like I can’t even remember.”

And as if he’d pulled the feeling straight from your mouth, he tells you that he understands what that’s like, and you can’t help it when you reach for his hand, being as careful with him as you would any shy creature, needing to hold him. 

-

“I’ve never been in love,” you tell him, childish look of recklessness and valor coming across your face as you pick up on the earlier thread of conversation you’d frightened yourself with. “It seems too daring, even grotesque.” 

He thinks he wants to capture that look in a bottle and take it everywhere with him. His entire body throbs with a heartbeat and the shape of your hand fits his as if every joint and muscle and soft ligament had been specifically designed for him to hold, filled suddenly with a terrible sense of foreboding. Looking at you, one just knows there’ll be a broken heart. 

Your small thumb smooths gently over his large one, and he marvels that such an exquisite creature would touch him. God, but you’re beautiful. Your touch, soft and enticing and painful all at once. No one had ever been so gentle with him.

“Won’t you tell me a secret?” You beg.

He will. He might give you anything in this moment. In the weeks he’d been kept away, he’d desperately counted the days and minutes until he could return to that place of worship and honesty. 

“I think about you,” voice hushed, the shaking of the leaves not loud enough to mask the soft breath you suck in as he gives you his confession. He maps the architecture of the small hands in his grasp, fingers tracing fingers, uncured clay fragile before the heat. He feels tired and strangely spent, almost drunk on your touch. His thumb slides upwards, marveling at the softness of your wrist, and then there, beneath the shivering distraction of your pulse and his disturbing search, the unlocked fragrance of your scent gland. It drifts towards him slowly like smoke rising from sleep.  

The air seems to pulse between the two of you with heat and premonition. That singular moment before everything goes terribly wrong, he can see it in your eyes. Such vibrancy, excitement, recklessness turned danger. 

“We should…” you feel him begin to pull away, grappling to hold on to the moment and his hand, “We should fuck.” He takes himself back, letting you go. Where else was this being led?

He cringes away from you. “Excuse me?” 

“Sex. You’ve had it before.” His mind reels. His body’s reaction at hearing your mouth say these things, the way it shapes them, the soft, full lips wrapped around the words.  

Looking away, he watches the pond’s couple help each other out of the swan. In his periphery, he can see you begin to bristle at his silence. 

“Don’t be peevish. It’s unbecoming.” 

He can’t help feeling angry. “I’m not. I’m old enough to be your father.” And you laugh at him. You’re deviating paths now, going opposite ways and angry at one another for it. 

“We could pretend that—if that’s what you want,” you say, voice husky and seductive. A small palm smooths up his thigh and his gaze snaps fire at you, hand clamping painfully at your wrist, fingernails digging at your gland, disturbing more of that gorgeous scent into the air. 

You make a pained sound. He needs to leave. He needs to never see you again.

“Don’t be disgusting,” he shoots back, hot everywhere. 

“Don’t be a prude.” He flings your wrist away, and you cradle it against your chest as if he’d hurt you. The heat turns to guilt pulsing through his limbs. 

Warring to wounded then, your eyes. You wrap your fingers around your discarded wrist. “What if we lose everything? What if tomorrow’s the end of the world? What if we’re so thoroughly cured of our loneliness after all this is done, we never feel like we need another person this way again?” 

His muscles tense with the need to flee or attack, the thought of you needing him, of being needed in such a way—he’s like some creature coming upon its mate. 

Despite his age, he had never tried to truly seduce anyone. He had never truly wanted anyone. Not in any real and base sort of way. Desire for him had been a mute and ordinary thing. But he could have you now, turned into a thing he’d never been before, he could mount you and rut you into the dirt like an animal. Never so much a product of his designation as he feels in this instant. 

He can’t even form word, and your body seems to pulse against his with embarrassed heat and indignation. 

“Have you ever even fucked an omega?” You spit at him meanly. 

“We shouldn’t be talking about this.” Voice carefully restrained, each syllable off his tongue is measured with his tenuous control. 

“Tell me anyways,” you demand, shoving his coat off your shoulders being the thing that almost makes him lose it. 

“It’s cold. Put that back on.”

“Tell me.” And he shouldn’t. You should have no sway over him. No demand of his honesty or anything else that belongs to him.

“Once. Only because I wanted to know what it was like.” He’s man enough to admit to himself the embarrassment he feels telling you this.

But it seems to quell some tremor in your eyes, and you sit back, palm petting at your throat as if you’re trying to soothe yourself. 

“I’m sorry,” you say, gaze averted, glassy, delirious look there. “I’ve always gotten my feelings hurt easily. I’m—” you shake your head quickly, sucking on your lip. “...too sensitive. Sometimes I feel like I’ll float away if I don’t find anyone to hold me down.” 

He should tell you that you’re not, wants to, but the image of you weak and pinned beneath him churns in his mind. Whole body aching suddenly, needing his hands on you before he does something truly heinous—he straightens abruptly, abandoning your reassuring warmth. Feeling suddenly cold despite the sweat dotting his spine. 

Without another word he turns to leave you there, alone, while the swan pair watches from across the pond as the two of you part ways. 

The next morning he awakens stiff and burning, his cock a brand of heat against his stomach. And works his entire day in a static haze, lavender spots at the edge of his vision where all he can think about is how you smell and the way your hand feels in his. By five o’clock, his fingers ache, spasming painfully from gripping his tools too hard. Breaking his weeks-long habit, he decides to attend the Saturday night meeting, full of constrained energy and sullen moodiness. Reasoning that a pretty, young girl like you wouldn’t waste her weekend in the basement of a church abandoned by God. 

And is sick to his stomach with equal measures elation and dread when he spots you sitting amongst the crowd of metal folding chairs—wearing his coat. He doesn’t hesitate even a little when he claims the seat next to yours. 

The two of you sit in strained silence the entire meeting, the other alphas and omegas surrounding throwing alarmed and intrigued glances your way as the tension brews hotter and more frenzied. 

His body hurts. This is a painful kind of lust. 

He listens to the speakers tonight with only half an ear, instead, occupied with the memory of what you’d looked like the other week eating a jelly and cream filled donut, imagining what your mouth would look like smeared with his blood and come. He can smell your body, how hot and trembling nervous you are. So unlike all that blistering, innocent valor from yesterday. 

The omega with the cruel husband turned sick one is taking her turn again tonight. Now that he looks at her, she has hair that at one time was vibrant red, now turned a softened copper threaded through with white. Time is such a painful, slow thing, Joel thinks. 

“Have you ever been with someone you knew you were too good for?” The omega asks the room, while the one beside him begins to shake, knee jolting nervously.

You’re anxious, and it makes him angry that you should be made so by his actions. 

Too rough for forbearance, his palm clamps down tightly on your knee, holding it still, and you make some supplicant whimper at the back of your throat. Almost imperceptibly, you draw away from him, the line of your shoulders growing rigid, and a wild, irrational sense of loss steals his breath. 

He’s been so busy lately, distracted. He’s hungry, overstrained, anxious himself. He doesn’t mean to be brusque with you. He just can’t help himself. 

Would we be here if we had? Someone lost in the crowd pipes back. 

The woman laughs, she has a kind face. “Me either.” You shove his palm off your leg as if it burns. “But there was someone… once. A chance, maybe. Someone I didn’t choose but should have. We were friends. We came very close to being happy.” 

And he suddenly feels a wave of desolation so overwhelming wash over him. He turns to look at you, your vibrating profile, so pretty, and he’s gentle this time when he touches your knee. Just to feel you. How terrible, he thinks, to only come very close to being happy. 

The speaker changes, and then it’s Maria’s voice talking to them all. Joel still can’t look away from you as you, in turn, refuse to look at him. “Stop, Joel,” you whisper. But he can’t. 

“At the start of this, we usually discuss a second option for those of you who aren’t able to find what you’re looking for in this. Sometimes it’s not so simple,” Maria tells them. 

A miracle move on drug, she calls it. 

The group’s coalition is sponsored by a pharmaceutical company, one testing a cure for loneliness. Something they think of as pilled perfection, something to numb the pain of loss. Any emotional wound, now with the potential to be a thing of the past. The young omega handing out the pamphlets had promised an easy cure, it seems this is what he’d been referring to. And if the potential side effects included an inability to hold on to any sort of emotional attachment afterward, well, the encounter groups they’d targeted thus far were grateful for it in the end anyway. They were all alone after all. 

“It’ll help you let go of everything you can’t let go of,” Maria tells them. “Help make you forget. Help make you un-lonely. We’ll be holding a session Wednesday morning for anyone who’s interested in being part of the trial. Our sponsor company, Firefly, is very happy to welcome as many of you as possible.” 

Beside him, you whisper, “Only a coward would take that option. What a cheat.” He hesitates, perplexed and wounded by your words. 

“You’ll never have to grieve or miss something you can’t get back, ever again. I know that for many of you, this is the ultimate fantasy,” Maria says.

“I think it sounds like something to help let go. Like what I came here for.”

You exchange cards. Now it’s your turn, the wounded look. 

When Maria’s through, bidding the group goodnight and setting them all free to mingle, you’re up and out of your seat before he can get a word in. He watches you go as if he were some sort of abandoned lapdog, only for a second, before he’s once again, striding after you. 

You weave almost drunkenly through the crowd, first heading towards the exit, then to the beverage station, then correcting and veering towards the back hall where the restrooms and catechism classrooms are. 

Gaining on you, he takes you by the elbow, pushing you deep into the darkness of the long hallway. Going far enough the din of desperate socialization turns a quiet murmur. You’re really in the belly of the beast now. So quiet and dust infused it feels as if it’s been years since a soul stepped through here. 

“What’s wrong with you?” Your face glows with fevered sweat. 

“I’m sick,” you mumble on the tail end of a whine when he shakes your arm into responsive compliance. “Let me go. Stop,” you fight, trying to claw away from him.

“No you’re not.”

“Yes, I am. I threw up all night. And you have the personality of a snarling dog more than a man. Has anyone ever told you that?” Shoving at his chest now feebly.

Ignoring your caterwauling, he takes you in entirely. “You’re not sick,” he says again, sure now. 

There’s a timeless hunger gnawing at his gut. Joel suddenly feels more himself than he think he’s ever felt in his entire life. 

Dragging you high against his chest by the collar of his own coat, he brings the tip of his nose slowly to the valley of sweet fragrance at the side of your throat. Inhaling deeply at the flushed, swollen scent gland there. The sound of your toes scuffing against the floor excites him even more. 

“You’re not sick. You’re going into heat,” he says slowly; gathering the overwhelmed, shivering creature as gently as he can in his arms. 

Your fingers claw at his own throat in return, as if digging for his own answering scent. “No. But it’s not time. I had one not so long ago.” You sound on the verge of tears, and he makes a deep, soothing sound in his chest. “My blockers...I— I can’t be. It’s not time yet.”

“It’s a breakthrough heat.” His other hand comes around to the small of your back and ever so slowly, he presses your hips closer to his. “It’s mine. Because of me.”

“No.” You shove back with renewed strength suddenly, spinning around to scurry deeper down the dark hall and then careening on weak legs into an abandoned classroom. 

Heart beating madly at the prospect of the hunt, he takes a singular calming breath before he’s prowling after the sound of your crying. 

-

“You need to not run from me right now. It’ll make my rut come faster,” his deep voice comes from somewhere in the dark unknown. 

You scramble around the children’s desks, weaving your way clumsy with disorientation to the far end of the classroom. You don’t want to go into heat right now. You can’t. Not with him. You need to be safe and alone in the confines of your warm, comfortable bedroom, far away from the temptation of him.

His heavy, panting breath sounds closer and there’s a shriek in your throat like a struggling kitten. 

“You want me to lose my self control. That’s what this is, isn’t it?” There’s a loud crash as he shoves one of the little desks out of his way, followed by your answering shriek. And then he’s here, coming up behind you but finding mercy enough to hold himself back at the last moment, panting as if he’d just run miles fighting against himself. 

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I’m sorry. Come here, baby. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. It’s okay.” He takes a step closer, and the slowing of his breath and soothe of his voice calms you in turn. “You’re only going into heat, that’s all, sweet girl. I’ve triggered it for you and I’m sorry. Let me come to you.”

You let out a high and harried sound, palm smoothing over your throat over and over again. “Joel,” you say once.

“I’m here. It’s okay.”

“It’s only that—”

“What is it?”

“I have to tell you something.”

“Tell me.”

“I’m embarrassed.” A helpless tear spills out over the edge of your eyelid. 

“You’ve nothing to be embarrassed about with me. Ever. We understand each other, you and I. Don’t we?”

And he’s right of course. You’d picked his face out of the crowd in instant recognition, after all. “I’ve had heats…but I’ve never—never had a, a heat with someone. With an alpha.” 

He’s utterly silent and you feel deranged enough you’re almost certain you can hear the pound of his heart inside his chest.

“You’ve never had a knot take your cunt?”

“No.” You swallow. “Never.”

You hear a muttered fuck, and his breathing goes quick and shallow and then even again. He has better control over himself than you do at this moment. 

“Then how?”

You flush full of heat, embarrassed. “T—toys,” you stutter. “Medication to help ease it.”

When he steps closer, only calm accompanies him. All is suddenly quiet. You want him. Your disjointed mind, overwhelmed by too many confusing emotions had gone into overdrive for a moment, but now, with the scent of hot, aggravated alpha surrounding you, it’s obvious this was all you’d needed to calm down. 

You can feel his hot breath against your forehead, the wash of heat on each exhale and the lingering scent of sweet musk at his inhale. You touch his cheek with shaking fingers and feel him turn ever so slightly into your palm, and then he’s bending slowly. 

First, it’s a soft, wet nudge of his mouth, your bodies held apart. Then his strong nose bumping into the side of yours, the splendor of inexperience turning to knowing, a nuzzle. Coming in again hungry, with the slick of tongue now, and the deep inhale of shock at first taste. Your breaths rush through one another, and you feel yourself backing away in maybe fear, more likely overwhelm, but his mouth follows your retreat and then his palms are at your waist, tugging you into himself, pressing you tightly to his body with a ragged groan. 

“Your mouth…Your mouth is so beautiful,” he says.

Everything in your lower belly cramps in painful agony, and you scratch at his arms and neck without much strength, trying to climb higher and take more of him into your mouth. Oh, you want this so badly. You want it to be everything you’ve dreamed of so obsessively the past weeks. Nothing else in the world exists except for your two mouths pressed together.

His lips burn a wet path across your cheekbone, sliding to the side of your neck to suckle at your scent gland. “Fuck.” His scraped teeth along the patch of sensitive skin. “Have you had sex before?” The question is gentle, understanding, his tongue tasting your sensitive earlobe, head ducking suddenly to give a sharp bite at your breast. 

“Yes.” His erection is pressed firm at your belly, hot even through his jeans and your sweater. His large body radiates heat. At your back, his palm finds the edge of your top, sliding underneath to make first contact, blistering skin against blistering skin. 

“But not an alpha.” He says it smugly, the bastard. Palm sliding down to your rump, tucking you more tightly against his hard cock. You shake your head at the crook of his neck, fingertips twisting in the back of his hair. Your breath comes in wet little pants that sound too pathetic to bear. 

“It’s going to feel so good,” he promises, rubbing slow circles low on your back with that wide, strong palm. “It’s different. It’s…” That palm slides lower, squeezees the curve of your ass. “It’s ordinary if it isn’t with someone…special. If there’s not the possibility of—” 

You tell him you understand what he’s trying to say. 

“I think it’ll be so good between us,” he finishes. 

At the waist of your skirt, his fingers press between your skin and the stretch of your tights, forcing his large hand into their confines. Your breath skips into his open mouth, panting into one another he cups you between your legs and suddenly all you can focus on is the tight ache there, the nylon soaked obscenely between your thighs. His arm around your back squeezes you tighter to his chest and his fingertips are pushing past lace edge to feel the slick swell of wet cunt. 

“Oh, Joel. Not here,” you moan. “Someone will come in.” He’s circling your clit, so sensitive and so swollen it hurts. You tug him impossibly closer, and he presses you back into the cold stone wall. “We can’t in a church.” Your protestations sound weak even to your own ears as you spread your legs wider for him. 

“I don’t give a fuck.”

He takes your mouth again, sucking deeply, groaning even deeper when he presses inside of you to the first knuckle. “Tight, baby,” he breathes into your neck, his hips slowly grinding into your pelvis. 

He feeds you more, then presses a second finger, holding still for a second, then another. Panting like a rabbit caught in a trap with three of his too thick fingers stuffed in your overstretched cunt. The sound of popping seams moves up your spine. 

“Can feel your little cunt shaking around me. Jesus—” he groans. It’s all mine, whispered into your hair. 

Suddenly, there’s the open and close of a door nearby. And then the sound of someone’s voice calling your names. Joel huddles you further into the dark corner, confined by the protection of his body, his fingers still moving in and out of you, stretching you well enough to burn as he presses as deeply as he can and with the utmost gentleness, pets lightly at the painfully sensitive mouth of your cervix. Humming in satisfaction at the feel of you. 

“Right there?” He hums. 

You’re crying, clutching at him even more tightly. Your name sounds again, being searched for, like a warning. 

“If I fuck you, nobody else ever will.” His voice is so dark it’s menacing. It’s recklessness, verging on a lie. Maybe it’s hope. 

Pressing lightly again, petting, petting, he pulls his fingers back a little, the loud sucking sound of your cunt trying to hold onto him, and you’re coming for him, crying into his neck, sucking on his scent gland so that the taste of him floods your mouth. The sound of a door opening, and you hear him growl at someone to fuck off in a very scary voice, his fingers never ceasing their steady thrust inside of your clenching pussy, and the frightened slam of a door. 

“It’s alright. You’re alright. That’s my good girl,” he pets and soothes at you, pressing a kiss to your temple, your eyelids, your mouth again and again.

Part 3;

Netherfeildren's Masterlist

Updates Blog

[littlekingbergara]

🔥 the cats vs dogs debate

literally cats all the way 100% no question. the lengths i go to in my life to avoid dogs are !!! stupid and dramatic some would say. to the point where i'm never walking inside somewhere first bc if there's a dog i'm Not getting jumped on.

i have been drooled on and jumped on and knocked down and fussed at by other people's dogs more times than i've ever been inconvenienced or annoyed or grossed out by my cats.

and it's so fucked up that nobody like?? respects that?? i Don't think they're cute or charming or silly or whatever. "oh she just wants you to pet her" "you just have to sit with him" ok i'm not doing that though.

send me 🔥 and a topic and i'll tell you my opinion on it!

[levis-poison-is-my-medicine]

Tea Lovers

A Levi x reader fanfic (Flufftober 2024)

Crossposted from AO3

Maybe your love for tea is the only thing you have in common. Maybe your biggest talent is annoying the shit out of Levi, and still somehow always getting away with it. But maybe he wouldn't have it any other way.

tags: fluff and humor, silly and sweet, tea-obsessed fem!reader with their head in the clouds (word count: 3.33k)

(Levi x reader Masterlist)

"Please?", you asked Erwin for the umpteenth time, making puppy dog eyes while trying to keep up with him as he walked swiftly back towards his office.

The moment he had seen you making his way towards him, his steps had significantly picked up speed, but you didn't even notice, too busy trying to put as much pathos into your voice as possible. This would be your last chance, so you were dead set on convincing him this time.

"Pretty please? Pretty pretty please?"

But as always, your pleas fell on deaf ears. None of your tactics worked on him. You had been begging Erwin to take you with him for weeks.

The moment you heard he was heading to Mitras for work, you knew you just had to go with him, but for some reason, he said no every time you asked him.

Maybe this was because you had no business being there, only occupying a low rank in the scouts. Maybe it was because you had a habit of talking too much. Either way, he didn't seem too keen on the idea.

Erwin let out an exasperated breath. "As I said before, this is a meeting between the military leaders of the three divisions. You won't be able to attend."

He gave you a stern look, but it was lost on you.

"Besides, I am only there for a day anyway, so what would you even want to do there?", Erwin added in a final desperate attempt to discourage you. Needless to say, it didn't work.

"I'm glad you asked!", you said excitedly, a little out of breath since you had to break into a little jog to keep up with his long strides. This didn't stop you from rambling, though. It never did.

"I promise I will stay out of your hair! In fact, you won't even notice I'm there. Because while you're doing your official commander business, I'll be out on an important mission myself, roaming the streets of the city, looking for the good stuff. The kind they only sell in Mitras, you know? The finest, fanciest first class shit only reserved for royalty and aristocrats. I will get it all! Well maybe not all... But as much as I can afford! I saved all of my wages for the fateful day that I would be allowed to step foot into the capital and–"

"So you're saying it was never your intention to attend the meeting?", Erwin interrupted you.

You blinked at him. "Well...no. I thought that was obvious. Why would someone like me be there?" You were just a common soldier, after all. "I only need a ride there and back again."

Erwin groaned.

"Why didn't you lead with that? I can't believe you pestered me all this time because you wanted to go on a shopping spree...", he muttered, defeated.

You perked up at his words, eyes twinkling with hope.

"Does that mean you'll let me go with you?."

He dragged a hand across his face and sighed. "Fine. If that means you'll finally leave me alo–"

"Yay!", you interrupted him, the biggest goofy grin plastered across your face as you broke into a small victory dance. "I promise you will not regret this!"

"I don't know about that...", Erwin mumbled, having finally reached the safety of his office. He unlocked the door, attempting to shut it before you could enter, but you slipped in right behind him, much to his chagrin.

"Is there something else?", he asked, looking between you and the mountains of paperwork he would still have to finish before leaving for Mitras first thing tomorrow morning.

"I just wanted to say...thank you, commander", you said, still smiling widely.

"I'll be forever in your debt! If you ever need help with something, anything, don't hesitate to ask me! Big or small, be it manual labor or administrative stuff I'll–"

"Actually", he interrupted the exuberant stream of words gushing out from your mouth, his eyes on the documents sitting on his desk. "I might have something you could help me with."

– –

The next morning you practically skipped to the carriage which would take you to the ship, barely able to contain your enthusiasm.

Erwin was walking alongside you, eyeing you incredulously. He knew you couldn't have gotten much sleep last night as you had stayed up with him, working your way through all the paperwork, but it didn't seem to affect you much.

Another surprise to add to the list then, since last night he had already been astonished to discover that despite your seemingly airheaded nature, you were actually quite a serious worker with attention to detail.

Quite frankly, he hadn't expected much when he had enlisted your help yesterday, but your ability to focus on such a mundane task for so long made him reconsider the preconceived notions he had about you. Maybe you weren't so bad, after all.

You were still chattering away in joyous anticipation as you climbed into the carriage, not minding the fact that Erwin didn't say much in return, when suddenly you stopped dead in your tracks.

There was another person inside the coach.

He looked up at the sudden noise, a blank expression on his face, and your eyes widened in recognition.

Sitting there with his legs crossed, book in hand, was none other than Levi Ackerman. You never had the chance to speak with him before, as you were part of a different squad, but of course you knew who he was.

Delighted, you thrust out a hand and introduced yourself. He stared at it with raised eyebrows, not returning the gesture. "I'm Levi–"

"I know", you said happily. "You're Captain Levi. I'm so pleased to finally meet you." You slid into the seat across from him, allowing Erwin to enter behind you. "I had no idea that you were coming with us. Erwin must have forgotten to mention it."

His eyebrows wandered even higher at your familiar way of addressing the commander, and he shot Erwin a glance.

"Don't ask", the man mumbled as he sat down next to Levi. This was just the way you were with people. He had given up trying to correct you.

Levi hummed, turning his attention back to the book in his lap. It was a long ride ahead and he was looking forward to reading in peace.

Clearly you had other plans in mind. "So I take it you will sit in on the meeting with Erwin?", you asked, unperturbed.

Levi scowled, looking back up.

"Yes", he said flatly, then attempted to focus on the book once again.

"Figures. With you being humanity's strongest, and all", you said, nodding.

He tutted irritably, eyes still trained on the pages.

There was a moment of silence which actually allowed him to parse the meaning of the sentence he had been re-reading for the fourth time now. However, it was short-lived.

"There's this one famous shop I'm dying to visit, though", you started.

Levi snapped the book shut. He was now full-on death-glaring at you, but you gave no notice, just happy you had his attention.

"You should go there, too, if you get the chance. It has the rarest, finest–"

"You should try to get some rest. How can you be so full of energy after last night?", Erwin interrupted you, trying to salvage the situation. He had watched Levi's eyes growing narrower and narrower and was honestly fearing for your life at this point.

"Why, it's only the power of black tea! Two pots, to be exact", you replied eagerly.

"Two...pots?", Erwin repeated, dumbfounded.

"Well, usually the two pots are reserved for getting me out of the food coma after lunch, and I only have one in the morning. Can't face the dread of getting up without it. But today called for more, since it's a special occasion." You gave him a warm smile. "Thanks again for letting me tag along."

"You're welcome", Erwin said, still a bit taken aback by the sheer amount of tea you consumed. He glanced at Levi, who was still looking at you, the glare on his face now replaced with his usual deadpan expression, and heaved a sigh of relief.

"If you ever need help with paperwork again, just give me a holler. It was actually kind of fun", you said, still smiling.

"You have a strange definition of fun", Erwin muttered, shaking his head. "But I will." He rubbed his eyes, which were dry from the lack of sleep.

"I'm glad. You look a bit...overworked", you pointed out, taking in the bags under his eyes. They were so pronounced that even you noticed them.

"I'm just tired. I'll try to get in some shut-eye on the way."

"Got it. I'll keep my mouth shut." You grinned.

Fortunately for the two men, you spent the rest of the ride glued to the window, quietly taking in the sights around you.

– –

Your silence lasted until you got to the boat, then you just couldn't keep it in anymore.

"Wow, this view is breathtaking", you said as you leaned against the railing of the ferry, looking out onto the river leading you deeper inside Wall Sina with big eyes, hair fluttering in the stiff breeze.

"Don't you think it's amazing how fast this moves? With this speed, we'll be in Mitras in no time."

"You act like you've never ridden on a ferry before", Levi said dryly.

He and Erwin were standing some distance away from the railing to avoid the sharp winds.

"That's because I haven't."

He shot you a surprised look, watching as you craned your head up towards the steel wires suspended above the river which helped the barge move.

"Did you know that these boat can carry up to 150 tons? That's like 300 cows or something."

"I'm sure cows are heavier than that", Erwin said.

"300 horses, then", you said. "My point remains. These wires are strong as hell"

"They are indeed", Erwin conceded.

"I didn't know farm animals were an accepted unit of weight", Levi deadpanned. "You forgot the pigs."

"Hmm", you went, seriously considering the answer. "Maybe about 750? They are much lighter than horses."

Levi shook his head at your earnest response and watched as you leaned even further over the railing, putting your entire weight on your upper body.

"If she keeps this up, she's gonna end up falling in."

Erwin hummed in agreement. Neither of them made a move to stop you.

"I'm going inside", Levi said, taking out his book again. He hadn't planned on being outside at all, but you had insisted, sputtering nonsense about the beauty of nature and taking in the sights.

As he sat down to read, he couldn't help but to take a last look out the window at the deck, half-expecting you to have fallen into the river already.

But you were still there, arms stretched out at the surface of the water like you were trying to touch it, an expression of pure and utter delight on your face.

"Idiot", he mumbled, and turned his attention back to the book.

This wouldn't be the last time he glanced up to check on you.

– –

After you had reached Mitras, you were quick to run off the boat.

"Let's meet here again for the last ferry of the day", Erwin called after you, not sure if you even heard him.

He watched you disappear into the crowd of people and sighed.

"What am I going to do with her..."

– –

You made it back just in time before the boat departed, waving at the two men who waited at the dock as you ran towards them.

Out of breath, you skidded to a halt in front of them.

"You're late", Levi said with apparent distaste.

"I'm...sorry", you panted. "Got lost...on my way back. I didn't know the capital was...this damn big."

"It's fine. I'm glad you made it", Erwin said mildly.

You were still wheezing and clutching your sides, a single bag inside your left hand.

"That's it?", Erwin asked, gesturing at the bag as you made your way onto the ferry. "I thought you wanted to go on this grand shopping tour and spend all of your money."

"Oh yeah, I did! I went all out and splurged everything on this!", you said excitedly. "I can't wait to show you."

Levi watched the exchange with raised eyebrows.

"Everything I heard about the capital was true! In fact, it was even better than I imagined! I actually thought I was in heaven. It was so hard to decide which ones to get. There were so many different varieties", you continued enthusiastically, gesticulating wildly for emphasis. "But I decided to go for quality instead of quantity. I mean, that's what money's for, right? It's not every day that you get to be in the capital, perusing the finest shops for the finest goods this world has to offer."

You carefully set your bag down on the table and took a seat in front of Levi and Erwin.

"Sooo... Are you ready to see the precious fruits of my long and laborious quest for the best of the best?"

You didn't even wait for an answer, taking out tin after tin and placing them on the table with dramatic flourish.

"Isn't this amazing?", you said happily, your face practically glowing with rapture as you took in the sight of your haul spread out in front of you.

Levi nodded, looking actually interested for once.

"Is this all...tea?“, Erwin asked in disbelief.

The table was, in fact, filled with tea canisters of all sizes.

"Of course it's all tea. What did you think I was going to buy?", you asked, genuinely puzzled that he could possibly think you would spend your hard-earned money on anything other than tea.

"I just assumed you meant clothing and the like."

"Huh. I could have sworn I told you", you murmured, still unconvinced.

"You did not."

"If you say so."

"I do say so", the commander retorted, a twinge of irritation noticeable in his voice.

"Okay, whatever. Who cares. Let's return our attention back to what's really important.", you said, gesturing at the tea in front of you.

Erwin heaved a deep sigh as you giddily started to showcase the tea you had bought.

For each one, you started with its region of origin, then you named its grade, which was of course always the finest, followed by a florid description of its aroma, never forgetting to mention what set it apart from other, lesser ones, and finally you opened the tea tin and made everyone smell it.

"How did you get this?", Levi asked in astonishment, examining the smallest of the tea canisters. "This is from Wall Maria. I thought there was none of it left."

"Ooh, I see you know your stuff. I'm always glad to meet a fellow coinnoisseur." You gave him a cheerful smile.

"I was actually planning on saving the best for last, but oh well, since you're interested..."

You took a deep breath. "You're right. It's only the last special finest tippy golden flowery orange pekoe from the most distinguished tea growing region in the south of Wall Maria. I basically had to sell a kidney to get this. Remember that famous tea shop I told you about on our ride here? They are known to have the rarest leaves, usually only reserved for royalty. But I got to talking with the owner and used all of my persuasive power to get him to sell it to me, until he finally caved!" You smiled gleefully.

Erwin could imagine exactly how that had gone. He felt sorry for the poor guy. You must have pestered him the same way you had Erwin when you tried to get him to take you to Mitras with him.

"So it's actually legit?", Levi asked, not entirely convinced.

"Go ahead, open it", you told him with a grin. "And see for yourself."

He did, holding it under his nose to take in the aroma.

"It's exquisite, isn't it?", you said excitedly, watching as his eyes grew wide.

"It is." He admitted, sounding impressed.

"You smell it, too, Erwin!", you said and took the canister from Levi to practically thrust it in Erwin’s face, then proceeded to look at him expectantly.

"It smells the same like the others to me. Rather like tea, as one might say", Erwin said matter-of-factly.

You gasped in horror. "Take that back. How can you even say that? That's sacrilegious."

Erwin shrugged. "It is simply my opinion."

You harrumphed and shook your head in disbelief.

"There is no place for opinions here. This is excellent tea, and that's a fact.", Levi said surly.

"Thank you!", you exclaimed. "I'm glad that at least one person here has taste and is distinguished enough to recognize true greatness when they see it."

You glared pointedly at Erwin before giving Levi a sweet smile.

"Since you seem to be an expert judge on the matter of tea, maybe you can help me decide which one to put in this? It's too big for the little I have of the Wall Maria one."

You reached inside your bag to take out one last item. It was a beautiful dark blue tea canister with an ornate, flowery design. "They had so many gorgeous ones, but I ran out of money, so I could only buy this one."

Levi looked at it, brows knitted. "It's yours, decide for yourself."

"Oh come on, please? I really can't make up my mind."

He clicked his tongue in annoyance, but then pointed at one of the bigger tea tins.

"That one, then."

"Yay, that's a good choice, thank you so much!" You beamed at Levi.

He averted his gaze and scoffed. "It's not like I put much thought into it", he muttered.

But you didn't even hear him, too busy humming happily as you put the tea back into the bag.

"This was the best day ever!"

– –

"This was the worst day ever", you groaned as you slunked into the room you shared with three other scouts. Two months had passed since that trip to Mitras.

There wasn't a single body part that didn't ache from today's intense training session. To top it all off, you had been in charge of cleaning duty. Now the day was basically over.

"So much for having a good birthday", you grumbled. No one besides Erwin had even remembered it, and he remembered everything, so it didn't count.

Sighing with exhaustion, you let yourself fall onto your bed, only to let out a little cry of pain. "What the hell?", you asked as you rubbed your lower back where it had made contact with something hard lying in your bed.

You rolled over, examining the culprit. It was a beautiful dark red tea canister with blue flowers dotting it, the inverse image to the one sitting on the shelves next to your desk.

"Could this be…a birthday present?", you wondered, a happy smile already spreading across your lips. "But from whom?" You turned it over, looking for a clue, but you found none.

You asked your roommates when they came back, but they sheepishly admitted that they hadn't even known that it was your birthday.

"Hmm“, you said. There were only two other people who knew about your prized tea canister: Erwin and Levi.

Erwin, always the fair-minded one, had already told you that he didn't get anyone presents. "If I gave you one, I would have to give one to every scout, and I'm afraid I can't afford that."

So this left you with only one option. It had got to be from Levi.

"That's a fellow tea lover for you", you whispered, touched, as you pressed the present to your chest.

"But which tea should I put in it?"

You knew just who to ask.

Notes: Soo this marks the beginning of The Tea Lovers series, a bunch of loosely connected short and sweet and mostly just silly fluff pieces I am writing for Flufftober. They're all set around the same time (sometime after the fall of Wall Maria in S1, before Eren and co. join the scouts) and feature the same reader. You happily live in your own little world where everything revolves around tea, totally oblivious to what you're doing to Levi, lol. I am going to be releasing the next part soon, so stay tuned!

Click here for Part 2

[deepestnightcolor]

☾ ʏᴏᴜ ꜱʜᴏᴜʟᴅ ꜱᴇᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ɢᴜʏ ☽

ᴀ/ɴ: HERE I AM WITH ANOTHER SAM SMUT! I seriously don't know what happened here, but I hope you enjoy nonetheless. Just a small disclaimer: don't go around hitting people, kids. Use your big words for big emotions!

Thank you for your time and all your love!~

PS: bonus points to whoever finds the tiny easter egg.

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: Sam (SDV) x afab!Reader

ᴡᴄ: 4045 words.

ᴍᴅɴɪ ✧ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: weird, drunk guy hitting on the reader. Sam getting protective and physical. Guard dog Sammy. Mentions of blood, the taste of blood, and bruises.

Cowgirl position, making love bites, dirty talk, cream pie, Sam is a little obsessed in his fuck-drunken mind, cock-piercing, pierced tongue.

Believing in Sam had always come naturally to you. The moment he showed you his guitar and the way he could handle it, you knew he had potential. That is why you never minded coming to his band practice; you enjoyed cheering him on, giving his cheek a kiss after each session and smiling at him, praising him in a gentle voice.

Sam loved having you as an audience. Everything about you made him want to be better. He taught himself your favourite songs, just so he was able to see your face light up when you recognized the melody. Sharing his passion with you was easier for him than with anyone else. At first, he had thought your personality was the reason for that, but when you kissed his cheek after one of his practices and the first thing he had felt was the wish that you would kiss his lips instead, he began to consider that there perhaps was more than just the trust he showed you.

After all, whenever Sam had doubts, he would come to you.

Whenever he didn’t know what to play, he would come to you.

Whenever he felt like he had to show someone a new song he taught himself, he would come to you.

That is why no one was surprised that he would come to you once his band had landed its first gig in Zuzu City. Blue eyes glistening with excitement, his whole body trembling while he tried to refrain from jumping up and down as he relayed the news. You laughed with him, hugging the blond tightly to your chest. “I knew it was only a matter of time,” you told him. And he believed it.

That was also the reason you stood in front of a stage in Zuzu city, wearing your most adorable outfit you knew was one of Sam’s favourites, given the way his gaze lingered whenever you had it on. In fact, he had given you the expected reaction when you had stepped up to the bus; first squishing you to his toned chest, just to stare once you had pulled away. His voice had been hoarse as he complimented you, telling you that you were an absolute beauty tonight. You had smiled at him, your fingers running through your hair as you leaned towards his ear just to whisper some words that would spin around Sam’s head for the whole ride. “You look deliciously hot as well, Sammy.” 

Deliciously hot, huh? He had never heard you call anyone else like that. Did that mean something? That was entirely possible, wasn’t it?

The way you stared up at him while he was on stage definitely made him wonder. But he was not innocent, either, because he stared right back. Each song he announced, he announced for you. Each special solo was dedicated to you. Each look with hooded “fuck me”-eyes that seemingly danced over the crowd was dedicated to you. To Sam, this whole fucking show was for you. And you drank it all up.

In fact, you were enthralled enough you didn’t even notice the guy who pushed up to you as Sam thanked the crowd. All that mattered was Sam, and his voice whispering a good night to the crowd. His blue eyes landed on you again, and you took the chance to smile at him, blowing him a kiss.

“You alone here?” a voice next to you suddenly slurred over the noise of the crowd, which meant that its owner must have been incredibly close. You turned your head slowly, meeting a guy’s face. He seemed drunk already, and the grin he gave you certainly wasn’t one of good intentions. You cleared your throat and took a step back, scratching your neck. “No, no really.”

“Huh, that’s smart for a pretty girl like you.”

 You gave an awkward smile, not wanting to tempt the stranger into attempting any further conversation as you turned around, trying to make your way to the bar. You had exchanged two sentences, and you were already desperate to escape the situation.

You were able to make it to the bar and ordered a drink that you could down before finding Sam, when suddenly, a hand landed on your hip, using the leverage to spin you around. A gasp left your lips, your muscles tensing when you saw the drunken man again.

“Hey, I wasn’t done talking to you. Somebody should teach you manners.”

You grit your teeth, trying to squirm free of his grasp. His hands were sweaty and felt uncomfortable – disgusting - even through the fabric of your clothes.

You had never been in a situation like this, not in all the years you had lived in Zuzu. Your eyes trailed to the stage automatically, trying to make out the blond hair. Maybe he would catch your gaze and-

“I am talking to you,” the voice snarled, making your attention snap back to him. His hand was still on you, and you wanted to get it away from you.

“Fuck off,” you hissed, squirming again and finally being able to get rid of his hand.

“That is no way to talk to someone. Especially for a pretty girl like you. Maybe I should take you home and-“

“Didn’t you fucking hear? She told you to fuck off.” A familiar voice, a voice that felt safe.  Sam had emerged from the crowd, pushing past the guy to stand next to you.

“And who are you?”

“Her fucking boyfriend. Also telling you to fuck. Off.”

One of the blond’s arms was quick to snake around your waist, pulling you into his side with a quick tug. Again, a hand was on your hip, but this time you felt much more comfortable. Much better.

The happy glint that had been in his eyes while he was on stage had vanished and was replaced by something dark. Something you had never seen cloud those pretty blue eyes before. It almost seemed possessive.

The stranger cleared his throat, and for a moment, it seemed like he would retreat without any other word.

But then, everything went down fast.

“Fine. No one wants a cheap slut like you, anyways.” The drunk man hadn’t even finished spitting on the ground in front of his feet before a fist connected with his jaw. Sam, the man who played the SpongeBob theme song when bored and loved the minions had thrown the first punch, and a good one at that. The sheer power behind it made his opponent stumble backward, the blond using the opportunity to now step in front of you.

“Don’t. You. Call. Her. That!” he growled, his fist already lifted for the next hit. The guy, despite the level of alcohol that he probably had in his system, was fast, though. He shot back up and allowed his knuckles to meet Sam’s face, but his aim was off. His head knocked with a light cracking sound to the side. You let out a loud gasp, and desperately tugged on the man’s shirt, trying to get him away from your harasser. “Sam. Come on. Let’s go.”

But Sam had started something. And he would finish it. You were absolutely shocked as he aggressively shoved the guy, who now had blood on his knuckle. He used the distraction he had created to hit his face again, this time sending him to the ground with a grunting sound. Trying to defend himself while falling he scratched Sam, but it seemed the guitarist didn’t even mind. Instead, he straddled him and gripped him by the collar of his shirt, staring right into his eyes.

“Never. And I mean fucking never touch her again. I will find you. I will break your hands and shove them so far down your throat they will come out of your ass again.”

“Sam!” You cried, which finally got his attention. He let go of the shirt, dropping him in his own spit, giving the pathetic figure a snarl. Without another word, Sam gently took your wrist, leading you toward the backstage area where he had gotten ready. Once he finally turned around to settle you on one of the chairs, knelt down in front of you to make sure you were okay, you could see what the impact had done to him. His carefully styled hair was a mess; there were scratches on his cheek, and his pretty pink lips were busted open. You found it pretty unfair that he had just gotten into a fight and still looked hot. Maybe even hotter.

“Are you okay? What a disgusting-“

You couldn’t help but stare at his lips. They were so pretty. And he had gone all out just to protect you. You just had to kiss him, didn’t you?

You couldn’t resist anymore, your hands grabbed at the back of his neck and pulled him in. The blond winced at the sting when your lips collided, but by Yoba, did your hands feel good against the heated-up skin of his neck. He would have been stupid if he hadn’t kissed back; and who was he to deny your tongue entrance to his mouth, anyway?

It would have been a shame if he didn’t suck on your tongue like a desperate man, and fuck did your lips taste good.

Blood and saliva mixed together, but you didn’t seem to mind. In fact, you let your hands trace through his hair, giving a few blond strands a soft tug. Sam grunted, getting on his long legs without breaking the kiss, allowing himself to drop down on the sofa while pulling you towards him. You took the chance and straddled him, only pulling away to kiss down his jawline.

“You know how long I have wanted to kiss you?” The guitarist murmured, allowing his head to dip to the side to give you more access. “Ever since you first played that stupid song to annoy Sebastian and Abigail,” you answered bluntly, kissing down his neck. You knew Sam’s face would bruise up tomorrow, so what were a few more? You wanted this fucking man.

Fangs sinking in the flesh of his neck, you sucked on the newfound redness, shiver running down your spine when you heard the deep groan rumble through his chest. Feeling you react to the sound he made gave him a sudden boost of confidence, large hands trailing down your back just to grip the flesh of your ass with both of his hands. He gave it a good squeeze, not being able to help himself but moan. You felt so good already, and you weren’t even undressed.Yet.

“Sam…I…Fuck, I want you.”

That certainly was an understatement by now. You needed Sam. Given the pulsing you felt beneath you, you were pretty sure you would get what you needed, though.

His fingers were now clawing at your butt as he pulled you in closer, his busted lips smashing into yours again. This time he didn’t even flinch at the feeling; this time he was nothing short of greedy. Shoving his tongue past your pearly whites, he explored your mouth, trying to get to taste more of you. You moaned for him when he sucked on your tongue again, his piercing rubbing against the muscle. The heat that had begun pooling between your legs made you shift around his lap, only to be rewarded by the blond bucking up his hips in an attempt to chase the feeling. Both of you moaned into one another’s mouths, and you were sure you had never craved something this much in life. Sam’s hands had left your butt now, fingers working on unbuttoning your pants. His fingers were skilled, so the small button keeping the shorts together definitely wasn’t much of an obstacle. In fact, you could feel his fingers toying with the waistband of your panties faster than you could blink. Not that you minded. Quite the opposite; while still enjoying Sam’s tongue dominating yours, you lifted your hips so he could pull down the fabric that separated his slender fingers from your heat.

“That’s a good girl,” Sam cooed in your mouth, making you moan quietly. How could a man have you so wrapped around his finger without even touching your pussy yet?

That quickly changed when the calloused pad of his index finger found your clit, gently nudging the hardening bundle of nerves. “So wet for me already, aren’t you?”

You nodded, your brain not able to produce words that would even come close to explaining that he would be able to make you just as wet by only getting naked.

Your hips rutted against his finger, and in turn, his hardening cock. The blond sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth, the need to get you naked and feel you against, scratch that, around his drooling dick growing in the pit of his stomach. But Sam, ever the gentleman, instead allowed his finger to slip through your folds, circling your needy little entrance with ease before dipping in just the tip.

Your reaction was immediate. You arched in your back and tried to press down your hips to coax him in a little more, but Sam, staring at you in absolute awe, removed his finger whenever you attempted. How could one person be so hot? How the hell could he have gone so long without touching you?

“Sam, please. Give me something,” you begged, licking your lips as you looked down at him. Sam, giving you a toothy grin, finally gave in and pushed a single finger inside of you, enjoying your lip being dragged in between your teeth to keep yourself from moaning his name out loud. His finger thrusted up inside of you, and just to give you a better idea of what was awaiting you he bucked up his hips.

The blond took his time, only adding a second finger after you begged him to, scissoring them within you to coax out more of the moans that sounded like music to his ear. He himself had to dig the nails of his other hand inside of the couch to ground himself enough as to not whimper and moan just from touching you. However, when your hands set into motion to remove your shirt and bra, allowing those fucking pretty tits to bounce free, it was game over. A low moan left his swollen lips as he stared at your chest, shamelessly ogling them. You could have sworn you saw his tongue loll out of his mouth, some drool dripping from the muscle, but a third finger stretching your drooling cunt distracted you.

“Sam, please. Can I ride you? Pretty please.”

He was dreaming, probably. Or he had smoked too much weed and was imagining this; how else could this be happening? But your hips rutting against his fingers that were coated in your slick were telling a different story. And even if all of this wasn’t real, he would enjoy it while it lasted.

“Sam? Please, baby. Please let me ride this cock…Fuck, you are so hard already. I can feel it through your pants…”

The whine that left you when he removed his fingers from you absolutely tore his heart into shreds, but he needed to free his dick. Otherwise, it would have ripped his pants apart, given that pretty begs that left your sweet mouth oh so easily.

He shifted you around in his lap, pulling down his pants and boxers just enough for his erection to spring free. The skin was hot, and you just had to gawk at him. Sam was big and girthy. And at that-

“You got your dick pierced?” You whispered, but it pretty much sounded like a whimpered moan. The blond grinned a little, tongue trailing over his teeth.

“Mhhhm…You like it?”

Fuck. You could have had an orgasm on the spot, by doing nothing else but imagining the pierced tip to bully into you.

Sam opened his mouth to tease you just a little more when he suddenly felt your fingers wrap around his shaft, guiding his drooling tip to your entrance. He was absolutely hypnotized, watching his tip kiss your sloppy hole and the way your thighs twitched. “Fuuuuck…” he breathed as you allowed the tip to enter you. You were insanely wet, and your cunt greeted him with another gush of juices.

The blond decided he could have died right then and there and his life would have been complete; that was at least what he thought until you pushed and pushed and pushed. He just couldn’t take his eyes away from his dick vanishing in your desperate pussy, centimetre by centimetre. His mouth was hanging open, and now you definitely could see his tongue hanging out, his chest heaving and falling quickly as the man who had fearlessly thrown punches before was now whimpering for you.

You yourself weren’t in much better shape.

The metal pushing against your wall the more you sat down on him; his sheer length splitting you open, it all had you a babbling mess. Telling him how good he felt, how big he was, how much you had wanted this. Sam’s hands were pawing at your hips, visibly straining himself from not just fucking into you, fucking everything he couldn’t say right up your cunt. But you needed a moment, he knew by the way your walls clung to him, the way you shifted around. You were so fucking precious, and he wanted you to know. His lips trailed along your neck, sucking onto your skin once he found your collarbones. His finger had taken its place on your clit again, flicking the bud gently as his blue eyes peered at you again. His eyes had the same look in them as they had before, just this time they were also filled with silent worship. This look alone gave you to strength to lift your hips, just to drop them down, allowing him to bottom out inside of you again. The two of you moaned in unison, and for some reason, you couldn’t imagine a life without this dick anymore.

Your hips rutted back and forth as your lips found Sam’s again, the kiss you shared desperate and wet. But neither of you cared as moans spilled from your connected lips. His pre-cum was mixing with your wetness, causing sloppy sounds whenever your walls completely wrapped around him. “You are so fucking pretty on my cock like this, baby. Does it feel good, huh? Like me filling you up? Like bein’ my good girl?”

You wanted to answer, you really did. But your open mouth only let moans of his name pass, so you resorted to a quick nod. You placed your hands on his arms, nails digging into the flesh as waves of pleasure hit you with every single movement of your hips.

“S…Sam,” you rambled, head thrown back. You started to full on bounce on his lap again, your tilted back position allowing him a full view of those jumping tits of yours. They were simply too hard to resist; his head dipped down and placed kisses all over the heated-up skin until his lips finally caught on of your nipples. He eagerly sucked on it, his hand carefully squeezing the other. Couldn’t let one of these pretty tits go without attention now, could he?

The breathless moan that entered his ears stimulated his brain in a way he couldn’t describe. Something feral was awoken within him; the events of the night flashing in front of his inner eye. You were his now, right? His pretty girl, and he needed to show you just that. His hips snapped up quite automatically, while his mouth switched to the other nipple. His finger was still massaging circles into your clit, making your vision go blurry.

Sam and you hadn’t ever done as much as hug, and still, he knew exactly how to touch you. Your nails this time found his chest through his shirt as you tried to keep up with the fast pace he had immediately picked up, your whole body bouncing with his tip bullying up into you whenever you sat down on him. His piercing was rubbing against your walls, massaging them just like they were sucking off his dick. You were pretty sure you had never been this wet before, and you were even more sure that Sam’s crotch was drenched by now.

Sam apparently tried to break you apart as his hips kept snapping up at a rough pace, neither caring about the droplets of wetness falling from your cunt, nor about the way he was whimpering and begging for you with his voice.

The sounds that his vocal chords produced became more high-pitched as his dick twitched and pulsed inside of you. His cock abused your cunt, and you were all for it. Honestly, you would have cried if he wasn’t fucking you like his name was written all over you.

Your orgasm was nearing, you could feel it tickling every nerve of your body, giving you the feeling you had to pull away. But he just felt so perfect. So right.

Trying to voice your nearing orgasm was definitely harder than you had expected. All that you could come up with was his name again. Your tongue felt heavy, like you were drunk. And in some way, you were. Drunk on his dick, his smell, the feeling of his tongue and mouth messing with your tits, him.

Sam didn’t feel much different. He could have sworn that he was about to burst at the seams. You felt heavenly, delicate, and yet like you needed to be pounded into oblivion. He just couldn’t get enough of your tits in his face, of the way you sounded. You were his favourite song now.

“Gonna cum, princess,” he breathed in the valley of your breasts, holding onto your waist to help you pick up your pace. You were sobbing his name as you felt your orgasm tearing at your insides. You wanted to warn him, you really did, but the cry that left you reached your tongue faster than any words – it was unholy. Lewd, and desperate, full of arousal as your orgasm made your body quake.

Your body was shaking on him, the release you felt paralyzing you, and yet it only turned Sam on more. His hips fucked into you ruthlessly, metal of his cock piercing bumping along you as his tip kissed your cervix.

“FUCK!” He snapped, teeth sinking into your tit as a violent orgasm made his cock twitch, spurts of cum painting your walls white.

But that wasn’t enough for Sam. He needed it deeper. He needed you to feel it on your way home. In bed. With heavy breathing, he put his feet on the couch and while holding you down, fucked up into you.

Strained sobs left your lips as your sensitive cunt was abused so mercilessly, but those whimpers that filled the room and came from those beautiful lips; they almost made you beg for more.

The blond only stopped when his hands on your waist began to shake, just like his legs. His thrusts became sloppy and less precise, hips stuttering and losing force until they completely halted. The two of you sat in silence, your head on his shoulder while his arms held you close and secure.

It took you several moments before you shared a silent gaze, your lips meeting in another kiss. This one was much slower, sweeter, even. You still could taste the blood on his tongue, and you still didn’t mind.

When you pulled away, you could see that Sam looked even more beaten now. The scratches had swollen just like his lips, and a bruise was starting to form on his jaw. His neck just looked as bad; love bites scattered all around the pale skin.

The blond’s hand reached out to gently tuck a strand of your hair back, a smile tugging on the corners of his mouth.

You gave a shy smile back, sighing slowly.

“You shouldn’t have fought with someone because of me.”

Sam snorted, shaking his head.

“For you? I’d happily get beat to smithereens.”

[bouquet-of-flow3rs]

!Pairing: Loser!Jake x Cheerleader!Reader!

Genre: Strangers to lovers, mutual pinning, fluff.

Synopsis: You have been pinning over a boy you repeatedly see in the hallway on Fridays and one day you finally get to meet him.

Warnings: Swearing, make outs. [Let me know if I missed anything!]

Jake Sim loves a lot of things.

He loves his dog, Layla.

He loves his family. 

But he especially loves School Spirit Fridays, In fact, those are the days he looks forward to most on school days simply because It means he gets to see you all dolled up in your cheerleading uniform.

You are [Y/n] [L/n] the cheer captain you were the kind of girl that guys wanted and girls wanted to be. Jake believes you came from another planet simply because you were able to pull off the hideous school color combination of red and yellow, now normally, these colors together would be fine but the problem was all people could think about was McDonald's when looking at the cheer team. While you managed to pull it off others looked like they should pull it off since it didn't suit them. On these specific days Jake makes sure to show up in rooms or hallways he knows you walk down simply so he could catch a glimpse of you and if he was fortunate enough he’d catch a whiff of your strawberry-scented perfume. Naturally, his friends make fun of him for this and tease him relentlessly, especially Niki the youngest of his friends, “Dude, you really need to stop with the [Y/n] obsession.” The tall boy teases, “It's seriously embarrassing for you.” He finishes but Jake just brushes him off “You don't understand Niki.” He sighs blissfully, “It's not an obsession, it's love.” Jake states, staring at you with heart eyes as you walk past him once again, “Listen, Jake,” Niki chuckles at his hyung, “You should try just talking to her,” Niki shrugs, “Besides the worst that can happen is she’ll reject you.” This makes Jake whip his head towards the boy with a scowl on his face, “What! No way dude!” He refuses, “What if she thinks I’m weird or something? Or what if she laughs in my face!” He spirals his fingers tugging at his hair in worry.

Meanwhile, you walk into your next class and search the room for the familiar head of your friend Mina. Once you find her you quickly rush over, “Mina!” You squeal, “Guess who I saw again!” You giggle girlishly, and she rolls her eyes, every Friday you do this. you walk down the same hallways so that you can see the boy you for some reason think is cute. She sighs, “Was it your little hallway crush again?” She guesses gruffly, you sequel again and nod your head violently, "Yes, I saw him again!” you smile widely, she laughs at your actions and pats your head making you pout, “You should seriously just go up and talk to him.” she tries to reason with you “Besides no guy could turn the cheer captain down.” She encourages but this just makes you pout more, “But what if he only says yes because I’m the cheer captain?” you cry out “Nah, I’m sure he wouldn’t do that.” She tries to comfort you.

Later you’re sat in class staring at the clock as the minutes tick down until lunch begins. You groan and place your head on the cold surface of your desk glancing over at Mina who is paying attention to the lesson up front. “Psst!” You hiss out trying to catch her attention “Mina!” You whisper shout in her direction finally gaining her attention from a few seats away, she side-eyes you before rolling her eyes and finally paying attention to you, “I'm so boreddd~” you moan out quietly so you don't get in trouble with your teacher, “And what does that have to do with me.” She whispers out sharply, and you groan again, shifting positions “Nothing, I guess but I need you to cure me of it.” You say your voice muffled by your desk, she chuckles at you before turning back towards the front. After she stops paying attention to you you start thinking of random things like what your next cheer choreography should be, and the one you spend the most time thinking about, your hallway crush. 

On Fridays you always see him heading down the same hall as you and your heart skips a beat, you’ve always thought he’s rather cute and you like the glasses he wears, not to mention his accent, gosh do you love a man with an accent. When you stop daydreaming you glance up at the clock and see there's still a whole five minutes before class ends, groaning you place your head back on your desk and jump at how cold it is you hate how cold this teacher leaves his classroom so you try to pull your skirt down lower on your legs to try and stay warm, your saving grace being your long-sleeved uniform top but even the fabric was rather thin and didn't fight well against the elements, but you always made sure to wear it on School Spirit Fridays since you are the captain. You somehow manage to fall asleep and abruptly wake up when you hear the bell go off as you jump to your feet and rush out of the classroom and towards the cafeteria unfortunately for you, you're not watching where you’re going, and end up crashing into some poor individual sending you both down crashing to the cold tile floor. When you look down to who you’ve crushed underneath you you’re mortified to find it's your hallway crush.

Jake’s eyes widen as he sees the incoming floor after somebody had rudely shoved him, when they both fell to you floor the person had somehow managed to fall on him, I mean the nerve of some people, but when he glimpses over his shoulder to see his attacker he catches a whiff of perfume he could never forget, his eyes trail up and land to see your blushing face. No. Fucking. Way. He nearly combusts, but before he can even say anything you’re quickly rushing to get off of him spouting out intelligible words and all he can catch is “I am so, so sorry!” He smiles at you and pushes himself up too before speaking, “N-no worries.” He tries to calm you down but keeps stuttering over his words, you giggle at how cute the boy in front of you is but you immediately regret it because his face looks scared and you immediately apologize again “Sorry, sorry I promise I’m not laughing at you it’s just you look really cute.” You accidentally blurt out the last part, at hearing your words Jake’s face feels like it’s on fire, he can’t seem to get any words out of his mouth, you being the overthinker you are think his wide eyes mean he’s taken offense to your rushed compliment and you immediately try to apologize but his face begins to show a large grin and he starts to laugh you stand there confused but you then join him laughing at the ridiculous moment you shared. Jake’s laughs slowly die down as he wipes an imaginary tear away “Sorry I didn’t mean to laugh it's just that I think you’re really cute too.” He smiles at you and suddenly it feels as if your whole world is brighter, you shyly thank him and offer to buy him lunch as an apology, Jake swears he's dead and has  gone to heaven, “Oh, Uhm sure.” He agrees trying to act nonchalant but you can still see the flush on his face, you then grab his large hand in yours and walk off towards the cafeteria leaving both your friends and his standing there in disbelief at what just happened.

Back at the cafeteria you and Jake sit and start to get to know each other, you talk about a lot of different things, and he ends up showing you a picture of Layla and you instantly fall in love with her, “Oh my gosh!” You squeal, “She is so adorable!” you take his phone from his hand and start admiring the photo up close, Jake laughs at your reaction and grabs his phone from your hands brushing his fingers against yours in the process, causing the both of you to blush, “Uhm, If you want I could introduce you to her someday.” He says shyly avoiding eye contact with you and rubbing the back of his head, You quickly grasp his free hand leaning over the table and pressing it against your chest “Really? You’d do that!” You ask excitedly, his eyes dart down to where his hand is and immediately looks away nodding his head, “Y-yea.” He gulps, and you smile brightly at him, “Oh,” you gasp, “I forgot to introduce myself, I’m [Y/n}.” you say sweetly, he smiles back and you mumble a quiet “I know.” you ask if he said something but he shakes you off and says “Oh, I said I’m Jake.” You mentally congratulate yourself on figuring out your hallway crush’s name “You have a nice name, Jake.” You compliment, he stutters out a meek “You too [Y/n].” causing you to giggle.

After that day you would always seek the boy out during lunch so you could talk to him more, the more you got to know him the more you fell for him, little did you know he felt the same way, he couldn’t believe the girl he’s been crushing on since sophomore year was actually talking to him, he knew you were pretty but you also had a great personality on top of that? God, he's in love. You’ve been hanging out for a couple of weeks now when he finally offers to have you meet Layla. 

Jake stands there next to the gate of the school waiting for your cheer practice to end and for the two of you to walk to his house together, he waits there for a few more minutes before he sees your figure in the distance jogging towards him and shouting his name, he thinks you’re so adorable your school uniform is neat and you somehow still look perfect even though you've just finished jumping around for an hour, when you finally reach the boy you practically jump him wrapping yourself around him like a koala, as he rushes to catch you, you both stand there for a moment giggling to yourselves before you finally let go and grab his hand to start dragging him away from the school, “Come on Jake, we can’t keep Layla waiting.” You laugh out, he smiles at you as you drag him away chuckling at how perfect he believes you are.

After Jake stears you the correct way to his house he pulls his keys from his backpack and unlocks the door, the first thing you’re greeted with is the golden border collie jumping up onto Jake and the sweet sound of his laughter, you coo at the scene and immediately drop your things to rush over and start babying the good girl, she definitely enjoys the attention and starts to jump onto you making you laugh as she tries to lick your face, Jake is nervous that you won’t like that so he tries to assist you in getting her off of you but you glare at him and he puts his hands up in surrender and lets the puppy continue to tackle you. After playing with Layla for a few hours you both decided to watch a movie, you wanted Barbie movies but Jake insisted you watch the Andrew Garfield Spiderman movies, after playfully arguing and a game of rock paper scissors to see which movie you’d watch the winner came out to be Jake, so as he opened the app to watch them, you sat on his living room couch cuddled up with Layla laying over both of your laps.

You were now on the second movie and you had shifted over closer to Jake and laid your head on his shoulder, Jake felt that he needed to stay perfectly still but that made you more uncomfortable so you looked up at him and when you did, you noticed him already looking at you. Your faces are inches apart, he could feel your breath fanning over his face, your noses brushing against each other, Jake’s gaze drops to your plump lips and he gulps his Adam's apple bobbing, you stay there staring at him for a couple of seconds before closing the gap and pressing your lips against his, you can feel his glasses bump into your face and your nose brushing against his flushed cheek,  your lips splitting as you hear a wet pop, all the color drops from your face and you start to sputter out an apology “I’m so so sorry oh my god,” You panic, “I should definitely not have done that I’m so sorry I-” “[Y/n]” Jake tries to butt in “I’m so so-” you’re suddenly cut off by Jake placing his hands on your flushed cheeks and pulling you in for a second kiss, this kiss is more passionate than the one you shared before and it pulls you in deeper and deeper, it's dizzying the way Jake kisses you it's messy and desperate but more than anything it perfect.

After kissing for a few minutes you finally pull apart from each other and Jake rests his forehead against yours both of you stilling trying to catch your breath eyes closed but holding each other tightly in your arms, After catching his breath Jake finally works up the courage to ask you out, “Uhm,” He breathes out his voice hoarse, You stare at him with your foreheads still connected, “c-can I be your boyfriend?” He asks, his voice hesitant but filled with hope, you quickly pull your forehead away before tackling him to lay down on the couch, your arms wrapped around his neck and your face on his chest breathing in his cologne, “Only if you’ll let me be your girlfriend.” You giggle out, “It’s a deal.”

Please reblog and like if you enjoyed this!

[sixosix]

indebted | mikage reo

( ? ) reo spends money on someone who refuses to be indebted to anyone, FLUFF I SWEAR

( A/N ) why are my bllk fics literally about meeting again i think i have some strange obsession with this trope. ANW THIS FIC IS SOOO CLICHE but i think reo is cheesy like that

the sky is a pretty shade of blue, birds are chirping sweet songs from where they’re perched on branches, and cherry blossom leaves are floating along the wind; some are even pooling around his feet. love is in the air, one could say. pluck out every element you could see in a high school-inspired love song music video, and you’ll get precisely what reo is experiencing.

but none of those are what reo is looking at right now.

no, not when you’re standing before him, and his pulse is unsteady. 

“i like you,” you say. “i want to go out with you.”

reo’s eyes go round, spluttering syllables that are strung together hastily. he settles with a: “w-whuuu…”

the small group of students who decided to tag along with reo all gasped and ooh?. reo doesn’t know why he’s the one feeling mortified, heat crawling up across his cheeks.

you’re staring at him with a fierce expression, refusing to back down and shy away despite the crowd. it’s like you don’t care what they think or say so long as you get your words across. he honestly respects it.

reo scratches the back of his neck, guilty for some unfamiliar reason. he’s gently rejected countless others before, so he’s unsure why he’s so reluctant this time. maybe it’s because you’re looking at him like you know what you want, and it’s making him feel flustered in a way he hasn’t felt before.

“don’t just stand there, reo!” someone butts in, as if it’s his business. as if he’s confessing or being confessed to.

you and reo turn to glare venom at the guy, who shrinks under both your gazes.

reo’s gaze finds yours once again, trying for a comforting smile.

“i’m sorry. i can’t accept your confession,” he murmurs and winces at the feigned cries of the people around him. his heart pangs painfully in his chest when he sees your crestfallen expression. “i really am sorry!” and he is. “i bet you’re nice—“

you hold up a hand, a universal sign to shut the hell up, you’re making it worse, idiot. “it’s fine. you don’t have to say anything else aside from a ‘no’, reo-san.” the smile you give him is pretty painful. or is it painfully pretty? “thank you for your time.”

reo blinks when you swivel around. he feels incredibly horrible, to be frank.

reo watches you leave until you’re out of sight, only snapping out of it when nagi shoulders him to tune back into the laughter of his classmates, teasing him relentlessly about the confession.

“man, are you always this nice to your fans?” one of them snickers. “you’re sick for leading the l/n y/n on.”

reo frowns. “i’m not leading them on, i’m just trying not to be an ass to people who admire me, unlike some people.”

“oooh…”

reo sighs, leaning against nagi’s terrifyingly solid figure. “y/n, huh?” he mumbles.

the hallways are unusually empty today. reo is usually swarmed by students from his class or even others, especially during the hour of lunch break.

there seems to be an influx of students crowding downstairs, though, judging by the faint cheers he can hear all the way from the fourth floor.

someone passes him, brushing his forearm, and reo almost ignores it.

“oh, hi, reo-san!” the voice says, and it snaps him right out of his wondering.

reo blinks, doing a double take. “ah, y/n.”

you skid to a halt, facing him over your shoulder with a pleasantly surprised expression. “you know my name already?”

reo feels caught, somehow. he doesn’t know what to say, so he nods and smoothly switches subjects. “where are you runnin’ off to?”

you don’t move from where you’ve stopped, and reo feels the need to catch up, so he jogs like an obedient dog. the nearly terrifying grin you shoot him does little to cover your amusement. “you’ve been spacing out during class, top of the class? there’s a parade going on right now for the school festival, i’m heading down to watch.”

oh. so that’s where everyone went.

in reo’s defense, he went to the bathroom minutes before break—most likely when the teacher announced anything regarding a parade. and nagi is nowhere to be seen to inform him about it. knowing nagi, he’s hiding away on some random floor’s stairs to play games on his phones quietly.

reo nudges you with an elbow and realizes halfway through that he never asked if you’re even okay with him doing that. he clears his throat, “let me come with you, then.”

“c’mon, pretty boy.” you pick up the pace, and he could’ve tripped on air hearing that. “don’t make me miss out on the fun waiting for a snail like you.”

reo makes a show of scoffing, but he can’t hide the smile in his voice.

you both make your way downstairs, chatting idly all the while. it’s small talk—mindless, almost, but reo finds himself relaxing quickly in your presence like he didn’t just meet you yesterday. like you didn’t just ask him out, and he rejected you yesterday.

“ahh, the stalls are up already?” you frown, scanning the area and onto the line of students swarming the field. “i thought they wouldn’t be serving anything this early.”

“if it’s what you’re worried about, it’ll be my treat,” reo finds himself offering without thinking.

“will it, now?”

minutes later, you two find yourselves walking out of the line of stalls with bags of snacks and street foods (even trinkets you weren’t planning to buy but reo wanted you to have). it was all a blur. reo didn’t know he could start from roaming the hallways to having a nearly empty wallet with you by his side.

blinking incredulously at the heap of bags slung over your forearms, you say, “i’ll pay next time.”

reo shrugs, pleased with himself but trying so hard not to show it. “it’s fine.”

“what? no, it’s not fine. i’ll pay you back,” you say, stern. there is no room for dispute.

“it’s really no big deal…” and it’s not. he gets enough money to fill up his wallet easily once more. upon seeing your glare, he concedes. “fine, do what you want.”

your bright smile at that response makes him realize something about you.

reo is ashamed to say it, but ever since yesterday, he’s been noticing you more and more often.

it’s embarrassing to admit that he hasn’t paid attention before, but it’s even more embarrassing to realize that he keeps finding you everywhere—it’s almost incredulous to think that he has never met you earlier.

what’s worse is that reo is excited when he does catch sight of you.

images of your moment with him come to him in a flash, and he almost fucks it all up by approaching you out of nowhere—he could, but he doesn’t know what you still think of him after that. he, for one, would feel as if he’s being pitied when the person he confessed his feelings to starts coming up to him without any good reason.

that’s the thing: reo can’t think of a good reason.

“stop overthinking,” is all nagi says to reo’s mindless rambling of his current crisis (read: above). “you shouldn’t look too deep into it, idiot. if y/n can confess to you just because, then y/n can tell you to screw off if you make things weird.”

that is surprisingly a piece of very reasonable and thought-provoking advice.

“okay,” reo says. it makes sense.

he doesn’t have to do anything, though, because nagi looks up from his phone, sees something, and tells him reo can just text him what happens because he’s heading straight home.

“what? what? where are you going, nagi?”

“reo-san—” reo jumps in surprise, “—sorry, did i scare you? haha, that was cute!” he turns and sees you grinning up at him, impudent like you hear precisely what is going in his head.

“y/n,” he says, horrified to feel sudden warmth crawling up his cheeks. how do you keep doing that? “when did you…”

“are you free? i still have to pay you back, don’t i?”

he wants to say that if you feel like you owe something, you don’t, and reo doesn’t care about the money he spent on you, seeing how much fun you had yesterday. yet the excitement evident in your voice kills off the rebuttal on the tip of his tongue.

reo finds himself laughing, mostly out of disbelief. “alright.”

you beam, his expression softens, and the sunset is beautiful this afternoon.

“come on, i know this really good place,” you tell him, reaching for his hand like it’s natural. reo’s eye catches on the charm dangling on your bag. his heart does something weird when he realizes it’s what he picked out for you. “you mentioned you like ichibo steak yesterday, right? you’re in luck.”

reo should really get checked up. he’s been feeling incredibly warm lately.

you two decide to ride a taxi. reo texts nagi that he is out on a platonic—emphasized platonic, in bold, italic, and even underlined—date with you, as friends, and all because you felt guilty. the sticker nagi sends in return says he does not care.

along the way, you two fall into easy conversation once again. reo feels so relaxed that he doesn’t realize until later how wide his grin is. and when he does, it’s when he starts to notice everything else, too.

“it’s weird! i just passed them, and they gave me weird looks. i wanted to square up and ask, what? you wanna fight? i would beat them, no doubt,” you say, huffing. reo chuckles a little. at the sound, you pout. “what’re you laughing at? you don’t believe me?”

“of course i believe you.”

you grin. “that’s right.”

the car stops, and you pay for the ride before reo could even blink and lead him outside. your enthusiasm is endearing, reo has to admit. it feels like you actually like him and like being with him.

the gentle hold you have on him, the way your fingers are absentmindedly rubbing circles on his skin, the way his brain is melting out of his ears—when did he get so soft like this? it’s insane.

it probably means he is happy to have you as a friend, right?

in a seat for four people, reo pointedly decides to sit next to you because sitting across would make it look weird—it will feel like an actual date, and reo is not sure how he can handle the thought of that.

you don’t question it, and reo feels embarrassed to think you probably think he’s so strange that you don’t blink at it. instead, you tug him closer by the sleeve, pointing at his favorite food with sparkling eyes. it’s adorable. you’re so damn excited that it’s rubbing off on him.

reo’s mouth again runs off before his brain can catch up. “are you alright with us hanging out like this? after…”

you understand immediately. reo can’t quite see your expression properly because you’re leaning down to study the menu; however, your answer seems unfazed: “i don’t mind. i like you, don’t i? you already knew that, so that’s a silly question.”

you turn to him, smiling. “of course i’d like being with you, too.”

“ah.” reo’s face is on fire. “so… why did you even like me?”

“hm.” you make a motion of rubbing your index finger and thumb together. “money.”

reo eyes you with a scrunched nose, speechless.

you laugh brightly. “kidding! kidding! kind of.” reo nudges your knee with his as a warning. “okay, okay. i thought you’re cute, alright?”

“really?”

“really.”

it’s almost enough to make him forget how your face fell when he rejected you. almost.

is it normal to think about that so much?

(no. the answer is no, obviously. but reo doesn’t want to think about the reason why it’s a no.)

reo slouches against the seat, his arm brushing against your side. “oh.”

“that was so good,” reo groans. he burps inelegantly afterward, laughing along with you. “fuck, you were right. i’m coming back here again.”

you snort, waving your fork around. “i told you! i’m never wrong, don’t doubt me about anything ever again.” there’s sauce on the side of your mouth; reo brushes it off with his thumb without thinking, as if in a trance.

you pause, going still. you’re staring at him wide-eyed, flustered, and reo finds himself thinking that he likes that look on you.

he snaps out of it the second after, blushing profusely. “sorry, i don’t—” to save himself from explaining, he calls for the waiter for the bill instead. real smooth, reo. did it like a real rich kid.

“hey, wait, why are you paying?” you ask, frowning.

“you already paid for the ride earlier, remember? you don’t owe me anything right now, so let me pay.”

“reo—”

the waiter comes, reo scans the receipt quickly, and slips money in. he also tells them to keep the change, to which the waiter starts bowing and thanking him for, which probably means he paid them more than he’s supposed to.

you slump, bottom lip jutted out. “now i’m indebted to you again.”

reo grins. “i know.”

you become something else to him entirely. more than friends, though not quite lovers. tip-toeing lines, ready to risk it all, but never crossing over.

reo laments this to nagi, who he realizes suddenly becomes an expert.

“for someone who didn’t hesitate to reject y/n, you’re quick to regret it every day,” nagi remarks. “don’t be stupid, reo. the answer is right there— oh, i lost.” nagi is sad now, not that reo can see it because he’s having a crisis.

by the time reo realizes that what he feels for you is more than a simple crush, it’s far too late. he’s on the bus, your last message with him is a goodbye, and his life is flipped upside down.

TIMESKIP

reo sits alone on a bench in the middle of a public park, holding a popsicle and checking his watch occasionally. his knee bounces, impatient, but his last text will stay as: i’ll wait for you no matter how long.

he sighs, his head slowly tilting up to face the sky.

it’s as beautiful as he remembers it—the day he regrets more than anything. all that’s left is for birds to chirp and leaves to dance around his feet.

he had to reject his friends’ offer to go out, as it’s not often blue lock members are given off days. however, it’s a small price to pay if he gets to see you again.

“i’m here!”

reo nearly jolts in surprise, his whole body instinctively preening at the familiar melody of your voice. he turns, and his heart bursts.

it’s been so long. too long. yet every detail about you is still the same as he daydreams about when it gets a little too lonely: from your smile to the way you’re looking at him with overwhelming fondness. there’s no mistaking it—the happiness tickling his chest says more than words could.

he is so fucking in love.

you stand there, a little nervous and hesitant like you’re ready to run with one wrong move.

so reo won’t fuck this up. not anymore or ever.

“y/n,” he breathes, tugging you by the arm to pull you closer. “i missed you.”

“i missed you, too,” you say, melting in his grasp. “i didn’t think you’d— i didn’t expect you to still want to see me after high school.”

“don’t be stupid,” he chides, gently flicking your forehead. “of course i’d want to see you.” your gaze shifts to the plastic he’s holding in his other hand, and he almost smacks his face for forgetting. “right, here. i bought you ice cream because it’s a bit hot today. thought you’d like it.”

“so thoughtful,” you coo, poking his cheek before gratefully taking the popsicle from him.

he pats the vacant spot next to him. it took all his willpower and rationality to not gesture his lap.

“um,” you fidget, tongue darting out quickly to lick on the icy treat. reo is not getting distracted, he’s not. “what was the question you said you wanted to ask? that text almost made me want to chuck my phone across the room, you know? we haven’t talked for months, and that’s the first thing you send me.”

“sorry,” reo can’t help but chuckle, scratching the back of his neck. “i just want to do this before i regret anything again.”

“you have regrets with me?” you frown, hurt.

reo nods, and fuck it, reaches out to cup your chin. there’s a smidge of melted ice cream; he swipes it away with a thumb. “the day we met,” he says distractedly.

there’s a moment where you can only look at him incredulously, a little offended. but understanding dawns on your face soon after. “that was the day i confessed.”

he nods, proud. “you’re still indebted to me, aren’t you?”

“yes? you made sure you were the last one to pay for anything when you won me that plushie at the arcade a week before you left,” you recall fondly.

“alright, then.” reo takes your free hand to pull you closer to him, stunning you to silence. the popsicle starts melting at the sides—it could be from the heat or from how intense reo is staring at you. “pay me back by going out with me. as your boyfriend.”

THIS IS SO RUSHED I KNOWWW but take it and appreciate it please i dont even kno where the reo brainworms came from

[hotvintagepoll]

Charlotte Greenwood (Oklahoma, The Gang's All Here)—gotta submit Queen of the Dancing Scrungle charlotte greenwood! she was a lovely very tall lady, but when she gets dancing you know there's gonna be some scrungle on the floor 2nite

James Cagney (Yankee Doodle Dandy, A Midsummer Night's Dream, Public Enemy, White Heat, The Strawberry Blonde)—Whaddya mean I've gotta SUBMIT Cagney? You look up scrungly in the dictionary and there's a picture of him RIGHT THERE. He IS the scrungle. -SHORT KING 5'4 3/4 (1.65m) I could put him in my pocket -When he rolls down his car window (in Mayor of Hell) sticks his head out and makes some snarky comment (which I didn't hear because I was way too distracted) it's like struck by lightning, let me tell you -His hair is so wavy and sometimes it falls over his forehead and then I die a little -He plays The Public Enemy number one, everyone thinks of this as "the one with the grapefruit scene" but it is SO SO much more than that, it's also the one where he wears little striped pajamas -Multilingual (Yes, I'm the same person who submitted EGR and listed this earlier. Yes, this is a big thing for me.) He spoke Yiddish, guys and you can hear him speak it in a movie (Taxi) AND when the Warner Bros. tried to discuss him without him knowing they used Yiddish not realizing he'd understand everything -He talks so fast. Like. Staccatto. It's so fascinating -Loved animals & owned CHOW CHOWS (that's a very scrungly dog, c'mon) -Plays Bottom in Midsummer Night's Dream, that's the guy who gets turned into a DONKEY, nobody else could've played it like he did -Messed with Warner Bros. all the time, threatened to quit, told them he was going to go be a doctor instead -He does this little nose scrunch thing oh my god -Boy Meets Girl is a supremely underrated screw ball comedy and he has lots of silly little outfits in it and acts ridiculous the entire time -Was fascinated by farming and just puttered around on his tractor, like he's just a little guy! -There's a movie where he has a silly little mustache (I haven't seen it yet though) -They've dressed him up as bellhops, sailorsn cowboys and itty bitty gangsters [in movies] and frankly that should be enough -His first show biz job was a female dancer on the chorus line

This is round 1 of the contest. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. If you're confused on what a scrungle is, or any of the rules of the contest, click here.

[additional submitted propaganda + scrungly videos under the cut]

Charlotte Greenwood:

James Cagney:

James Cagney is such a scrungler. He could dance, he could sing, he embodied the gangster role, he was a short king, he had curly hair, what more could you possibly want?? Something about his face just feels so Looney Toons to me. He's like a little bug and I'm observing him through my magnifying glass. I'm obsessed with his hair and his scrunging demeanor!!! He's the most guy to me of all time. I tried to draw him once and completely failed. You could crumple him up like a tissue and watch him float away in the breeze.

Fanvid

A second fanvid

A third fanvid

He is the SCRUNGLIEST of gangsters, it’s the role that made him famous, and by god that’s for good reason. He also plays a peculiar little guy in musicals and occasionally westerns, all with a particular flavor of scruffy city rat energy that you can’t help but adore!  

[xxaraaq]

𝙎𝙩𝙧𝙞𝙘𝙩𝙡𝙮 𝘽𝙪𝙨𝙞𝙣𝙚𝙨𝙨

masterlist

Sypnosis | You had worked you ass off to build up your... distinguished business. When a powerful and crazy man strikes up a deal you can't refuse, how will your relationship with him flower?

wc | 2.05 k

cw | Toxicity, death threats ig, office sex, talks about drugs and other illegal activities, unprotected sex, etc.

Brothel owner! Reader x Mafia boss! Sukuna

A/N | Hey yall. Ik i havent posted anything in a while but I hope this makes up for it. It's lowkey nasty so have fun with that.

You worked hard to get where you were. You kissed more asses than you could count, laughed at stupid men's jokes to feed their fragile egos, and laid down in satin sheets with people you wish you could strangle while they slept. 

But you had made it, and now you were thriving.

You had finally gotten your own establishment with hundreds of beautiful women to please the money right out the men that visit them once their families rest for the night, it was a truly booming business. And you treated your girls right, with ample security and consistent checking for anything out of the ordinary. So many came flocking to you, you had to turn them down. And it hurt your heart seeing good profit like that walk away, but you had a standard you had to keep. Too many girls means not enough space, and that’s where it starts to get messy.

But you have your assistant, Toji Fushiguro to help out. He was all the muscles and glares to keep any unwanted company away, but sexy enough to keep the women occupied with their daily eye candy. It also helps that he’s as obedient as a dog and obsessed with you. You tell him all the troubles you go through, and he listens with a hum, massaging the knots out your shoulder as you groan in relief. And you appreciate it, letting his rough hands roam your body as you spread your legs. It was a fair exchange, and it was easy. Practically everything was.

Until he came.

You knew who he was – everyone did. And everyone knew that death followed him everywhere he went. They called him crazy, cruel, and cynical. You just thought he was an excellent businessman. You didn’t want him knocking at your doorstep, but you couldn’t help but respect his ways. He worked in a way that people feared and respected him. It amazed you if you were being honest, for not many men could do what he does how he does it.

He came to you with a deal. You hide drugs and counterfeit money for him, he supplies you with free men for security and any pardon you want from the police. It was a fair exchange, and you knew you couldn’t reject it anyways. So you shook on it and told your managers to round up all the girls to tell them as well.

It started out as strictly business. Short, muted phone calls about when the next shipments would arrive. Then for some reason, you wound up with his personal numbers. You declined at first thinking it was beginning to get friendly, but he brushed you off, saying that it was merely a way to keep in better contact. You knew where he was trying to head with you, but you were a curious person, and you wanted to see where this headed.

He started showing up more, through the back door of course. He would interrupt your business meetings with a care in the world, and you would have to deal with it, dismissing your employees while he stood stoic and tall, as if he was a cheeky kid proud that he got his way. 

“You can’t keep bursting into my room in the middle of the evening. People will think you like me.” You say, eyes peering at him as he walks towards you. “Since when have you cared about what people thought of you? If I remember correctly, you’re the owner of a brothel.” He sneers, talking to you as if you’re below him. You’re eyebrow quirks, picking up on his attitude. “Don’t put words in my mouth Sukuna, I didn’t say I cared about what people thought of me. I said, what will people think of you if you keep acting like I'm your mistress.” You spat, face wrinkling up in annoyance. His glare at your tone did nothing but make your cunt throb, but he wouldn’t know that, not until he fucked you at least.

“You are my mistress, or have you forgotten the meaning? He says, standing between your legs. You looked up at him with a gaze full of hatred, and he smirked at that. You did hate him, truly. But you couldn’t deny that he made you feel like no other, no matter how many people you’ve slept with. “What do you want?” Your eyes meet his as you stand up. He grabs your waist with a borderline painful grip. Something must be wrong, for he’s never held you this tight. “One of my men, a very truthful man, told me that he saw you with Gojo a week ago. Is he lying?” And it was. He wasn’t the only man you entertained, he just happened to be the best. You weren’t a sex worker yourself, but you liked to endeavor in sleeping with powerful men. It was a game to you, and you love seeing them come back for more. It was an addiction, and you were an addict.

“You’re not the only strong man in my life, y'know. You’re not as special as you think.” You caressed his chin, jawline sharp and newly grown stubble coming about. “Yeah, and who else do you fuck when I’m not here, hmm?” He questioned, looking down at you as you play with his tie. “I mean, obviously there’s Gojo. Then you have Suguru, they’re like two peas in a pod,” You laugh, “They’re great when they’re apart, but those boys are such a tease when I get them together.” You can see him get more agitated by the second, and it just spurs you on more. “I also fuck Toji on occasion, seeing as he’s the one most available. Really reliable, that one.” You smile to yourself, hands moving up to his hair. “There are more, but those are the ones I remember the most.” You tease, feeling your ribcage ache as he squeezes harder. He probably doesn’t even notice himself doing it, and that reason alone makes you grin. “You got anyone else to add to your list of clients?” He asks. It strikes a nerve, and you push yourself away from him. “Don't speak to me as if I’m a prostitute.” You snide, chest contracting in anger. “Aren’t you though? I mean, you fuck people for money, you dress clad in what? A dress that your boobs are bound to spill out of? In all ways besides actual, you’re no better than the girls you employ.” He says, sitting down in your chair.

If you could kill him right now you would. But even through anger, you’re not stupid. So you relax your face and stride over to him all so calmly, like he never degraded with such harsh words. “Is my boy mad because he feels like he’s being replaced?” You taunt, voice going up an octave. You sit in his lap like you’ve done it one thousand times before. His hands come up to your waist like second nature, and you lean in to whisper in his ear. “Well you are, so if I were you I would do something about it instead a throwing a conniption fit over the other men I fuck when you’re not here.”  

He pulls you back by your hair, smashing his lips into yours. You moan into him, grinding against his clothed cock. He lifts you up into the air, swiping all the contents off your desk. “That shits important you fucking idiot.” You curse, unzipping his pants. “Stop acting like you don’t have the means to replace it. 

He was right, but that’s not the point. 

You lift your hips up for easier access as he rips your underwear clean off. He stuffs it in your mouth flipping you over before you can react. You brace yourself on your forearms as he drops to his knees, lifting your dress off your ass, spitting a glob of saliva onto your already soaked pussy. “You’re one crazy bitch, you know that? Getting all wet for me as I demean all you’ve done to get where you are.” He snides, running his thick cock over your hole. You want to chide back, but you're breathless as he thrusts into you. The desk shakes as he ruts into you from behind. Your arm mindlessly reaches for his, grasping onto his bicep. He pins it to your back, leaning closer to your ear. “You had all this to say about me acting like a baby, but you’re crying and babbling like one. I remember you saying you hated hypocrites. Where’d all the fucking atitude go now?” He kisses you back, biting after. You shudder at the pain as the force almost breaks the skin; but a deranged, primal part of you wanted him to do it again until he did. 

He flips you on your back, clasping your thighs to pull you closer. “Keep em’ up.” He grunts, rubbing your clit in big, slow circles. You pull your legs up to your chest, spreading them wide to give him a view. He chuckles, slapping his dick on your now swollen cunt. “What would the girls downstairs do if they saw their beloved madam get spread on her desk like a used slut?” He asks, kissing his way from your ankle to the front of your foot. “What would your wife say if she saw you fucking me like a ‘used slut’.” He full on laughs at your remark, slowly pushing himself back to chastise you for your slick mouth. “If you’re gonna fuck me, then do it right.” You say, grinding your hips in search of friction. “Oh?” He hums, head nodding to the side in mock confusion. 

You don’t get another word in before he fucks back into you, harder than ever before. “Ohhh shittt.” You mewl, head throwing back by the sheer power of his thrusts. He grabs the nape of your neck, pulling your forward to look into your eyes as he gives you the best fuck of your life. “You got something to say baby? I can’t hear you over your pussy y’know. You’re gonna have to speak louder.” You could say he’s tormenting you at this point. And you hated to say that you loved it. “C-cum in meee.” You moan, eyes rolling to the back of your skull. “You said what? I can't hear you baby, ya’ gonna have to speak louder than that.” He banters back and forth, thrusting getting sloppier as his core tightens too. “I s-said I want you to c-umm in mee.” You sob, tears streaming down your face. “You forgot the magic word princess.” He runs on, poking at you to set you off. “I’ll fucking kill you you son of a bitch.” You curse, reaching up to pull him towards you. You smash his face into yours as the band in your core snaps. “Fuckkkkkkk.” You wail, legs shaking as you ride out your orgasm. Sukuna follows right after you, shooting hot spurts of cum into you as his groans fill the rooms. All you hear is heavy breaths as he collapses on top of you, sweat and slick covering both of your thighs and torso. 

You draw shapes on his broad back as he rests between your legs. “If you ever sleep with Gojo again, I’ll kill the both of you.” He says, standing back up. You knew he was being serious, but you liked to press his buttons. “I’ll invite him over the next time you come then. You’ll learn how to share better that way.” You roll your eyes, closing your now aching legs. He sucks his teeth, fixing himself as you do the same. “Your mouth will be the reason someone kills you one day.” He says to himself, shaking his head with a snarky smirk gracing his face. 

You walk towards him, wrapping your arms around his neck. “That day will not be today, and that person will not be you. Count on it.” You whisper, pecking his lips. He will never cease to be shocked by your articulation. “Now get out.” You command, straightening yourself out in your compact mirror.

He might fuck you like a dumb whore, but he’ll always know that you’ll always beat him at his own game.

-Nene

[smutracha]

Vellichor I

Mafia!SKZ Yandere!SKZ afab!reader POLY!SKZ 

tw: violence, blood, guns, knives, nicotine, drug abuse, alcohol, ptsd

Vol 1 Vol 2 Vol 3 Vol 4 Vol 5 Vol 6 Vol 7 Vol 8 Vol 9 Vol 10 Vol 11 Vol 12 Vol 13

Third person POV:

Y/n loved the smell of this little bookstore she visited every Saturday and Sunday afternoon, the smell of coffee wafting past her as she sat under the magnificent cherry blossom tree with her new book of the week. This same tree that had sheltered her in rain and covered her in petals while she was just a student and new to the country and even now as an adult.

And when she abandons her beloved tree, he knows it is not for long. She will be back with a fresh tea and a pastry, and for him a brand new poem. So, he watches her go.

“She is heading back into the bookstore, boss. I really got to tell you I do not think there is any reason to be watching her.” “It will dawn on you all the longer you watch her.” “I’ve been watching her for 6 months, she’s beautiful but what’s with the obsession.” “Just wait.”

“Y/n you know most kids your age go out drinking and drink coffee more than anything else, and why you insist on looking after that rickety old tree I don’t understand.” “Aunty, you know I grew up reading books back home, every second I had away from school would be spent reading. I love it. It’s an escape that I need. And so, when I moved to Korea and found this place and that beautiful tree, and when I saw that you sold the rooibos we sell back home, well I fell in love. This became my escape. And that tree became my friend. The hominess of this place makes me feel almost at home, like my soul is home.”

And after she returns to the tree with a poem and tea, she sits quietly, pondering a thing or two…

“Hey, I like rooibos tea too” “You know Innie, you suck at stealth” “Where’d you two come from?” “Oh, nowhere really” “You are so dumb” “I HEARD THAT YOU DOG”

“Are you guys ok?” “We’re fine.” “Just here to enjoy the scenery.” Oh, then sure sit with me. You want my tea?” “Yes please.” “Seung, you can’t just take her tea.”

And in silence the girl read poetry to the tree while the two mysterious boys watched. And when she stopped she announced her resignation.

“We should walk you home.” “Yes, a woman should never be alone at night.”

“Say what is your command captain?” “Okay, you’re sweet. Follow me boys.”

They walked for a while, deciding outside of a convenience store that late night snacks and soju would be an amazing idea.

A little further up the road they got to a tiny but cosy loft apartment, briming with greenery and books. Simple and earthy. That is what y/n is. That is why all this fuss about her existed, they got it now. They knew now, tonight they would see the way they needed her.

She went to put her TV on. Some show about a mother and daughter who drank loads of coffee came on, she insisted that Gilmore Girls was the basics of comfort shows. They decided that she was right, because this was her and she would be right in anything she declared to them. 2 bottles of soju later and she was gone, of course Innie and Seung only had like 2 shots each. So, while Seung was getting her settled in and comfortable Innie called the boss.

“Oh yes tell that pretty boy Jisung m with her right now. She is so beautiful when she is asleep, wonder what her lips feel like… who knows? Oh well, we will be staying over here to look after her and clean up. Y’all can meet her tomorrow. But God hyung, you were right about her.”

[luv4georgie]

101 dalmatians.

unknown!Oscar Piastri x fem!reader

in which here are a few special moments between young married couple, Oscar Piastri, Y/n Y/l/n and their dogs, Pongo and Perdita.

prompt list

warnings: fluff!!!

walkies. 1 (Pongo POV)

i lived in an old flat in London with my pet, Oscar. although Oscar was Australian we lived in London, he wanted to live here because he thought it was more ‘calming’ and it could be better to pursue his music. Oscar loves playing instruments and singing and writing songs. he wrote songs and lyrics about romance which he new absolutely nothing about. he was a rather handsome man in my case. i just don’t know why he couldn’t find such an attractive mate.

it was 11:00am and Oscar was playing away at the keys on his piano. by the look on poor Oscar’s face, it wasn’t going too well. i was laying on the couch near the window, my head slightly sticking out of it. my eyes wandered as i looked for a lovely young dog with a pet to soothe mine’s loneliness.

my eyes followed a small pug with her head stuck up, her pet looked the exact same. a too short couple, i thought but no, not for Oscar. next i saw a rather fancy breed, a poodle with her head held high, a beautiful trim and a pink bow sat on the neatly kept curls on her head, her pet looked unusually the same as well, nope not Oscar’s type. an old Shih Tzu with her pet, an extremely young Labrador with an extremely young pet. it was a problem, a real problem. but then… well! i do say. the most beautiful creature on four legs. a Dalmatian, just like me. now if only the girl… well! she’s very lovely too!

they were heading for Regent’s park, a perfect meeting place. oh… but Oscar never stops work until after 5, it’ll be to late. but what if… i took my snout and moved the hand over to 5:15. perfect! i barked until Oscar noticed me. i took my red leash in-between my teeth and barked once more. Oscar looked at me, then the clock, then at his watch. he stretched and groaned “after five already?” he asked himself. he changed the time on his watch and stood up. “well then Pongo boy, we best get going” he clasped my leash onto my collar and we were off.

i practically dragged Oscar down the stairs and out the door. i strode down the paths of Regents park, passing multiple dogs i had seen before. i was starting to lose hope. but then i found them. sitting on a bench in-front of a pond. i strode down the path in-front of the woman and her dog. the girl looked up at us a few times. Oscar sat on the grass. i needed to stir up some sort of attention. i took Oscar’s hat off of his head and placed it on the seat next to the pair. and for some odd reason, they left! i tried to follow but Oscar clipped the leash onto my collar. but u still dragged him away. ah-ha! there they were, once Oscar was on his feet, i wrapped my leash around the woman’s legs. they both fell in the water, but, they laughed, and that’s when i knew. they loved each-other and i loved Perdie.

Cruella De-Vil. 2 (Y/n POV)

i was sat on mine and Oscar’s shared couch. me and him were married for about 6 months now. Nanny, our house-keeper brought out our tea and some muffins. “thank you Nanny. Oscar dear! tea-time!” i shouted up to Oscar who was practicing the melody for his new song. it was a rather nice melody, but it just needed some lyrics. Oscar came down and danced around with Pongo, humming his song. my hand covered my mouth as i laughed. then we heard an all-familiar honk of a car. Cruella. Cruella and i went to school together, years ago but we were still friends.

it looked as though Oscar’s ears pricked up at the sound. “oh that must be Cruella. your dearly devoted old friend” Oscar smirked narrowing his eyes at me. he new how much of a self-obsessed person Cruella was. they despised eachother. “Cruella De-Vil. that’s it!” Oscar said again. my eyebrows bunched together. “Cruella De-Vil… Cruella De-Vil… if she doesn’t scare you” he started singing. jumping in-front of me as i headed for the window to see if it was really her. “no evil thing will!” he sung. “oh Oscar!” i said as i swatted his chest playfully. “to see her is to take a sudden… chill!” he carried on. as he sung i felt a finger run up my back and i shouted in surprise. “Cruella, Cruella De-Vil” he stopped, sneaking up to the attic to where he was practicing.

“let her in Nanny!” i shouted as Oscar played the melody loudly. before Nanny could open the door Cruella barged in and walked hurriedly to the living room. “Y/n darling!” she practically screamed. “hello Cruella” she wondered around the first floor of the small house. “where are they? for heaven’s sake where are they?” she shouted repeatedly. “who Cruella?” “the puppies of-course” “they’ll be at-least 3 weeks” i giggled. “would you like some tea?” i asked. “no darling! i’ve got to run! just tell me as soon as the puppies are here!” she boomed with her loud voice as she took off out the door. “goodbye” i said. i flopped down on the couch with a loud sigh. Oscar came down singing again. “you’re no help” i said as i pushed him out of my face, taking me with him.

Oscar spun me around as we danced to his song. we laughed and danced. then we just looked into each-other’s eyes as Pongo barked and jumped around with us. we backed up against a wall and Oscar snuggled his face into my cheek and kissed it. we giggled. “oh you really are an idiot” i chuckled. “i love you” he whispered. “i love you too” then we just stayed there for a few moments, smiling at each-other.

-

should i do a part 2??? thanks for reading and sorry it’s so short!!! ❤️❤️❤️

[deviousdevilx]

Here ya go @rosie-tyler @theweirdcobrakaifan

it +18 !

Daniel knew it was foolish, stupid really to follow the long haired man into the spa, but he needed answers. Having left Chozen behind, Daniel set off on his investigation.

He immediately regretted it, the moment he confronted his kidnapper who stood next to Sensei Wolf.

"You sent this thug to kidnap me? Why?" Daniel accuses the younger sensei, but before Sensei Wolf could answer, a recognizable voice replied instead.

"Because Danny boy...what would life be without a few surprises?"

Daniel never wanted more than for the floor to swallow him up in that moment. Of course Terry Silver was back, and of course he'd pull a move like this.

"You were behind my kidnapping?"

Smoking a rather large cigar, lounging in a large bubbly jacuzzi, Terry Silver smugly grins, "Your obsession with your mentor's past made it way too easy."

Terry smirks from the jacuzzi before waving off Sensei Wolf, and the thug, Dennis, once used to harass Daniel all those years ago, but right now Terry wants to be alone with his Danny boy.

Stunned, scrambling to form words, any retort, really, Daniel knows he should just walk out but pauses. Terry's men could or would likely be behind the door.

Fuck it. He's stressed beyond words. Johnny leaving, the tournament, the kidnapping, the latter which was due to the man before him.

The jacuzzi looked inviting, if only it was unoccupied, but beggars can't be choosers.

Daniel swiftly removes his sweater, than shirt, for once leaving Terry Silver speechless. No witty remark, or comment. Just silence, as Daniel strips.

"I've had a real shitty last few days, some of which can be blamed on you...a fucking dog cage?" Daniel starts rambling angrily, as he works on removing his pants.

The shock wears off Terry's mind as he watches Daniel strip before him in all his glory. He'd always admired Daniel's lithe slender form. Even at his age, Daniel was beautiful. Always was, always will be. So he sits in silence, enjoying the view as Daniel continues to rant.

"Ever since we arrived here, shit's gone wrong, the kids are stressed, I'm stressed, Johnny and Miguel had to leave, Carmen's in the hospital, not that you'd give a damn. I've learned some things about Mr. Miyagi, Kreese is fucking with my head...and now you! You're here, like a fucking cherry on top of my shitty sundae of a week!"

Naked, furious, Daniel climbs into the jacuzzi. He finally realizes what he has done, and the ravenous stare he is now getting from Terry.

Before he can react, Terry pulls Daniel on to his lap, and it becomes very apparent he's quite pleased with Daniel being naked in this jacuzzi.

"You sound stressed Daniel, and I know just how to relieve it."

A large warm hand creeps up over Daniel's thigh, fingers massaging the skin. Daniel is unable to move much now, with Terry's one arm wrapped snugly around Daniel's middle. The taller, old man was not about to let Daniel squirm away free.

He should know better than to let Terry fucking Silver jerk him off in the jacuzzi, but Daniel is beyond reasonable thinking the moment Terry's lip touch the back of his neck, gliding down to suck where his neck meets his shoulder.

Terry's very large hand wraps around Daniel's semi-erect cock, and pumps it to life. In a matter of minutes, Terry has Daniel writhing, moaning, and gasping on his lap, dissolving into a trembling mess. His own erection pressing against Daniel's firm round little ass. Maybe not today, but it would soon penetrate past those sweet little cheeks.

Right now, Terry is solely focused on pleasuring his Danny boy.

"That's it, that's it Danny boy, come for me," Terry whispers into Daniel's ear sensing the other is very close to release.

"Mmh harder, faster!" Daniel urges with a whine.

Anything for his Danny boy.

Afterwards, Terry has Daniel wrapped in a thick cozy bathrobe, and leads him into another room for a pleasant full body massage. By him of course. Maybe later he'd have Daniel ride him.

After supper, perhaps.

[violet-moonstone]

THW Rewrite

More headcannons because I have not been able to stop thinking about this franchise for the past 13 years, and I have over a decade's worth of opinions.

I've already posted some of these ideas but ehh it's fine.

While I enjoyed watching it for the first time, THW was disappointing to me for a variety of reasons. (The music was probably the best out the franchise though, I'll say that) Grimmel didn't reach his full villain potential since the writers used Ruffnut's lack of judgment as his key to success instead of him being a capable strategist. (Also they did my girl so dirty. She may be a dumbass, but she's not an idiot!) I don't like that the dragons left after just 6 years. I don't like that all the riders except for Hiccup and Astrid are just played for laughs instead of shining like they do in RTTE. I don't like whatever the hell Snotlout's obsession with Valka was, and I didn't like Toothless' "romance" with the Light Fury. I hate that even dragons can't escape half-developed romance and a nuclear family as the ultimate character accomplishment.

So here are my edits (looking back, there's quite a bit going on, so it may need to be split into 2 movies or a short TV series)

The time jump happens between movies 2 and 3. (I want a full movie with bearded Hiccup and "Homecoming" does NOT count) 10-15 years have passed, so the riders are about 30-35. Zephyr and Nuffink are either little kids or preteens and are getting to an age where they're starting to train dragons.

Astrid is more rough around the edges like she was in HTTYD 1 and Rob/Dob/RTTE, not just Hiccup's supportive gf/wife. Instead of making her softer, motherhood has made her fiercer because she has more people to protect. Hiccup on the other hand is a doting father and can't say no to the kids if they give him puppy dog eyes: heart melted every time.

Toothless finds his original flock(?)/herd?/murder?/unkindness?/parliament? of Night Furies instead of just one "soulmate". Each can have their own personalities and roles in the group while Toothless is the baby. I think it would be interesting if, like Hiccup, Toothless was quite small compared to his peers - potentially explaining why he was on his own and got separated from the group before meeting Hiccup.

Dagur and Heather are brought into a council meeting as Berserker allies. Hiccup greets them in a way that clarifies things for audience members who haven't watched the show. I suppose Mala would also be in it too. I don't dislike Mala but I hate her and Dagur's relationship. More development needed there.

Gustav should be there too, still very much trying to prove himself as a dragon rider and occasionally messing things up.

In terms of the main plot and villains, I'm not too picky, although I've said before that I'm tired of dragon mind-control being the main villain tool. I'm fine with it if Drago comes back as the villain, but if not, the villain should just be dragon hunters or rival dragon riders who use their dragons for conquering/raiding other settlements.

It can hit pretty much hit the same story beats as before but with better character dynamics.

Make Ruff and Tuff more instrumental to mischief and redirection in a way that helps the plot.

Give Fishlegs more credit for his discoveries and record-keeping about dragons.

Snotlout and Eret are together (or implied to be together if that's the best we can get). Snotlout is also no longer Hiccup's rival - he should be his second in command. They can disagree from time to time, but ultimately, his loyalty is not in question.

Fishlegs and Ruffnut have kids who cause chaos with Zephyr and Nuffink.

It would be cool to include a couple characters from other parts of the world with dragon mythology. I understand that Vikings are white but if we have goddamn flying dragons, there's no reason there can't be visitors from other cultures (who aren't villains).

Ending option 1: The movie can end with the dragons going away, but now they've been with the Berkians for over a decade and it just feels more impactful.

The "there were dragons when I was a boy" line can either be Hiccup talking to his grandson after an even longer time jump, or Nuffink talking to his own kids about Hiccup's adventures.

Ending 2: the Berkians go to The Hidden World with the dragons. Hiccup writes a memoir to leave behind. We hear him reading from it at the beginning and assume that means dragons are going to leave, but it's actually a diversion to make people think dragons are gone so no one tries to look for them.

Ending 3: We accept that HTYYD takes place in a different world so we don't have to explain why dragons don't live among us anymore. The movie ends with Hiccup vowing to make the archipelago safe for all dragons and Nuffink and Zephyr take up the mantle of discovering new dragons. The dragons stay and they all live happily ever after, the end :)

I'm tempted to actually write this as a fanfiction but I already got a lot of writing projects atm. We shall see.

edit: I'm writing it

[fandomfucker]

Write ANYTHING for Zoey stark 😻😻 AND MY SOUL IS YOURS 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻

ANYTHING ISTG

Lost-Zoey Stark X Gn!Reader

Your soul, my dear 🤲

This is solely based off of myself having lost crickets the other day so enjoy my very real pain. This also features my real bearded dragon and his real name, I'm not afraid to block if anyone disses him or his name😤

Word Count: 1,785

3rd Person POV

Other than dogs and cats, Zoey was never the biggest fan of different kinds of pets. Like exotic pets.

Especially her partner's "lizard".

"How many times do I have to tell you? He's a bearded dragon!" Y/n joked with their girlfriend. Zoey just rolled her eyes at their typical antics, an adoring smile tugging at her lips.

"All right," Y/n started, gripping Zoey's hands to make her look directly into their eyes. This was serious business. "Are you sure you'll be okay feeding Turnip for a couple of days? 'Cause his vet can keep him just fine."

While both Zoey and Y/n worked in the WWE, they would often be given different opportunities for various things. Currently, Y/n was going to New York for a photo shoot with a magazine for a few days.

"Y/n," Zoey stared deep into their eyes, completely serious. "I promise I'll be okay. It's just some crickets and worms, I'll be fine. And I have Kai and Sly both here for emotional support if I'm not." She smiled, proud of herself for that statement.

Y/n stared at her with their eyebrow quirked but eventually released a small huff of a laugh and pulled Zoey in to give her a lingering kiss.

"I got this, I swear." Zoey looked at Y/n's face, seeing the lingering doubt on their face. "What, do you think I don't got this?"

Y/n pulled away and brushed Zoey's biceps. "I think you think you got this. But I have to go, my Uber's here. I see you in a couple days, okay?"

They leaned forward, giving Zoey another kiss before grabbing their luggage and making their way out the door to the car parked at the bottom of their driveway.

Zoey stood in the doorway, watching as her partner left, waving them all the way down the road until she couldn't see them anymore. She clasped her hands, rubbing them together as she walked back inside, making sure to shut the door behind her.

She looked at the pets who both sat in front of her, both of their tails wagging as she addressed them. "Alright, let's go feed Turnip."

Walking into the spare room they used to house Turnip's tank, Zoey went straight for the rolling cart of food next to it, picking up the plastic cricket keeper.

She brought them up to her eye level, cringing with disgust as she watched the crickets run continuously run over each other and their own shit. It was revolting.

Grabbing the feeding tongs, she sat down on the floor in front of the tank, meeting Turnip's bastardly face. The two had never liked each other very much but Zoey tried her best to keep the peace for Y/n's sake.

He tilted his head, staring at her with his beady little eyes as she struggled to get the lid of the crickets open. She managed to pop it open at the same time she turned around to yell at Kai and Sly for scratching at the door to get in. For reasons unknown, they both had an obsession with sitting in front of the tank and staring at Turnip.

She kept the lid as close to the top as possible so as not to let any crickets accidentally escape. Sliding the tank door open, she held the container inside the tank so that if any did come out they'd be inside of the tank.

Sliding the tongs into the container, she managed to catch one of the crickets fairly easily and held it out for Turnip who immediately stuck his tongue out, snatching up the cricket and chomping down on it loudly.

Zoey repeated this process a few times until he was full. She removed the cricket container, slid the tank door closed, and put the tongs back, popping the cricket lid back in place before going downstairs to wash her hands and watch TV for the rest of the night.

"And Y/n was worried about me," She scoffed to herself.

--------------------------

After dinner the next night, Zoey was sitting on the couch when she noticed her cat, Sly, fixated on something on the stairs.

Not wanting him to eat something he wasn't supposed to, she walked over to check out what had attracted his attention.

In the corner of one of the stairs, was a dead cricket. "How in the hell did that get in here?" She mumbled to herself, going to grab a napkin from the kitchen to pick it up.

The thought that it was one of Turnip's had crossed her mind, but she deduced that it was too big and had to be a wild cricket that must've gotten in through the garage or front door undetected.

So, she just threw it away and went about her business until later that night when going to check on Turnip before going to bed.

An unusually loud chirping caught her attention and she made her way over to the tank, where it was louder.

She picked up the keeper, causing the crickets in it to stop making any noises but the chirping continued. And not from inside the keeper she noted.

"No," She whispered to herself in horror.

She set the keeper down and began frantically searching for the source of the noise. She had left a cricket in the tank earlier in case Turnip had gotten hungry again and decided to have a little snack but no longer saw it there.

Twenty minutes later and every object in the tank had been turned over and searched. Even Turnip had been removed from the tank for a short time just to make sure.

That was when she noticed the giant hole for cords and such at the top of the back wall inside the tank.

The blood drained from her face as her eyes widened. “There's no way,” She spoke mainly to herself, before turning to Turnip who was eyeing her warily. “It couldn't have gotten up there, right? It can't climb a smooth surface.”

Still, Zoey put Turnip back on his basking rock inside the tank, closed it, and stood up, hands on her hips.

“Alright Turnip, brace yourself." She grabbed the front right corner of the tank and gently lifted it, dragging it towards her to pull it away from the wall.

Once it was far enough away that she could see behind it, she grabbed her phone and turned on the flashlight.

Taking a deep breath, she shone it over the crack between the tank and the wall and peered into it.

On the floor, were not only three crickets walking around, but cricket shit littered the carpet.

She turned back to the keeper because how were there three back there if she only lost one?

And that was when she noticed that the lid had actually not fully closed shut and had not been closed this entire time.

"Oh my god," She clamped her fist over her mouth, not knowing what the hell to do.

Looking around in a panic, she grabbed the feeding tongs and decided she was going to catch them with the tongs and put them back in the feeder, easy peasy.

Except it was not easy peasy, as she held the tongs in one hand and her phone in the other, shining the flashlight on the crickets as they ran away.

"Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit." Zoey scrambled around with the feeding tongs, trying to pick up the damn bastards to no avail.

She finally caught one, holding it away from her and cringing as she dropped it in the feeder. She fully closed the top lid this time to make sure no others escaped and opted to use the one-way side flap to dump them back in.

A few minutes later, and having pulled the tank away from the wall even further on both sides, one more cricket was caught and returned to the keeper. Two down, one to go.

Zoey ran back and forth to either side as the cricket ran, moving things out of the way beside the tank to make sure she didn't lose it.

She kept just missing the cricket as it would jump out of the way of the tongs at the last second every time.

And then she lost it under the bookshelf. "Damn it!"

Leaving the room to grab a wooden ruler small enough to go underneath the shelf, she passed her pets who were thoroughly judging her.

Walking back into the room, she got down on her knees and began swiping the ruler underneath the shelf, in the hopes that she'd catch the cricket with it and drag it out.

After fully sweeping back and forth several times, Zoey came to the horrifying conclusion that it must've crawled out without her seeing it. It then dawned on her that it could've been behind the bookshelf.

Grabbing her phone for the flashlight once again, she began using her camera to see the crack between the shelf and the wall.

With the pets at her feet, Zoey watched the videos she'd taken back, noticing something on the middle of the wall.

And sure enough, checking on the other side of the shelf with the flashlight, there the little fucker was. On the wall. Somewhere she couldn't reach.

After several futile attempts and two hours later, the cricket was still somewhere behind the bookshelf as far as she knew.

Exhausted and damn near crazed, Zoey turned to Kai who had stuck around this whole time, lying in front of Turnip's tank watching Zoey. "I think we're just going to have to call it a night."

She reached out and pet his head before getting up and going to bed, after making triple sure the cricket keeper was closed.

--------------------------

A few days later and Y/n was finally home, much to Zoey's delight.

They sat on the couch together, tangled up in each other's bodies with Kai and Sly lying by their feet. "Babe," Y/n gently nudged Zoey's head where it lay on their shoulder. "I need to get up to put my clothes in the dryer."

Zoey shifted her head to look up at them and kissed their jaw. "You stay here, I'll get it." And pushed herself up out of their comfy embrace, giving Y/n a small kiss before making her way to the laundry room.

As Zoey got closer, she noticed something small on the ground right in front of the door on the carpet and bent down to get a closer look.

It was the goddamn cricket.

Relief and fear both flashed through her as she ran to grab the tongs. Whether it was dead or not it was going back in the keeper.

She successfully managed to relocate the cricket back to its rightful place and move her partner's clothes into the dryer without any suspicion from them.

As she returned to the living room and cuddled herself back up to Y/n, she decided that Y/n never needed to know what happened while they were gone.

[lover-222]

Love Story (Pablo Gavi)

...

"so how did you two meet, people are obsessing over you guys and are considered the hottest couple of 2023" the interviewer asked the young couple.

"it's actually a funny story" y/n smiled at looked at gavi who was seating next to her.

y/n gonzalez, sounds familiar doesn't it?

"c'mon let's go, it would do you good sister. you guys broke up 3 weeks ago and you have to go out and have fun" pedri told his young sister.

"no pedri, me siento fatal no quiero ir déjame en paz. porque quieres que vaya a tu entrenamiento? si nada mas vas a correr y a patear una pelota por una hora?" she said annoyed then covered her body with a blanket.

(i feel horrible i don't want to go leave me alone. why do you want me to go see you train? if all you do is run and chase after a ball for an hour?)

he laid on her bed and played with her hair, "maybe because after we can go eat ice cream and do whatever you want hermanita?"

y/n looked at her brother and gave him a weak smile, "okay fine fine just let me get ready".

pedri always felt protective over his little sister, perhaps even more than their older brother fernando. y/n didn't mind it, just for the reason that he wasn't overboard protective over her.

it also came with advantages, pedri was an amazing brother. when they were younger he would play with her and even attended many tea parties. when fernando would pick on her pedri was always there to tell him off.

once they arrived at camp nou she sat in the nearest seats closest to field. pedri had left to get changed and do whatever he had to do. she sat down and scrolled through her instagram and scrolled on tiktok for a bit. after awhile she noticed all the barcelona players going to the field and carrying out equipment to start their training.

well at least i got out to see some eye candy, she whispered to herself.

they were all attractive boys but one particular spanish boy caught her eye. he was breathtaking, his brown hair was perfectly cut. his jawline was prominent, it looked like he was sculpted by the gods.

as they trained, y/n would glance at the boy; earning a couple of glances back to her. although she would quickly look away. by the end of training, the boy was flushed red and his hair stuck to his sweaty forehead. y/n didn't care, to her he still looked amazing.

pedri came to where she sat at, "got enough eye candy for today?" he joked.

"cállate pedro, i was not" she rolled her eyes.

he left to change and meanwhile she waited, someone else came to greet her.

"hi you must be pedri's sister y/n right?" he said.

it was him, the pretty boy she had been seeing all afternoon.

"yes hi, you were pretty good out there, what's your name?" she smiled trying to act fine while inside she was freaking out.

"thank you, i'm pablo gavira but you can call me gavi" he said then smiled, she melted.

"looks like you guys met already so i won't introduce you two anymore" pedri chimmed in and chuckled.

the siblings left and proceeded to get ice cream at the local ice cream shop.

"cookies and cream?" he asked her while she nodded, pedri always knew what she liked.

"gracias hermano" she smiled.

they went for a small walk which then lead them to a park. there was not many people at the park, there was an old married couple, a man and his small daughter walking their dog, and a young couple laying on the grass. y/n and pedri laid on the grass and ate their ice cream.

y/n sighed as she looked at the young couple who were laughing. pedri looked at their direction, "you were to good for him, you deserve better. he was an awful boyfriend, you deserved to be loved" he said.

she nodded while tearing up, "i just can't believe he was cheating on me the whole time we were dating, i should've caught on to it".

he wiped her tears with his thumb, "it's not your fault, it's his; he lost an amazing girl".

she smiled and kept eating her ice cream, pedri was smirking.

"what? what are you going to do?" she asked him, she knew that smirk he was up to something.

"i think i can set you up with one of my teammates" he wiggled his eyebrows.

"no pedri no, not with the pretty boy" she said.

"oh so you think he's pretty? if we are thinking about the same one, then it's gavi" he chuckled.

"i mean yes he's pretty but it's too early to start another relationship" she worried.

"he told me to give you his number and instagram, besides you guys can take it slow" he added.

later that night, y/n scrolled through gavi's instagram. it was filled with pictures of his team, and awards he's won. she scrolled to the bottom of his page, and while scrolling too fast, she accidentally liked one of his picture. funny enough it was a baby picture of him and his sister. she wanted to throw her phone at the wall and hide in their room forever. y/n got distracted by a text and groaned.

unknown number: i guess pedri gave you my instagram and you were stalking me??

y/n: he did and i wasn't stalking you. i was just scrolling and my finger slipped.

gavi: right if that's what you want to go for. i think it's cute either ways.

quite frankly she was kicking her feet and twirling her hair while texting him. although she felt a sense of guilt, was it too early to move on? or was it the perfect time to finally try something new and be happy.

gavi: would you like to go on a date with me? i'm really interested in you y/n.

y/n: yeah that would be fun :)

the day finally came and she was excited to say the least. she got dressed and headed downstairs. the couple went to a local restaurant and clicked. time went by so quickly, she felt at ease with him. y/n felt like she had nothing to worry about and her anxiety was gone when she was with gavi, she also felt extremely comfortable.

6 months later...

"i told you guys, you'd end up together" pedri smirked.

she laughed, "gracias cupido", she smiled and looked at gavi who was next to her. y/n attended a barça dinner, i mean her brother was technically right, if he hadn't dragged her to his training that day, she wouldn't have been there with the boy of her dreams.

the interviewer smiled at the teen couple, "entonces tu hermano tuvo mucho que ver en tu relación?" (so your brother had a lot to do in your relationship)

"si pedri siempre me a cuidado desde pequeños y el le ayudo a gavi a conquistarme" y/n chuckled. (yes pedri has always taken care of me ever since we were young and he helped gavi win me over)

"el si es un real cupido gracias hermano" gavi chimmed in and hugged y/n. (he is a true cupid, thanks bro)

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ─── a/ n hope y'all enjoyed this one

d<3

[kenny-the-ken]

Y O U + M E |Pt 3|

A LOT OF WARNINGS WITH THIS ONE!!!! ALL AGED UP CHARACTERS AND IN HIGH SCHOOL/COLLEGE!! Loosely based on the Netflix show YOU, if y'all have seen it,,, then you know what Kenny's gonna do. If you haven't seen it,,, strap yourselves in, it's a lot!! Yandre Kenny, strong language, sexual content, violence, mentions of blood, gore, stalking, obsession and narcissistic thinking, so please beware!! I warned y'all!!

ALSO!!! A lot of this fic is written as Kenny's internal monologue and from his perspective so bare that in mind!!

Spring break. The literal bane of my existence. I mean, don't get me wrong, I love parties, I've taken more drugs than most people I know, excluding my parents of course, but Spring Break in the US was known for crazy parties, girls half naked in bikinis, guys chugging 2% alcohol content beers thinking that they're the shit, and copious amounts of drugs.

I don't care about any of that though, no, not at all, which you may be extremely shocked to hear, the only thing I cared about was, what were you doing for spring break?

Were you going to any parties? Were you meeting any friends, old or new? Were you planning to show yourself off in a tiny bikini, not that I'm complaining, but I'd rather see you like that alone, without other men's wondering eyes glaring at you as if you're a piece of meat. I can promise you y/n, that would not end well for anyone involved.

I had texted you this morning, like we do every morning. We fucked but after that it felt like we drifted apart. Or rather, you drifted from me. So here I sit, in my bathroom, cock in hand with my face buried in your used panties that I'd stolen from a while back, I assumed you didn't miss them much, and anyway, they were currently in use.

I'd give anything for another taste, your lips were soft, plumped, and oh so red from how aggressive I can be, your h/c cascaded perfectly down your back, and your breasts.

"Fuck." I knew thinking about you like this would make me cum faster, and that's exactly what I wanted, for reasons you'll find out soon enough.

Your pierced nipples and how perfectly shaped they were, your ass was round and perfect for slapping when you needed taught a lesson. Your hips were perfect for gripping, and oh how I'd grip your hips and fuck myself deeper and deeper and shit.

And just like that, here I am, hand covered in my own jizz, cock twitching between my legs and your panties still in my hand.

I have a box, I keep it under lock and key behind my wardrobe, just some little souvenirs, your panties, some nude Polaroids I'd found of you in your bedroom. Oh yeah, and one of Clyde's teeth. Just to remember him by.

You see, although we weren't dating, that didn't mean that you weren't in need of protection, you see, I'd overheard Clyde chatting to Jimmy about how he was thinking of asking you on a date. Now, I've known Clyde for a long time, he uses women like they're nothing, fucks 'em, leaves 'em.

What did you expect me to do? I mean, I did this for you! He was going to take advantage of your kindness and use you for his own sexual gratification and desires and then throw you away like you're worthless, and you are far from worthless. I'd kiss your feet as you walked the earth if you'd let me, oh how I'd worship you, like you deserve to be.

It wasn't too hard to kill Clyde, you see, when you've been known as a fuck boy before, which I unfortunately have been, other fuck boys, they tend to trust you more. So Clyde was pretty easy to reel in. I told him the truth, how I was working on an English project with you and I fucked you in your bedroom, and Clyde was all over that shit like a dog on heat. He was so focussed on what he was planning to text to you, obviously with my keen eye proof reading it for him, he was too distracted to notice me coming behind him with a brick. He only realised just as it was too late, sorry dude, your skull's caved in.

We needn't worry about the details of where his body is, let's just say... I've taken care of it. And tonight was our date, and also the first night of spring break, I would ask you what you were up to, and of course I wouldn't demand to come, unless you chose to invite me, no, I would just hang out in background, you won't even notice that I'm there. And I dare anyone to try anything, they would be dead men walking.

It didn't take long for the time of our date to roll around, and I stood on your doorstep, politely knocking on your door a few times, before smiling as the door cracked open.

You were breathtaking. I'd worked my ass off at City Wok to be able to afford to take you out to dinner, and my god, no food could ever look as delicious as you looked right now. Your tits, your hips, your ass, your legs, your hair, your face, everything! We were destined to be together, and when you smiled back at me I swore my heart swole in my chest.

"Hey, Kenny. You ready to go?" You asked, pulling your leather jacket on over your short, black dress that was showing off way too much cleavage for me to control myself for the entire evening, god I'd take you right here right now if I could.

"I was born ready, baby. I got these for you." I replied, bowing to you and holding out a small bouquet of flowers, your hand clutching your chest, and a gasp leaving your red stained lips.

"They're beautiful, Ken! Oh you shouldn't have! I'll just go get these into a vase, please come in." You spoke like an angel, and who was I to say no to an invitation into your home?

"I wanted to. I really do mean what I said last time, I've had my eye on you from you moved here, y/n, and you're different than those other girls, you're special, I can tell." You cheeks were flushed which meant that my charm was working. You'd be mine soon, and as much as I wanted to show you off to the world, I also wanted to hide you from it, so no one would dare to try and steal what's rightfully mine, or they'd end up like Clyde. Buried in the middle of fuck knows where.

"Had your eye on me? Not a little stalker are you, McCormick?" You joked, and I hoped it was a joke, you were laughing and so was I, so that was a good sign.

"Not at all! I mean, how could my eyes not go to you when you walk past me? I mean, look at you!" And slinging my arms round your hips would surely make you see that I was nothing but a pure gentleman.

"You're such a flirt, Kenny." God the way you looked at me, it was no surprise that to me that you'd stolen my heart, god the things I would do to you, the things I would do for you, oh they were criminal, but in this moment as I stood staring into your perfect e/c eyes, I couldn't care if my crimes caught up with me, I mean, getting away with it would be easy, trust me, I'm not that stupid.

Around two hours had passed and so far, our date seemed to be going perfectly, you were laughing at my jokes, I flirted, and you flirted right back, you'd told me about a huge spring break party at Tolken's house, you'd asked me to be your plus one, of course I'd gratefully accept, I needed to keep you safe, you even took my hand within your own when we were leaving the restaurant, my plan was working a charm, and you'd invited me in to your house for a quick night cap, no doubt I'd be staying the night.

And when you led me to your bedroom wearing nothing but some skimpy lingerie, I knew that your panties that were in my safe would be getting a much needed night off from being pressed against my face.

You were on top of me, grinding on me, fuck you were so needy, and my cock was growing by the second, I couldn't help but groan and pull your hips down against my own.

I'd swapped the positions, and now you lay beneath me, I'd left dozens of hickeys all over your neck, your breasts, your stomach, thighs, and now I was going to taste your sweet cunt again, god I couldn't wait, it had been too long from I'd tasted you, had my tongue inside you, claiming your insides, god I was starved, and I couldn't wait any longer, and just as I pressed a closed mouth kiss against your parted lips, your fucking phone rang.

"Ignore it. Don't answer." I ordered, my tongue lapping up your wetness, a moan coming from your lips as your phone started ringing again, and of course, being the kind person that you are, you answered.

And this couldn't have been a worse time, your face was worried, and you moved my head from where I wanted desperately to be for the past week, it was your mother.

Drug overdose, she was in hospital and you had to be there to take care of her, not that she ever did the same for you. No, you'd told me previously that our lives were similar in a lot of ways, and that's where my need to protect you came from. You were like a delicate flower awaiting to bloom, but others put you in the dark, stopped you ever from doing so, from ever reaching your full potential, but I was here now. I was going to care for you, I'd put you in the sun and give you all the love and support I could, the perfect partner, a soul mate some may say.

And as you hurried to pull your sweatpants and T-shirt on to your small frame, tears welling in the corners of your eyes, you gave me a hug, whispering sweet apologies, and I offered to come with you, which you declined. And I understood why, I hated people meeting my parents, seeing my sorry excuse of a home, fitted with built in meth lab in the garden. You were embarrassed, ashamed of your drug addict mother, and I felt that pain, I knew it personally. I was strong enough to deal with it, but you darling, you're too fragile, far too good to be feeling that way, and by god would I protect you from anything.

I'm so sorry to say this baby, your mother will never get clean, she's never been clean your entire life, it truly is a miracle that she's lasted this long. I'd be doing you and everyone else a favour. You'd told me this wasn't the first overdose she'd had, and every one made you feel the same way, like you were the parent, like you were at fault, you didn't keep an attentive enough eye on her, the pain you were feeling was soul destroying, not just for you, but for me too! How dare that woman who brought you into this world make you feel so awful, how dare she cause you pain and misery, if she died it would mean she couldn't cause any more of that, sure you'd be sad, but you'd realise in time that life was better without having to worry every time you left the house if you would come back to your mother, her skin blue and covered in her own vomit, which she choked on in her drug idled state.

And I would care for you, I'd be your shoulder to cry on, your support network, your lover and your boyfriend all tied into one, the whole package, you'd fall straight into my lap and I swear, I'd never ever let you go.

I'm sorry hunny, but your mother needs to be dealt with, and it would be easier than you'd think, one bad batch could wipe out hundreds of drug addicts, and besides, it's not as if I'd never used this method before. My parents died of an 'overdose', well, at least that's what the coroner's report said on the matter, Karen was put into my care, and the home was given to us, and life had been so much happier from I did my whole family a favour and took them out of the equation, and I know you will feel the same, in time at least.

As I drove you to the hospital you told me about your childhood. How you'd been in foster care, then your mother cleaned her act up and for a long time she was stable and in recovery, till she met some douchebag when you were ten, and she was back to using again, and your life had never been the same since.

When we pulled up outside the hospital, you hugged me tightly and kissed me twice, telling me that you'd text me later, and thanking me for the lovely evening, I assured you that this was to be the first of many of these delightful evenings, and even in the deepest depths of your pain, you still smiled at me.

I watched you till your figure disappeared inside the hospital, and I knew there and then what had to be done. I'm sorry baby, but your mother isn't good for you, she's not good for you, not good for us!

She had to go, and I had to be the one to kill her.

[glacierclear]

Okay, so I need a whole fucking rant about Leon's trauma from you, just straight up ted-talk, please, I'm begging you, just any though about this topic that's rattling in your brain

oh good lord, anon. im taking deep breathes but why would you ask me this why would y-

im putting this under a cut because other wise it'd be annoying

need everyone to keep in mind that im still in the baby beginning stages of my resident evil obsession so finer details pertaining to lore and stuff i will not be aware of !!!!! a lot of this is probably headcannoning anyways...

leon's entire character makes me so sad but so stupidly passionate. this young, bright-eyed boy who just wanted to help people. being forced into an unending nightmare. the actor in re2r did such a good job portraying his earnest flavor of justice.

the fact that you can tell he thoroughly believes everything is his fault and even if you told him none of it was his fault he would probably just cry and pretend to accept what you're saying but none of it would reach his heart. and he's not even half-assing anything. he wouldn't forgive himself if he didn't do everything in his power to save people, to do his job, and even then, he can't forgive himself when he does...

that scene in re2r where he first meets marvin and is like "there was another cop...i tried to save him...i tried..." and you can see his lips quiver and he has to bite them to keep himself from collapsing in on himself. it KILLS ME.

and even after that nightmare he was forced into being DSO's little attack dog for the rest of his life. he probably thinks that's what he deserves. he doesn't deserve to have a proper chance at life anymore after screwing up raccoon city so bad. and he probably doesn't have anyone he can really confide in...not truly.

any relationship he manages to have outside of work is probably so loveless. i feel like he is undeniably attracted to partners who don't value him. it validates the part of him that thinks he's the reason all those people died.

maybe he intentionally lets himself get hurt on missions. he drinks until he can't stay awake, until he barfs it all up and then he drinks some more. because otherwise his brain won't stop reliving the past. he probably knows he's sexy. that he's objectively handsome. but he's utterly convinced that if anyone knew him. like actually knew him. they'd be horrified and run away. and he knows he doesn't deserve a good life partner. not really. not truly. he wouldn't be able to make them happy.......

that being said he probably loves animals so much. especially dogs. unconditional love that he can very clearly see, reciprocate, and receive. it's uncomplicated.

it's rare he gets through the night without waking up. either by nightmares or panic attacks or some form of "i feel like im gonna be killed" . he probably trains for hours and hours a week. he has to get better he has to BE better. he has to do it for the people who live and who died. he carries all that on his shoulders. and considering how many times he's been infected with bullshit viruses and parasites over the years he's probably convinced he's JUST LIKE the monsters he kills and that maybe, at any moment, he could hurt those in his life.

and to top it all off. for everything he has to go through and everything he has to fight and everything he has to kill for. he has to do all of that with fucking hair in his eyes because he refuses to get a different haircut.