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bloodrvvvsh · 7 months ago

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Needs Me When He’s All Alone. | Post-Prison!Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: You and Spencer had broken up long ago — his work kept him too busy for a relationship, is what he told you. Now, several years later, when your paths cross again because you take a job as his boss's assistant, the feelings you both had buried seem to be rekindled.

Pairing: Ex-Boyfriend!Post-prison!Spencer Reid x Fem!Assistant!Reader

Warnings: Unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, babes), p in v sex, rough hate sex, dom!Spencer, sub!brat!Reader, afab + fem!Reader, hints at some sort of rivarly (kinda) between Spencer and Emily, face fucking, spit/drool, spanking, face slapping, very sloppy and messy fingering, hair pulling, hand around the throat (no choking), dacryphilia, lots and lots of biting, back scratching, marking, orgasm denial, praise, degradation, name calling (slut, whore, prick, asshole) + pet names (princess, baby, pretty girl, sweetheart, good girl), creampie

Word count: 4.4K

Notes: Another PWP from me, who’s surprised. Anyways enjoy and stream Starfucker by Slayyyter ✨

It would be a lie to say you hadn’t thought about Spencer Reid since your breakup.

You tried not to think about him, but it was impossible to when you were still so hopelessly hung up on him. It was almost pathetic with the way you were always mentally comparing your dates to him, or spending the day dreaming about him and his big hands and big.. other things.

It was even worse when you considered the way he decided to dump you, too. Some excuse about his work keeping him too busy to maintain a relationship. What kind of a reason is that? It’s not like you ever minded when he was away on long cases, it just made the reunion all the more sweeter in your opinion.

But it wasn’t good enough for Spencer, apparently. You were not good enough Dr. Spencer Reid.

Or, at least, that's what you told yourself when your mind wandered a little too far a little too late at night. It was the same thought that had been cycling through your mind for the past five years. Why else would he dump you for some lame ass reason after nearly three years of dating?

That was the past, though. You were moving on and moving forward. There were more things in life than an ex-boyfriend who happened to be really great at the time. The world didn’t end five years like you might have thought, the earth continued to turn and you continued to wake up every morning.

Today was a day you actually woke up with a sense of excitement bubbling inside your chest. Today was the first day of your new job. You had always preferred the quiet hustle of office jobs and this job was exactly that.

While some might be intimidated by the idea of working for the FBI, you really didn’t mind it. It wasn’t like you were going out on the field every day. You were just an assistant, and you were fine with that. Living in DC, it was a little hard to escape all things governmental and the like, so really it was just another Monday for you.

You watched as the numbers on the elevator ticked by as you rose up. Tucked in the crook of your elbow was a manila envelope and a coffee in your hand. Your free hand fell to the hem of your skirt, tugging on it slightly to hopefully provide some more coverage to your body. The skirt was a little short, but you had paired it with some black pantyhoses to - quite literally - cover your ass. You weren’t sure how well it was actually working, though.

The elevator dinged with the arrival of you to your floor. You let a deep breath out through your mouth before you stepped out. Your heels clicked on the floor, hurriedly trying to make your way across the bullpen and to your new boss’s office like requested.

You had crossed the bullpen with seemingly no problem and you were just about to step onto the stairs when a familiar call of your name had your blood running cold.

“Y/N?” A pit settled in your stomach, dark and cold and full of horrible feelings when Spencer’s voice hit your ears. You swallowed. You turned your head slowly, like you were expecting him to disappear before you looked fully behind you.

But no luck. There he was, in all his glory. Although, he looked very different to the last time you had seen him. He seemed to have ditched his old cardigans and sweaters for tailored suits. His hair was longer, messier, and stubble grew across his face.

Unfortunately for you, he looked even hotter than before.

And even though he looked so different, so unlike the sweet and dorky Spencer you used to date, now looking more like the gruff FBI agent he truly was, there was still a softness to his deep brown eyes that told you this was the same old Spencer Reid you couldn’t get your mind off of.

“Spencer,” you sighed. God, why did he have to be so beautiful still? “What are you doing here?”

“I work here,” he said with a raise of his eyebrow. Mentally you cursed yourself. How could you possibly forget? You were too starstruck to even think properly in that moment. “What are you doing here?”

“I also work here.” You shifted uncomfortably on your feet. You watched his gaze flit up and down your body and suddenly you were too well aware of your outfit choices when he lingered on your thighs. You should have just worn pants, but no, you wanted to look cute for your first day.

For a moment, the two of you could only stare at each other in silence. What could you possibly say after your last interaction being a shitty breakup? And just as you were about to say something, another voice cut in.

“Y/N!” Emily called out cheerfully. A sense of relief washed over you at the sight of her, your whole body relaxing. You nodded your head at her, bending slightly at the knees to give a half-assed bow.

“Emily,” you murmured. You held out the envelope and cup of coffee to her, giving a little smile when she took them into her own hands.

Emily’s attention turned to Spencer and you were almost certain there was some hint of smugness in her eyes. “I see you’ve met my new assistant,” she said with a hand falling to your back, giving it a soft pat. Spencer’s eyes narrowed.

His fingers curled tighter around the satchel slung across his body and you noticed a flicker of something - anger? jealousy? - in his eyes. “I have met her,” was all he said, his tone suddenly turning very curt.

You didn’t know what they were doing, what sort of mind games they were playing, and you weren’t sure how to feel about being a pawn caught in between it all. The air was thick, tense, nearly electric. Like they were two live wires waiting for a spark. You could feel the prickle of the hair on the back of your neck standing on end.

You cleared your throat, running your hand down the front of your skirt to rid yourself of your sweaty palms. “I, uh. I’m gonna.. go get some more case files that need to be sorted.” The minute the words left your mouth, you were already making a beeline to simply get out of there.

The rest of the day seemed to move by fairly smoothly. No more incidents between Spencer and Emily (to your knowledge) and you didn’t have to see Spencer again. A perfect day in your book.

You were actually almost finished with the day. You only had a few cases to be printed and sorted away, and then you were free to leave. Most had already left for the day, leaving the office vacant and eerily quiet. You didn’t mind it, though. Sometimes that was better, no distractions from finishing up the last few things before you clocked out.

You stood at the coping machine, your back to the door, when you heard it creak open. You didn’t think much of it, it was a busy office, after all, and plenty of people used the copier room. You didn’t even think to look behind you to see who it was. Your mind was one track at this point, just looking to finish your tasks and go home.

You should have known better.

You knew it was too late when you felt a broad chest being pressed to your back. A warm breath fanned over your ear as large hands that you knew too well roamed your sides. It was pure instinct the way your body melted into his touch, a sigh full of wanton desires wafting from your lips.

You felt weak. You were weak. In that moment, you were nothing more than a mammal with the primal need to procreate.

Your head fell to the side, leaning back to rest on Spencer’s shoulder, baring your neck to him, submitting to him like the weak little thing you both knew you were. God, you were really going to hate yourself when this was all over. You were already starting to feel that bubble of anger and hatred forming in your chest, creeping up your throat and burning like bile in your mouth.

Your hands snapped over his, stilling his movements. His lips hovered over your neck, mere inches from your pulse point. “You are such a prick,” you bit out. You sounded breathless, needy.

You tugged at his fingers, trying to pry them off your body. You spun in his arms, turning to face him. His pupils were dilated, swallowing his irises whole and making them more akin to black holes than the warm brown eyes you used to love. His hair was a mess, like he had been running his fingers through it too many times, his tie askew. Your eyes narrowed.

“You must have something wrong with you if you think I’m going to sleep with you after what you put through,” you hissed at him. You pressed yourself against the copier machine, trying to create some semblance of distance between the two of you, and crossed your arms tight over your chest.

“After what I put you through?” Spencer echoed almost incredulously. He had to be playing dumb, because you knew he was the farthest thing from stupid.

You scoffed. “You broke up with me with some lame ass excuse, and then you never bothered to talk to me again!” You could not believe him in that moment. It was like he was purposefully trying to piss you off.

“Y/N-”

“Do not “Y/N” me,” you spit out like the words were venom in your mouth. “I am not your girlfriend, and just because I now work at the BAU too doesn’t mea-”

Spencer’s lips were crashing against yours before you could even finish your sentence. He always kissed like a man starved, like he was trying to consume you whole. You whimpered against his mouth, hands flying to grasp onto his wrists while his hands cradled your face.

The kiss grew even more passionate, somehow, becoming a mashing of lips and teeth and breathless moans and animalistic growls. You missed this - missed the intense fire Spencer lit in you, the passion that he brought into everything he did.

His hands flew down to the hem of your skirt, quickly hitching it up as you both stumbled around the room, barely breaking your kissing to catch your breaths. He hooked his hands under your thighs, hoisting you up onto a nearby table. You instantly spread your legs, inviting him in without so much another thought. He quickly shed his suit jacket, tossing it aside to some random part of the room.

Then you heard a distinct rip of fabric. You pulled away from Spencer’s addictive lips, pressing your hands on his chest and forcing him to let in some room between the two of you. You glanced down to see a huge tear on your tights and you gasped.

“You ripped my tights?!” you shrieked, landing a smack to his chest.

“Keep it up, and I’ll rip your panties, too,” he growled and you hated that the deep timbre of his voice sent flashes of arousal straight to your core. He didn’t miss the way you clenched your thighs together. He weaved a hand into your hair and curled his fingers around the strands of your hair, giving it a good tug to force you to bear your neck to him once more.

He pressed wet and sloppy kisses to the junctions of your neck, nipping at the neck, making you gasp and squirm. He pushed your panties to the side, not bothering to even pull them halfway. He plunged two fingers in, knowing you could handle it. You gasped even louder when he filled you so suddenly, your back arching into the feeling.

“You’re so wet for me,” Spencer murmured against your sweaty skin. The thrust of his fingers were hard, fast, making your head spin with arousal. You couldn’t remember the last time you had sex, let alone sex this hedonistic, but god, were you loving it. His fingers were so long, hitting all the right places in you without even trying. “You missed me, didn’t you?”

You hated profilers, and you especially hated Spencer Reid. “Screw you,” you hissed. You didn’t even notice when his hand seemed to have fallen to your ass, but you definitely felt the hard smack of it connecting with your flesh.

“What do you think I’m trying to do, princess?” He punctuated his words with another hard swat to your ass and a nip to the neck. You moaned at both sensations, grinding into the fingers deep inside you. “I don’t remember you being such a brat when we dated..”

“I don’t remember you being such an asshole,” you retorted. Another smack, another gasp from you. You glared at him.

Spencer’s fingers picked up pace, moving in and out of you in an almost messy and uncoordinated fashion, his thumb rubbing fast circles on your clit. The sloppy sounds of his fingers thrusting and your moans filled the air, creating a dizzying erotic symphony.

“You never answered my question,” he breathed out. He moved his lips to your ear, teeth grazing along the shell. “Did you miss me?”

“No,” you lied right through your teeth and you both knew it. He delivered another spank to your ass, making you squeak at how sensitive you apparently becoming with his spankings.

“There’s no need to lie.” He bit down on your earlobe and you keened right as his fingers angled perfectly to hit your G-spot. He pulled back to look you in the eye, smirking at the sight of you unraveling under his fingers. “You missed me, and you missed my dick, like the stupid little slut you are.”

The Spencer you used to know, the man you loved, would have never called you any sort of name, not even bed. Hearing that word tumbling out of his lips had you clenching hard around his fingers and whining loud, eyes squeezing shut as your stomach twisted into knots.

“Admit it, Y/N,” he whispered in a husky voice, “Admit you missed me fucking you.”

“Fuck you.” More smacks to the ass. Three in the row this time, not even giving you time to recover. Each was harder than the less, leaving your skin tingling.

Spencer retracted his fingers from your messy cunt, making you whine at the loss of feeling full for the first time in far too long. “Open,” he commanded and you obeyed, much to your own disgust. His finger plunged into your mouth and you wrapped your lips around them without another word.

You licked them clean, tasting yourself, all the while maintaining eye contact with his intense stare. He pulled his fingers out from your mouth as fast as he did with your cunt. He cupped your cheek in his palm, gently caressing your supple skin. Then he delivered a hard smack to your cheek.

Your head snapped to the right and you gasped, hand automatically flying to your stinging cheek. You couldn’t believe him. And you couldn’t believe yourself for getting even wetter from it all.

Before you could react any further, his hand was tangling back in your hair, pulling harshly to drag you to your knees. He made quick work of his belt and unbuttoned his pants, fishing his hard dick out of its confines. Your mouth watered at the sight. It was so big, so pretty with its pale pink head and veins trailing along the sides.

Spencer chuckled at the hungry look in your eyes. “You missed this, didn’t you, baby?” he cooed at you. You found yourself nodding your head. He wrapped a hand around his cock, giving it a few lazy tugs. His thumb swiped at the tip, smearing the pre-cum gathering with a soft hiss.

He hovered it over your lips, teasing you. And in that moment, you weren’t above whining, which is exactly what you did. “Poor baby missed choking on my big dick, didn’t she?” Fake sympathy dripped from his words, making you feel oh-so dizzy and small. You nodded your head again, more frantically and desperate this time.

“Go ahead,” he urged, reaching a hand to the back of your head and pushing you forward, “Suck it, pretty girl.”

You didn’t need to be told twice. You braced your palms on his thighs as you stuck your tongue out, flickering it over the tip of Spencer’s cock. His fingers carded through your hair and you nearly melted.

You licked a broad stride along the underside of his dick and you shivered at the groan you earned in response. You took the tip into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks around him as you made your way down his cock.

“Fuck,” Spencer breathed out. His eyes fluttered shut, hips involuntarily rocking into your throat. He’d never admit it himself, but nothing could compare to your sweet mouth. He had spent more than a few countless nights dreaming about it wrapped around him once more.

You took his little curse and movements as encouragement, swallowing even more of him. You could never quite fit the entirety of him in your mouth, but it never stopped you from trying.

Spencer took a fistful of your locks in his hand, tugging hard at the strands, and you winced at the pain radiating from your scalp. Lust flared down your spine, electrifying your body as he forced his cock all the way in your mouth. You choked around the intruding object in your throat, contracting around him and making him moan.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” he crooned. His other hand cupped your face, thumb stroking your cheek as your eyes watered. He brushed away a tear that spilled down with a grin full of sadistic glee. “You look so pretty like this.. Your mouth has better uses than being a brat, don’t you think, pretty girl?”

He pulled you off his cock, leaving you to gag and heave heavy breaths. He clicked his tongue, faux pouting down at you. “Can’t handle it?” He didn’t give you any time to respond before he was pulling back down on his dick, pushing your head down until his pubes tickled your nose. “That’s too fucking bad.”

He repeated his motions, thrusting into your mouth violently until you got that dazed look in your eyes. Drool spilled from the corners of your lips and all over his cock. Praises from his lips, creating a chorus between his groans and moans of pure pleasure.

When you felt like you were seriously going to lose your mind from lack of oxygen, Spencer pulled out finally. You panted, dizzy and delirious, but so fucking horny. You whimpered when he guided you away from his dick, your bottom lip sticking out in a genuine pout.

He spun you around before you bending over the same table from earlier. You gasped, a sense of excitement bubbling in your stomach when you realized what was to come. His hands fell to your hips and you pushed your ass back against him, wiggling it with a pitiful whine. You glanced back at him over your shoulder and you were sure that you looked like some sort of pathetic slut, but you couldn’t even bring yourself to care.

“Someone’s eager,” Spencer remarked with a chuckle. But he was just as ready to screw your brains out.

He guided his cock to your soaking wet folds, taking a moment to smear your wetness around with his tip, up until you started whining again. He chuckled once more before finally entering you.

Your jaw fell slack as his cock entered you, stretching you to your limits. He was so fucking big, stretching you so deliciously and filling you up in a ways that couldn’t possibly be replicated.

“There you go,” Spencer murmured. He leaned forward, pressing his chest to your back firmly. “That’s what you’ve been craving, haven’t you, princess? Just needed some dick to turn your pretty little brain off.”

His hand snaked around to wrap his fingers around your throat. Not squeezing, rather just resting there, reminding you of your place, of his power over you. He continued to push until he bottomed out inside you and you both keened. How could you have ever broken up when you fit together so perfectly?

“You’re so fuckin’ tight, baby,” he hissed right into your ear. “Your pretty pussy definitely missed me, didn’t it?” His other hand landed on your ass once more and he delivered a hard smack on the available skin. “Squeezing me so good, sweetheart, such a good fuckin’ girl..”

He pulled back slightly, roughly halfway, before slamming into you hard enough to make the table slam against the wall. Then he repeated himself, one rough thrust after the other. You felt so braindead in that moment, gone in your own head with pleasure, that you could moan and babble.

“Feels so good, Spence,” you whined, trying to grind your hips back against him. “Fuck, it’s so good, so good, please don’t stop, please, please-” You cut yourself with a heady moan when he slammed into you with force.

“Cockdrunk whore,” Spencer hissed into your ear and you could only nod. His hand moved from your ass to tracing your labia before finding his target - your throbbing and neglected clit. He rubbed hard and fast circles around the swollen nub and you nearly sobbed.

His lips drifted to your neck and began peppering every inch of your skin in kisses. Some light, some sloppy and messy, nearly bruising with the force of them. Your head fell forward, hair falling all over your face and sticking to your sweaty skin. Tears brimmed in your eyes, threatening to spill down your flushed cheeks.

Then came Spencer’s teeth, grazing along your neck before biting down, hard. You squeaked, hands curling around the edge of the table until your knuckles turned white. Your cunt clenched, sucking him in even deeper. His groan rumbled deep in your chest.

“Taking me so fucking good, baby, such a good girl for me,” he mumbled against your skin. He picked up his thrusts, hips slamming hard against yours. The circles on your clit increased in their pace, as well, the coil in your stomach burning hot and heavy.

“Spencer,” you nearly shrieked. “Spencer, I’m gonna- Shit! I’m gonna cum, Spencer!”

“You gonna cum for me, pretty girl?” His words were nearly a growl, deep and low and so fucking sexy. “You gonna cum?” He landed a harsh slap against your pussy and you almost screamed once more.

Spencer pulled out suddenly, leaving just as empty as you were earlier. Your eyes shot wide open, whines tumbling from your lips, distraught at being denied your precious orgasm. He was spinning around you once more, crashing your lips together.

You moaned into the kiss, arms hurried wrapping around his broad shoulders. His hands fell to your thighs, lifting you up and into his arms, making you squeak. When did he get so.. strong?

You didn’t have much time to ponder over Spencer’s sudden display of strength because your back was practically tossed against a nearby wall. He pulled apart from the kiss to take his cock into his hand again, guiding it towards your dripping cunt again.

Your nails dug into his back as he stretched you open on his cock again, head falling back and hitting the wall. His lips were attached to your lips again, suckling and biting to leave behind millions of different marks.

“So big,” you slurred. Your voice sounded almost foreign to yourself - high-pitched and whiny. “Filling me so good, Spence, it’s so good.” Tears had begun to cascade down your face, streaking your mascara and leaving thick tracks of black on your cheeks. Spencer had never seen you look more beautiful than in that moment.

“You’re beautiful, Y/N,” he praised between heavy pants. “Taking me so good, so good, like the stupid fucking slut you are.” His hand made contact with your face again, leaving a red mark in its wake and leaving your skin feeling electric. Your walls squeezed around him.

“You like that, huh?” he did again and you moaned loudly, unashamed now. “You like being smacked around, huh? Like being treated like the filthy lil’ whore you are? Is that right, princess?” He repeated himself, smacking you once, twice, three times and each you clenched around him.

Your orgasmed barreled over you before you could have possibly processed it. Your eyes squeezed shut, stars popping in your vision, legs shaking. Your mouth fell open in a silent scream as pleasure washed over you in waves near akin to a tsunami in your body.

Spencer fell right over the edge right after you, teeth sinking down into your shoulder with a heavy groan. Sprouts of hot cum flooded your insides and you whined at the feeling of overstimulation washing over you.

You both stilled for a moment, basking in the afterglow of your orgasm, panting heavily together. Slowly, Spencer pulled out his softening cock out of you, and you whined for the final time at being so empty. Your cunt clenched around nothing for a few seconds before beginning to seep Spencer’s seed, dripping down your thigh and onto the carpet.

You felt a bit bad for the janitor who would have to clean up your messes.

Spencer grasped your chin between his forefinger and thumb, turning your head to look back at him. His lips met yours in another kiss, this time much softer and full of something you might describe as affection.

When you pulled apart, he smiled at you. “So good for me.” He was breathless, and you couldn’t blame him.

There was a beat of silence between the two of you again. Spencer cleared his throat before adding, “Did you, uh.. want a ride back to my place? I still have some of your clothes at my apartment, you could shower and change..” he trailed off, teeth catching his bottom lip. There was a hint of a pleading look in his eyes and your heart clenched at the sight. You could never say no to his puppy eyes.

“Only if you take me out to dinner after.”

“Deal.”

2K notes · View notes

karlachian · 6 months ago

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baldur's gate 3 wyll ravengard grand duke coronation tumblr simulator

🩸 bloodlover

he said WHAT about me

🦴 jonfromshop

i love <3 that we are livign in this day and age of baldurian politics. this is fucking awesome

2,235 notes

🪼 slenderweaver

TWENTY. FOUR.

#AND WHAT WAS I DOING AT TWENTY FOUR. FUCKALL!!!!!

6 notes

🪡 tailormadewares Follow

now why is the coronation happening in the middle of the night. some of us have jobs!

🐦‍⬛ ulderravengard Follow

the new duke consort is kind of like an evil stepmother but for the city

🦴 jonfromshop

AREN'T YOU SUPPOSED TO BE READING OUT THE GREAT LAWS RIGHT NOW LMFAOOOOOOOOOOOO

4,458 notes

🌊 tavalina

very extremely proud of one of my best friends in the whole world wyll ravengard. can't make it to the coronation because of the whole bein g stuck in hell with my wife thing can a sweet mutual please. keep me updated.

🐺 simfolicity Follow

duke consort astarion lastname has clearly micromanaged the whole thing and ulder ravengard and him might be trying to kill each other during the ceremony. wyll is just happy to be there i think

🌊 tavalina

oh okay so business as usual

🏹 highharper

business as usual

49 notes

💋 bladethatthang

why is NO ONE talking about the geopolitical ramifications of the future grand duke being engaged to marry a CLEARLY evil looking mean cunt of an elf. not to MENTION the problematic age gap.

🩸 bloodlover

mad because he's fucking me and not you????????

💋 bladethatthang

i genuinely wish we all had died with the elder brain

🪡 tailormadewares Follow

HERITAGE POST

#bringing this back for coronation day

38,493 notes

🪼 slenderweaver

i;m sorry. wyll ravengard is TWENTY FOUR YEARS OLD? HE SHOULD'VE BEEN AT THE ELFSONG

🛎️ i-live-in-the-dumbwaiter

quite famously he was at the elfsong. like i understand where you're coming from but that was a whole thing. he was very polite about ordering food at 3 in the morrow in the sense that he didn't. do that.

🪼 slenderweaver

oh so now we are fucking doing elfsong pedantics about the TWENTY FOUR YEAR OLD RUNNING OUR CITY.

348 notes

📦 zhentingthatrim Follow

this is so fucking stupid i WANTED to do a coup a mutiny an overthrowing even today during the coronation but no one wants to fucking do revolution anymore. you say can we PLEASE try and kill the new grand duke for trade opportunities and freedom of will. and then they will say well why would i want to do that. wyll ravengard is soooooooooo handsome and sweet and nice. trying to kill him would be RUDE. WE USED TO BE A FUCKING CITY.

🩸 bloodlover

bunk 42, flaming fist barracks, basilisk gate

📦 zhentingthatrim Follow

AYO?????

🔥 florricking Follow

open the door

8,376 notes

✨ princessofhousenightstar

do your required reading you little wretches and understand that i am here fundamentally to talk about wyll where he can't see it. i love the man but sometimes i like to keep things to myself. anyways doesn't he look sooooooo dashing in his coronation outfittttttttt 🥰 i made ittttttt

🪼 slenderweaver

does anyone remember when this was an embroidery blog

🏹 highharper

you are a strange strange little man astarion

#HOW has he not found this blog yet is the question i think

16 notes

🩸 bloodlover

i want ulder ravengard dead

🗡️ bladeoffrontiers

🩸 bloodlover

i want ulder ravengard mildly inconvenienced

🐦‍⬛ ulderravengard Follow

we are literally tumblr mutuals. for your evil and nefarious purposes no doubt.

🪡 tailormadewares Follow

we're all going to fucking die

6,459 notes

🦴 jonfromshop

the grand duke isn't an option because he always sweeps.

#wyllstarion #wyll ravengard #astarion #bg3 #jaheira #ulder ravengard #thank you. for allowing me to take you here with me.

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sanguineterrain · 1 year ago

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Feel like I’m so basic but Jason Todd with a crush and him having zero social skills and just being super clumsy despite being highly competent when he’s in the field. Crush is like real sweet and kind maybe a service worker ✨

anon u are so true and real for this bc jason is definitely an unsocialized cat when he has a crush 💓

jason todd x gn!reader. shyish/anxious jason with a big fat crush. baker reader. annoying customer. the duality of jason todd. 1.6k words.

also i fully believe that silently leaving huge tips as a way to flirt is like. a wayne trait. 100% that family does that bc of bruce.

prompt lists are here! i reblog all fics to @sanguinelibrary

****

Business has been slow.

It's not like you expect your cafe to be packed to the rafters all day long, but you've had a grand total of four customers today. One of them only came in to ask where Starbucks was.

Frankly, you're not sure the cafe can afford to stay afloat for much longer. Gotham isn't known to preserve small businesses, and the conglomerates (cough, Wayne Enterprises) are taking over the world anyway.

So today is a reading day. You might even close early.

You're at a table in the back, so absorbed in Poirot's sleuthing that you don't hear the door open. It isn't until you turn the page and look up that you see your resident lurker waiting quietly at the display case. You flinch so hard that you spill iced tea on your jeans.

"Shit," you murmur, grabbing a wad of napkins and patting yourself dry.

Jason (as is written on his coffee cup) looks up from the pastries, teal eyes wide. You smile briefly at him. For such a big guy, his footsteps are astonishingly soft.

"Is everything okay?" he asks, voice rough like he doesn't speak much.

"Yeah, fine. You just startled me—I didn't hear you come in. Were you waiting long? Sorry about that."

"Oh. No, I wasn't. Sorry." He shifts weight between his feet. "You seemed pretty engrossed in your book. I didn't, uh, want to disturb you."

"Oh, hey, don't worry about that! It's literally my job to be here," you say, though you can't help but melt over how freaking sweet that is.

Jason visits you a minimum of twice a week. He's been coming for a couple of weeks. You know a whole three things about him: he's a university student, he pretty much only dresses in red or black, and he's unfairly cute.

At first, you were reasonably wary of him because it's Gotham, and he's so damn quiet. It's a little scary. You thought maybe he was an undercover spy casing the joint. Now you know he's just awkward.

"Slow day?" he asks.

"Slow year, more like. How are you? How was your exam?"

He blinks. "Exam?"

"Didn't you have an American lit exam last week?"

"Oh. Uh, yeah. Wow. Yes, I did. It was okay. Got an A."

"That's great! I knew you'd ace it."

His cheeks turn pink. Okay, you actually know four things about him: he blushes a lot.

You go to start the coffee machine. "Do you think you'll—"

"I-I have to go."

You watch, stunned, as he hurries out the door. That's when you notice the fifty dollar bill in your tip jar.

You don't know if you should bring up yesterday. Jason's back; that probably means everything's fine, right? You're not sure if you said something wrong, though. You've gone over the interaction a hundred times since and you can't figure out why he's so skittish around you.

"Hi. Hibiscus tea, please," he says, stoic as always.

You prepare his order, yesterday's interaction still fresh in your head. You should say something, shouldn't you? Or...

"Sorry about yesterday," Jason blurts, so fast you almost miss it. "Running out, I mean. I was, uh—I forgot something."

Well. Looks like he's going to bring it up for you.

"Oh, you don't have to apologize! If I said something wrong..."

Jason shakes his head fervently. "No, God no. You're perfect."

Your eyebrows shoot up. He turns red this time.

"I mean—not perf—well, you're amazing, don't get me wrong! Except, like, what is perfect, y'know? My brother has gotten into the habit of calling everything perfection like some kind of sitcom character. Alfred will make pie, and Dick'll go, "Alfie, that was perfection." And I feel like it's such an exaggeration—"

Jason's mouth snaps closed. He rubs his forehead.

"Um, I actually have chronic foot-in-mouth disease. It gets really, stupidly bad. Sorry."

You're trying hard not to giggle. You want to smother him in frosting and take a bite.

"You're really sweet, you know that?" you say.

"I'm really not," he says with a sigh.

"Not true. Can you do me a favor?"

"Anything."

You go into the kitchen and return with your latest experiment: matcha cream puffs.

"Do you mind trying these for me? You're not allergic to anything, are you?"

Jason's shoulders hunch. "Are you sure you want my opinion?"

"Of course I'm sure," you say happily. "I trust you."

"You trust me," he repeats quietly.

"Yup!"

Jason takes a puff and bites. He starts to nod.

"It's really good. You're really—all your creations are—yeah. It's good."

You squint. "No notes? Really?"

"They're perfection, as my brother would say."

Fuck, you like him so much.

"Have another one," you say, pushing the tray towards him.

"I shouldn't—"

"Wait! I'll pack you some!" you interrupt, flitting back to the kitchen to get a Tupperware.

Jason helplessly accepts the container of puffs you shove into his hands.

"Let me pay-" he tries to say, but you shake your head.

"Nope! I won't accept payment for these. Not from my favorite customer."

"Your favorite?"

"My favorite," you confirm, grinning.

"Oh." His ears turn pink as he walks to the door, cream puffs in hand. "Uh, right. Thanks. See you tomorrow."

"Jason? Don't you want your tea?"

"Shit. Yeah." He returns to the counter and takes his drink. This he insists on paying for, so you let him, because you do have rent to pay, after all.

"So nice to see you!" you add, because the stiffness in his gait is kind of throwing you off.

He just nods, slipping out the door as quietly as he came.

Today, Jason's in a red workout tank. You have to make the conscious effort to not ogle his arms.

"Hey, Jason!" you say cheerily.

"Hi," he says softly.

"The usual?" you ask, and he looks up in surprise.

"You know my order?"

You gently roll your eyes. "Of course I know your order, silly. Favorite customer, remember?"

"Oh." He looks away, brow furrowed. Then he turns to you and his expression smooths over. "Yes, please. Thanks."

"Sure. Give me one second? I just have to finish decorating some sugar cookies."

"Take your time," Jason says, then goes to skulk by the window.

The door is suddenly swung harder than necessary, thumping the glass.

"Hey!"

You look up from the cookies. A man in a suit is waving his phone impatiently.

"I ordered a dozen muffins. Where are they, huh?" he demands.

"Oh, right! Well, you called ten minutes ago, so they won't be ready till six, sir. Can I get you something while you wait?"

He scoffs and stomps to the counter. You almost back down, but you don't; that's exactly what these bullies want.

"This is exactly why no one eats at dinky cafes like yours. You can't even do this!" he fumes, shoving a finger in your face.

"Sir, like I said, the muffins are baking..."

"I know the city's health inspector personally," the man spits viciously. "One call, and I can—"

"Say one more word."

You blink as Jason is suddenly between you and the customer, stood at his full height. He's all muscle and broad shoulders, looming over the guy. You peek around him.

"What the fuck, man?" the angry customer squawks. "Move!"

"No, you move," Jason says, tone lethal. "Sit quietly at a table and wait for your muffins to bake. Then you can thank the nice baker for waiting on your sorry ass and you're not gonna come back. They have far more patience for entitled fucks than I do."

"Fuck you," the man spits.

Jason calmly closes the distance between them and whispers in his ear, hand like a vice around the jerk's shoulder. You watch as he turns pale, eyes growing wider.

"Sound good?" Jason asks pleasantly, all teeth. The man gapes at him.

Wow. Yeah. This is really doing something for you.

The oven dings. You go to retrieve the muffins, packing them as quickly as possible. You give him the box and the man nods.

"Thanks," he mumbles, then scurries out of the store.

Jason turns to you, and it's like looking at a completely different person.

"You okay?" he asks, posture stiff like he's still prepared for a fight.

You nod, a little dazed.

"Yeah. Wow. Jason, I... you didn't have to do that. I mean, thank you for doing it, but..."

"Hey, that guy was a jackass. And if you have trouble with him or anyone else, call me, okay?"

This side of him stuns you. If you didn't know better, you'd think he had this exchange regularly.

"Call you?" you ask, smiling. "How will I call you if I don't have your number?"

He freezes, eyes wide. "Oh. Uh. Um..."

You lean over, elbows on your counter. He watches you. You cup your hand around your mouth, pretending to divulge a secret.

"This is where you, the cute guy who frequents my struggling cafe, gives me your number."

"You think I'm cute?" he asks.

"Devastatingly so," you say, grinning.

He's quiet for a long moment. Your smile starts to dim.

"Did I read this wrong?" you ask. "If I came off too strong..."

"No!" he says a little too loud. Jason winces. "Sorry. No. I... you're... fuck, I'm not good at this. I don't even really drink tea or coffee, to be honest. I just come in to see you."

"You do?"

Jason sighs. "Yeah. Shit. That's creepy, isn't it?"

You laugh and he visibly softens.

"No, Jason," you say warmly. "It's sweet."

"So can I still ask you on a proper date? Not coffee."

You grin. "That would be perfection."

#jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd x y/n #red hood x reader #red hood x you #red hood x y/n #batman fanfiction #red hood fanfiction #jason todd fanfiction #coffee shop au #bakery au #dc fanfiction #inbox #blurb

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itryhardtomakethishouseahome · 1 year ago

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Arcane Characters saying I love you Pt2

~ Silco, Sevika, and Vander

A/n sorry this one's a little longer than pt 1, also reblogs are much appreciated✨🫶🏼

word count 1.8k pt 1 here

First time saying i love you pt 2

silco, sevika, vander

Silco~

‘It’s too quiet’ you thought, lounging in Silco's office on the sofa Sevika basically claimed as hers. The silence almost made you nervous mostly because it never was. The atmosphere was always filled with the sound of sevika working on her arm, faint explosions echoing from Jinx's lab, silco’s meetings, jinx yapping about her new inventions or arguing with Sevika, or even fin’s disgusting attempts to flirt with you while you catch Silco and Sevika rolling their eyes over his shoulder. Like clockwork, the tedious silence was broken by Silco barging through the door followed by Sevika.

“She’s a problem and we all know it!” Sevika seethed. You figured that they were either too angry to notice you or too angry to care.

Silco brushed his hair back and turned his head to look over his shoulder. “We?” You wanted to intervene but know that given the fact that 1. they’re both stubborn and 2. Sevika’s stature and gaze alone intimidate the hell out of you, it’d be useless but nonetheless you definitely piece together that it’s about jinx.

“Look,” Sevika took a deep breath, “I know you have a thing for strays and she means a lot to you but she is not your daughter. There is an entire city that relies on you and you’re doing nothing but making excuses for some unhinged kid. Even if you were her father you should know when to keep her in check instead of letting her be a loose cannon and put everything we’ve worked for in jeopardy. If you aren't going to choose between parenting her or acting like her boss, send her to the enforcers.” With that Sevika walked out slamming the door behind her. You definitely understood her anger and everything she was saying but Silco was trying. Granted he could be trying harder but for the life he’s lived he was doing all he could without being cold towards jinx. He COULD turn her in but everything she’s done she was told to do by him, he COULD abandon her and perfect everything he’s built but he knows what it’s like and he’s grown too attached. He was at a loss and you could see it in the ways his shoulders dropped yet looked so tense.

Sighing, Silco finally decides to acknowledge your presence. “Tell me my dear,” he said, hunched over his desk, “what do I do?” You stood up and walked over to him, gently ushering him to face you. It hurt you to see him like this, unraveled by his daughter and right hand. You take his face in your hands and he immediately sinks into your touch with glossy eyes. “Tell me how to parent her. Tell me how to be better.” he begs.

“My heart, you don’t need to be better. You’ve told her countless times to take things more seriously. Her not doing so is entirely on her, not you.” You tried your best to reassure him. “I’d suggest telling her that unless she shapes up she won't be allowed on more serious jobs but knowing her she’d throw a fit and go against you anyways.” Finally Silco cracks a smile and scoffs.

“That does sound like her, suppose my stubbornness has rubbed off on her.” he says, taking your hands in his and staring deeply and lovingly into your eyes.

“So be more stern with her, is what you’re implying?” he stated more so than asked, taking you in his arms. “Mhm.” you hummed.

“I'll give it a try, thank you my dear.”

“Of course, eventually she’ll listen. She just needs to learn that there are reasons why you tell her not to go all out. You’re a great father, you know.” He swears his heart skipped a beat.

“...I love you…” Silco whispers, holding you tighter. “I love you more.”

Sevika~

You and Sevika both work for Silco, you have since the start of his reign, and you both quickly learned how tiring and physically demanding it was. However, some days were worse than others today being a prime example for Sevika at least. You had to take care of some petty thieves in one of Silco’s stash houses that Fin had secretly hired but regardless you got to go home early and are now relaxing in your shared bed. Eventually you dozed off but got woken up by the sound of Sevika opening the bedroom door.

“Oh hey, sorry doll,” she gently kisses your temple. “Didn’t know you went home early.” she mumbles, taking her shoes off and throwing them across the room.

“Yeah because I’m lucky” you say with a smirk. Sevika lazily smacks your thigh earning a giggle as she plops next to you sinking her face into the pillow. “Lucky brat is what you are. Why’d you leave early anyway?”

“I finished my task quickly and was gonna wait for you but Silco said that jinx was with you,” Sevika groans at the name of her tiny nemesis earning a giggle from you. She then turns her head ushering you to go on while she starts caressing your jaw. “And that you’d most likely take a while so he sent me home.” she hummed in response. She didn’t say anything else, continuing to only lay on her stomach with her head turned to you, running her fingers down your jaw then suddenly shutting her eyes and jerking her hand.

“What's wrong? Did you get hurt?” You ask, sitting up immediately inspecting her for injuries noticing how she didn't move at all to calm you down.

“Nothin my backs just sore…” Sevika groaned. You could tell it was more than just her back, it was her shoulder blades and arm. Sighing, you got up and gently started removing her shirt.

“Angel I'm too tir-”

“Get your mind out of the gutter Vika I'm not gonna ravage you I just wanna give you a massage.” She utters a quick ‘oh’ before sliding out of her shirt then resuming her previous position.

“As if you could ever ravage me.” she scoffs. Ignoring her, you grab some lotion from the nightstand and take a seat on her butt. You apply the lotion to your hands before putting some pressure on her lower back deciding you’ll save the problem spots for last. Judging by how tense she is and how she groans you get the idea that she was long overdue for a good massage.

Once you clear all the knots and tension from her lower and mid back you focus your attention on the spot in between her shoulder blades, gently pushing down then dragging your hands around her shoulders hearing various pops, cracks, groans, and moans coming from her. There really isn’t anything you can do about the pain from the arm she no longer has other than press ginger kisses around the area. As she feels your weight shift from her backside to the bed she turns to face you once more, taking you in her arms and engulfing you in a passionate kiss.

“Y’know I'm gonna marry you one day right angel?” she playfully questions.

“Only seems fair,” you start, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear. “You already got acting like one.” she smiles, remembering everything you’ve done for her, especially when she lost her arm. You were always right there when she needed you but was too stubborn to ask for help, you were always at her beck and call.

“Oh please, it's ‘cause you love me… and I love you…so much.”

Vander~

You knew that when you started dating Vander that the kids would have to be in your life too and honestly you loved it. You would always bring them gifts like boxing gloves for Vi, trinkets and tools for Mylo and Powder, and snacks for Claggor. Anytime Vander would tell them not to do something they’d immediately run to you begging you to change his mind and sometimes it worked sometimes it didn’t. Today being one of the days it didn’t.

You were relaxing at the empty bar when Vi barged yelling about how something wasn’t fair while Vander trailed her. Vi spotted you and ran to your side.

“Y/n please tell him that we’re ready.” She begged without any context as to what she was talking about.

“What's happening?” you ask, lost as ever.

“Apparently the enforcers are turning the lanes upside down looking for us but this is our chance to fight! We need to stand up to them and now’s as good a time as any.” Vi explained. You assumed vander wasn’t having any of it given the fact that 1. the kids’ safety was everything to him and 2. he had an arrangement with the enforcers.

“There’s too much at risk if we do Violet! You need to stop thinking with these,” Vander says, grabbing her fists. “And start thinking with this!” he then points to her head. “The lanes isn't what it used to be. Yes we all still have the same drive as we did back then, but we’re not in the same shape as we used to be! We lost a lot of good people then and we’d lose even more now.” Violet thinks of her parents which Vander can see in her eyes. “You’ll lose powder, claggor, and Mylo too. We will rise Violet I promise you we will but now is not our time, there's too much at stake.” Vander looks to you for help and so does Vi. You love the kids but this is one thing that Vander would not change his mind about and to be frank you agree with him.

“I'm sorry Vi but he’s right honey” you take her face in your hands trying to get her to see how sincere you are. “A shadow of the lanes would be all that’s left. And I don’t wanna lose you guys.”

“...fine.” Violet mumbles before running off, leaving you and Vander alone. Vander walks over to you pulling you in for a hug.

“You really care about those kids huh?” He questions.

“Of course I do, I get that they want to fight but I wish she would see how badly this would end for us. It would end in a fiery blaze with everyone we love slaughtered.” You notice some blue hair peeking out from behind the wall and instantly know who it is.

“You can come out Powpow, is everything okay?” Vander turns around to face her as she takes a few steps towards you. She looked really sad, her eyes were puffy and she was holding what looked like a stuffed bunny. Vander stares at it thinking it looked familiar then it hit him.

“Look at me Powder,” he kneels in front of her, gently holding her shoulders. “Where did she go?”

“She said she was going to make things right and that she’d be away for a while.” the little girl sniffles. Vander stands up immediately and walks to you.

“I need you to stay here with the kids. I need to go get Violet.” he leans down and kisses you deeply before pulling away to head towards the door.

“I love you.”

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macfrog · 2 years ago

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ride it, cowgirl cowboy like me chapter ten

hey dudes. anyone up for some dbf? i seriously can't thank you guys enough for all the love y'all show this series. blows my mind every time. i have been super excited for this chapter for a WHILE. might be my fave so far. who knows. you can grab chapters 1-9 on my masterlist and also my ao3 if ur feeling fancy. love u all sm!!!!!! ✨💘💫

pairing: dbf!joel x fem!reader

summary: joel picks you up from a girls’ night. you’ve plans for when you get home

warnings: 18+ (minors dni!!!) reader isn't an astrology girlie (sorry), more pining beCAUSE, alcohol consumption + a mention of the devil’s lettuce, very quick bit of unwanted touching, even quicker bit of protective joel, soft!joel, softdom!joel, one tiny mention of daddy, protected piv sex this time (feeling conservative slutty max will return), reader rides him into the sunset, age gap (reader is 23, joel is 48), cursing

word count: 6.7k

series masterlist | main masterlist | playlist

You lazily drag yourself over and over Joel’s dick, each stroke drawing you nearer and nearer to your high. When your body starts to falter, you feel him shift, and open your eyes to see him leaning over to the nightstand. His fingers grip the rim of the black cowgirl hat you’d worn that night. He lies back, flat against the mattress, and reaches up, placing the hat on top of your head. You smile. Joel speaks in a low, gentle, but commanding whisper. “There you go, cowgirl. Show me how it’s done.”

You never believed much in the power of the universe. Astrology, moons, manifestation. Whatever. None of it ever really meant much to you. You knew your star sign, knew which cool little symbol resembled you, and that was about it. Everything past that was…confusing and, frankly, a little overwhelming.

However.

If the universe were to send you a sign, one huge, fluorescent, multi-colored, in-your-face sign, that it was on your side…this weekend might just be it.

Your dad’s downstairs, finishing up packing for his work trip. His departure is imminent. Sarah’s been in Nashville since last night. A series of texts she sent you at 3AM riddled with spelling errors and heart emojis tell you she’s been having a pretty good time so far.

You are Joel are…alone. All by yourselves. For a whole…twenty hours.

Can’t have it all, I guess.

Your eyes skim down the texts you sent him this morning, texts he is yet to reply to.

You: Merry Christmas!!!

You took his non-reply for confusion – he is almost fifty, maybe he doesn’t get the joke? It’s a pretty lame joke, anyways. Very lame. If your thumb hovers over the send button before you press it, it’s probably not that great a joke. And your thumb had most definitely hovered. So, you’d followed it up.

You: As in, today’s the day

You: I don’t mean it’s actually Christmas

You: I mean like, happy ‘we’re finally gonna be alone again’ day

You: Never mind

“Hello?” Anna’s voice cuts through your train of thought. “Are you even listening to me?”

You drop your phone, shaking your head clear of Joel. “Yep. Sorry. Just didn’t catch that last part. You froze.”

The image of her on your – pretty fucking dusty – laptop screen rolls its eyes, knowing you’re lying. “I don’t know whether to go with the pink or the black boots,” she says.

“Ain’t your dress yellow?”

Her head falls into her hands. She throws herself down onto her bed and slides her laptop closer. “That was, like, ten minutes ago. I’m goin’ with the pink strappy one now.”

“Pink does say rodeo.”

“Fuck you,” she snaps through a giggle. “Remind me what you’re wearin’, again.”

“Black hat, black boots, black dress.”

“You’re so boring.”

“Thanks. Really looking forward to our night out.”

Anna snorts and then stands back up, strides over to her closet and resumes rummaging. “Black jacket, too?” she calls over her shoulder.

“Uhuh,” you reply, glancing back down to your phone. “Although – it has rhinestones. And tassels. Not so boring after all, huh?”

Anna’s silence drags your eyes from the text thread back to your laptop screen. She’s frozen in place, twisted around with a dress in her hands, jaw on the floor. “Show it to me. Now.”

“Hold on,” you roll over and off your bed, your shoulder stiff from the position you’d been lying in, “I think I left it downstairs.”

“Tell your dad I say hey!”

You pad down the carpeted stairs in your socks, toward the sunlit hallway.

“Dad, have you seen my– Oh, fuck.”

As you round the corner at the bottom of the stairs, glancing over your left shoulder to the front door, your chest knocks into something hard. Steady. Strong.

Something you recognize the feel of before you’ve given him a proper look.

“Mind your step, baby,” Joel says, and your heart leaps.

“What the fuck are you doin’ here?” you whisper, peering around his body to look for your dad.

“He’s out front,” Joel tells you, then takes your shoulder and reels you in against his chest. “’m just here to help ‘im with his GPS.”

He plants a kiss on the top of your head and gives you a squeeze. Your head rests safely on his chest, arms link at his back. If you didn’t have plans tonight, and if your dad wasn’t, like, ten feet from you guys right now, you’d never let him go. Just follow him around, vice grip around his waist, surrounded by the smell and feel of him.

Not that that means anything. You’d do other stuff, too. You’re not…you know.

Your dad’s voice streams in through the open door and Joel releases you.

“It ain’t for workin’, Joel, I’m about to throw it at the f– Hey, kiddo.”

“Hey. What’s the matter with your GPS?”

You lean in to the tiny device in his hands. Joel’s elbow comes up to rest on your shoulder.

“Just won’t connect to the car. Every time I plug it in, it just…” He lifts his hands, screen loose in his fingers, and hands you a bewildered look.

You look at him, expressionless. “Why don’t you just use your phone?”

“Because I paid almost a hundred bucks for this thing, and I’ll be damned if I’m– Alright,” he stops himself, eyes shutting in exasperation, “I already explained this to him. I ain’t justifyin’ myself to the two of you.”

Joel’s laughing behind his hand, pretending to scratch his nose when your dad stalks off to the kitchen and throws the device down, snatching the instructions off the table.

The pair of you follow, both still trying to swallow your laughter. Joel wanders around the table and sits down beside your dad, fumbling with the screen. You dive into the coat closet at the bottom of the stairs and fish out your bejeweled, tasseled jacket.

“You lookin’ forward to your girls’ night?” Joel asks, eyes flitting up and down the leather jacket in your hands.

“Mhm,” you reply, opening your mouth to continue when your dad butts in.

“S’posed to be a girls’ night, but that boy Sam’s crashin’ it, ain’t he?”

“Well, we asked him.” You shrug. “It’s his night off.”

Your dad scoffs, shaking his head to Joel, who looks up to you with a confused expression. “’s the big deal with that?”

“Oh, wise up, Miller. He’s only goin’ ‘cause of…” He wags a finger in your direction, and a smirk peels across Joel’s lips.

“Is he, now?”

“Uhuh,” your dad replies, intense stare still on the instructions in front of him. “Makes no damn sense. I plugged it in using the cable they gave me in the box. Stupid thing…”

You shake your head to Joel, who’s still looking at you, bemused. He knows you and Sam are just friends. Also knows your dad is the most oblivious theorist to walk the planet. Just aiming his gun at the wrong target, is all.

“I’m gonna let you two get back to…that,” you say, turning to head back upstairs. “Anna says hi, by the way.”

Your dad’s eyebrows rise once, his eyes never lifting from his GPS. “Hi, Anna.”

“Hey, Anna,” Joel echoes, smirk on his lips.

“Not to you,” you throw back, hopping up the first step. You hear his chuckle as you disappear.

----------

Anna’s reaction to your jacket in person matches that over Facetime: a deafening squeal. A squeal which she repeats almost every damn time she sees you throughout the night.

“So – fucking – cute!” she exclaims for the fifth time, fingers dancing through the tassels. “And it goes so well with your hat.”

You sip on your cocktail, nodding enthusiastically, pushing your eyebrows up underneath the brim of the black cowgirl hat on your head. Trying to match her energy. Your mind’s elsewhere.

Joel texted you a few hours ago. Told you to have a good night, said something about Sam, but you were stood right next to the dude, so you quickly locked your phone and slipped it back into your clutch.

Now, standing with your back against the wall of Franks, watching Sam play pool with Eve, you feel safe enough to read over the message.

Joel: Have fun baby. Be safe. Tell Sam good luck from me.

You squint at the screen, pulling it away from your face and leaning back in to read it over. Good luck? The fuck does he mean –

You: Good luck??

He replies almost instantly.

Joel: Yeah. Good luck winning you over. Took me, what, a week?

Oh, fuck off. You roll your eyes and throw your phone facedown onto the table where Anna and Kara sit, about twenty minutes deep into a conversation you missed the beginning of.

Your attention turns to the room before you – brick-walled, metal dome lightshades hanging over each pool table. Glass-paneled door to your left leading back through to the main bar. For being a tiny bar on a backstreet, Frank’s is pretty lively. There are bodies everywhere, bumping by each other, drunken arms slung over shoulders, hips swaying with the soft rock song blasting from out front.

You imagine your dad here with Joel, maybe Hank and Bill, too. Playing pool, beer bottles resting on the felt while they take their shot. Or sat on the rooftop, sipping on a whiskey. Talking about you and Sarah. What does Joel say about you when you’re not around?

And what does he want to say, but can’t, ‘cause it’s your dad? What does he think, and bite back when it bubbles to the surface?

Your straw gargles, slurping up the last few sips of your drink. You lean over to Anna and Kara, holding your empty glass up.

“Another?”

They both shake their heads, and you nod, turning on your own back to the bar.

You squeeze between two older women, both dressed smart and sharp. One of them – clutching a Manhattan – shifts out of the way as you pass.

“…one more conversation with him about squash,” she tells her companion, “and I am gonna blow my brains out…”

You edge over to the bar and slot into a free space, propping your elbows up on the wood. One of Sam’s coworkers – her name escapes you – notices you and shuffles over, smiling sweetly.

“How you doin’?” she asks, running a damp cloth inside a tumbler.

“Good,” you reply. “Could I just get a Bud, please?”

“Sure thing,” she says, and reaches behind to grab one. You slide her a note and she hands you change, and then you’re on your way back to the pool room.

As you slink by the two women, a weight knocks into your shoulder, almost sending your beer flying out of your hand.

“Sorry,” a rough voice sputters on your left, and you glance in its direction. Some broad dude in a tight t-shirt.

“’s fine,” you mumble, clutching your hat; a smell of weed choking your throat.

He passes by behind you, one hand lingering a little too long on your waist, and you saunter back over to Anna and Kara.

“That dude stinks, right?” Anna whispers behind a cupped hand, and you snort.

“He smells like he’s having a good night.”

“We’re talking about Romeo and Juliet over there. We’re basically third, fourth, and fifth wheeling,” Kara says, nodding over to Sam and Eve, who’re finished their game of pool and have now graduated to darts.

“I don’t…think that’s a thing.”

“Eve asked me if Sam was single earlier,” Anna says, lifting her straw to her red lips.

“What?” Kara spits out, choking on her drink. “Eve has a boyfriend!”

Anna giggles. “He’s kinda an ass, anyway. Look at them, they’re so sweet.”

“You say sweet, I hear morally wrong.”

“Who says it’s morally wrong?” you chirp, alcohol pushing the words over your lips before your brain’s had time to stop them. Your fingers clutch your phone, still laying on the table where you left it. “You?”

“Uh, it’s cheating, dude. What if Nick found out?”

“’s not that big a deal,” you reply, phone screen lighting your face in a blue hue, “they’re just having fun.”

Anna points to you, lifting her glass. “Here’s to havin’ fun, I guess.”

Kara lifts her own reluctantly and they clink, but you’re distracted. Already typing a message to Joel. Bored. Drunk. Morally wrong.

You: What you doing?

Joel: Watching TV. What you doing?

You: What ya watvhin ?

Joel: None of your business. Go get another drink. Looks like you’re not drunk enough.

You lift your head with a giggle, almost ready to turn your phone around to Anna and Kara and say, look what the dude I’m sleeping with just text me. And then, thankfully, your good sense kicks in and you bring the screen closer to your chest.

You: Kinda bored. Wanna come home now please

Bored, horny. It all means the same.

Joel says he’ll be at Frank’s in twenty minutes. You rest your chin on your palm and watch as Sam cheers Eve for hitting bullseye.

“I think they’re cute,” you whisper.

Anna and Kara are already preoccupied, taking photos of one another across the table. Kara leans into you and you smile, flash blinding your hazy eyes for a few minutes afterward. A few more pictures, couple boomerangs of your glasses cheersing, and then your phone’s vibrating.

Joel: Outside. No rush.

That last part is where he’s wrong. There most definitely is a rush, and it’s in the form of the heat that starts to pool between your legs.

“Alright,” you shimmy off your barstool and stretch your back. “My ride’s here.”

“What?” Anna almost screams, her hand slapping down on the table. “You’re leavin’?”

You nod. “Sorry, babe.”

“Don’t babe me, traitor. It’s, like, midnight.”

“Uh, it’s, like, almost 2AM. I’m tired. I don’t know how y’all do it.”

She sighs, conceding, and agrees to walk with you to the front door. Kara and Eve stop off by the bar to grab another drink. Sam holds the door open for you and Anna and you’re hit by a wave of cold night air, instantly cooling your hot, sweaty skin.

“Is that…Mr. Miller?” Anna asks, mouth falling wide open.

You glance down the street and notice his black truck, parked up by the curb. “Mhm,” you reply, “my dad’s out of town, so he’s picking me up.”

“Can he take me home, too?”

Sam snickers. “Wow, Anna. That’s just…Wow.”

She shrugs, lips closing around her straw as she stares at Joel’s truck. Something inside you lurches at the idea of Joel sitting there, his eyes glued on you, watching everything you do, everyone around you. And then again at the thought of Anna and her doting gaze on him.

“Alright, I guess that’s my cue to skip.”

Anna pouts. “One more drink?”

“I’m good, thanks,” you scoff, patting her head affectionately. I got business to attend to.

You give her a quick kiss on the cheek and Sam wraps an arm around your shoulder, giving it a squeeze before you’re wandering off toward Joel’s truck.

“Hey.” Something – someone – hooks around your elbow, and you turn back. It’s that same guy who stank of weed.

“Hi,” you reply, as sweet as you can, but trying to loosen his grip.

“Saw you inside, you out with friends?”

“Mhm. I’m just leavin’, my–”

“Few of us are headed upstairs. You wanna come?”

You glare at him a few seconds, before yanking your arm from his grasp. “Nah, no thanks. I’m leaving. Have a good night.”

You stagger off, feeling his eyes on you as you go. Joel’s truck headlights switch on, dazzling your eyes, and you quickly click around to the passenger side, throwing yourself in beside him.

Joel doesn’t say hey, doesn’t squeeze your thigh, doesn’t even look at you when you settle into the seat. Just asks –

“Who’s that kid?”

“Uh…not sure. Bumped into ‘im in the bar.”

“He give you trouble?”

“No,” you lean over the console, pulling your seatbelt over your body, and flash him a tipsy grin, “thought that was my job. Givin’ trouble.”

Joel doesn’t reply. Doesn’t take his scowl off the dude outside Frank’s, either. Your eyes meander across to his hand, locked in a tight fist around the wheel. Your smile drops.

“Joel. It’s fine. Can we go?”

When you lift a hand to the crook of his elbow and he feels your warmth on his skin, he tears his gaze away and it lands on you. Soft, gentle. His lip isn’t curled anymore. His brows lift.

His eyes watch your lips as you whisper the words to him.

“Want you to take me home.”

“’s go, pretty girl.”

----------

Joel refuses, no matter how many times you ask, how hard you bat your eyelashes, how many promises you make, to stop by a drive thru.

“Please?” you ask one last time before he’s pulling in to his neighborhood.

He shakes his head. “Look at that, we’re already home.”

“I ain’t takin’ no for an answer, Miller, not until the engine’s off. We’re still driving.”

He doesn’t reply. Just pulls up in his drive, cuts the engine, and looks at you. Shrugs. “Oops.”

“Fuck you,” you groan, sliding down in your seat. “I’m starvin’.”

“Make you a big breakfast in the mornin’, how’s that sound?”

“Wanted a Big Mac, but whatever.”

Your fingers fumble for the door handle, clicking it open. You roll out of the truck and stroll around to meet Joel at the driver’s side. He snakes an arm around your shoulders, steadying you as you walk up his porch steps and into the house.

“I’m fine,” you murmur, glancing around his living room.

“Alright,” he says, tossing his keys and kicking his boots off.

Your eyes settle on the TV screen, paused. Probably around the time you text him. There’s a crowded hospital room onscreen, doctors in dark blue scrubs, all surrounding someone lying on a bed, someone who looks pretty familiar…

“Is that…fuckin’…Grey’s Anatomy…?”

Joel chuckles, peeling your jacket from your shoulders.

“That’s Meredith! When she–”

“She fell in the damn river,” Joel mutters, placing the tasseled leather over the back of his couch. “Derek had to go in after her. Intense stuff.”

“Right? I told you it was good!” You smack his arm. “I can’t believe you’re watchin’ it without me.”

“I ain’t watchin’ it,” he protests, “it was just on, ‘n I needed something to keep me awake. I’m still rooting for Meredith ‘n George.”

“We can watch it from the beginning.”

“Yeah?”

You nod, moving over to him. “And then I can be over here all the time, and you can make me all the grilled cheese I want, and we can lie in bed and…do stuff.” Your chin rests on his chest, flashing him a toothy grin. Hands swinging in his at your side.

Joel’s eyes narrow, but there’s a smirk on his lips. “You’re drunk.”

“I’m not drunk. I had a couple drinks. I’m not drunk.”

“H’many fingers am I holdin’ up?” Joel asks, raising his fist. You punch it away.

“Ha-ha,” you say tonelessly, and wander away from him.

“Baby,” he calls you from behind. Sure, you’re tipsy, and he can be a cocky asshole – especially when he has to take care of you, but that’s a sound you’ll never get tired of hearing. Baby. You’re his darlin’, his sweet girl.

You spin around, very nearly losing your footing, and he’s standing with an arm out, ready for you to take.

You smile dumbly. Meander over, and take his strong hand in both of yours, wrapping your fingers around two of his to let him reel you in against his body.

“C’mon,” he whispers, as you lean against his frame. “Let’s get you upstairs.”

You follow him up, knowing where he’s leading you. You’ve spent more time in there the last few weeks than you have your entire life.

His room is cool, not cold, but comfortable. It’s Joel all over; the muted colors, the décor, the smell that calms you as soon as you stumble over the threshold.

He sits you down on the edge of his bed and kneels, pulling your boots off one by one.

You giggle.

“You laughin’ at me?”

“You’re like my own personal tr…No, not trainer. Wait. Personal ch–”

“Chef?” he says, snorting. “Not chef. Try again, soberhead.”

“Oh, I dunno.” You throw your arms up as he sits your boots against the wall, then stands and takes your hat off.

“This,” he says, placing it on the nightstand at your side of the bed, “is very cute. I like it.”

“I’m cute, too, y’know,” you whisper, pouting.

He smiles, and leans down to give you a quick kiss on the lips, pointer finger under your chin.

“The cutest.”

“Ha!” you roar. Joel twists around you to undo the zipper at the back of your dress. “Joel Miller thinks I’m the cutest. Take that, Anna…”

He laughs. When he unzips you, he pulls the dress off your bare chest and down your legs. You don’t shy away, used to the idea now of him seeing you naked. Used to the idea of him seeing you in any vulnerable state; drunk, or naked, or in a sobbing mess on day two of your period.

You notice, even though you’re a tad dizzy with what alcohol is left in your system, that his eyes linger on your panties a moment before he turns and grabs a tee from a chair.

And something inside you ticks.

“Joel?”

He’s pulling the shirt over your head. It smells like him. Intoxicates you much more and much quicker than any drink you could order from Frank’s.

“Mhm?”

You feed both arms through the sleeves, swallowing the question you were about to ask. He’s standing up now, telling you to get into bed.

He walks over to his dresser and begins removing his own clothing. He only sleeps in boxershorts. Your eyes track him as he yanks his t-shirt up over his toned shoulders; fingers undo his belt, unzip his jeans. Everything is discarded to the side for now; he has something more pressing to attend to.

His best friend’s daughter, laying in his bed, a pool of wet forming in her panties.

He just doesn’t know it yet.

As he slips under the covers beside you, you pull off your underwear in one quick movement. Joel doesn’t seem to notice, or so you think; his arms immediately take hold of your waist and pull you against his body. You’ve gotten into the habit of sleeping pressed against his torso, his thigh between your legs. Joel settles comfortably with you draped over him, and lets out a deep sigh.

“Joel?” you whisper again into the darkness, growing braver.

“Hm?” he replies, starting to fall asleep.

You toss ideas over in your head. None of them good, you’re sure, but you’re getting desperate. How he can’t feel your damp core on his thigh, you’ve no idea.

But then, maybe he can? Joel doesn’t miss anything, especially not where you and your…arrangement are concerned. Can he feel you? Is he deliberately ignoring it?

Maybe he has something up his own sleeve?

“I…was just wondering…”

“Wondering what, darlin’?” His voice is muffled, spoken through unmoving lips. You glance up at his face. His eyes are closed.

You grow more desperate.

“…wondering what your body count is?”

You ask it as innocently as you can, your voice wavering on the words body count. It gets him, though, as his eyes blink open a few seconds after you say it.

“I ain’t tellin’ you that. Go to sleep.” He closes them again.

“I wanna know.”

He ignores you.

“Joel,” you moan.

He calls you by name now, and you’re not sure if you’re pissing him off or turning him on – or both.

“Go. To. Sleep.”

“I’m not tired, though. Not yet.”

In response, Joel lets go of his hold on you and rolls over without another word. It’d sting if you weren’t soaking wet right now, and didn’t have a strong hunch he was hardening under the sheets.

“Joooel…” you whine, sitting up on your elbow. No use.

You take hold of his shoulder and tug him back toward you, rolling him onto his back. Like a deadweight, he remains frozen.

“Ugh,” you groan, and drag yourself on top of him, knees either side of his waist, ass hovering. When you sit back onto him, your core lining up with his crotch, your suspicions are proven right.

He’s hard.

Not as hard as he can get, as you’d like him to be, as you’ve felt him before…but he’s hard.

“Joel…” you mewl into the darkness, starting to grind your bare center over his boxers. The friction feels good, so you apply more pressure.

“If you don’t stop that,” Joel’s voice finally grumbles, “I’ll be sleepin’ downstairs.”

“Sex in the living room sounds good to me.”

His eyes open. “We,” one hand comes up to point between the both of you, as if he doesn’t expect your sobering self to understand which pairing he means, “are not having sex. No sex tonight.”

You sigh, shoulders dropping dramatically.

“Huff all you want, baby, it is not happening.”

“Why?”

“Why? Because you’re a few drinks too deep and it’s three in the morning. I’m tired, it’s been a long night waitin’ for you, I–”

“So let me make it up to you. I ain’t even drunk anymore.”

“No?”

“Nuh-uh. Could count any number a’ fingers you put in front of me.”

“Funny.” He closes his eyes.

“Joel.” You drag your hips again. If anything, he’s harder than he was when you first sat down on him. “I had a few drinks, I’ve sobered up. C’mon…”

You bend your waist and lower yourself to align your lips with the side of his head, peppering the skin under his ear with soft kisses.

“I wanna ride you, daddy.”

This gets him. His eyes open again, staring up at the ceiling. His hands slowly come up to rest on your hips.

“Don’t– That’s low, even for you, kid.”

You giggle and straighten up. When your hands lightly trace down his chest, onto his midriff and follow the trail of hair to his boxers, he doesn’t stop you. Just watches from beneath hooded lids, tensing at each point your fingers touch.

You raise your eyebrows, watching his expression for any sign to stop, and it never comes. He remains in place when your fingertips hook around the waistband of his underwear, slowly pulling down.

Joel breathes in deep when you reveal the tip of his cock, springing up to rest on his lower stomach. You feel your core clench. If he’s not inside you in the next five minutes, you might scream.

Well, you’ll be screaming either way.

You look back into his eyes and tilt your jaw, asking for permission.

“Go on,” he whispers.

Your hands take him eagerly, pumping up and down his shaft, and his head falls back onto the pillow with pleasure.

“Uhuh,” you mumble, focusing on his solid dick, but desperate for more. You give him a gentle squeeze and a groan passes his lips, his grip tightening on your body.

You let go of him and grind your hips along his length, folds coating his shaft in your wetness. Joel’s humming, watching as you pull yourself up and down him.

Then, you lean forward, and your hands take hold of him again. You give him a couple more strokes, eliciting a deep groan, and then line his bare cock up at your entrance, practically foaming at the mouth to sink down on him already.

“Woah, woah,” Joel takes hold of your wrist, “slow down, cowgirl. I gotta get a condom.”

You huff as he leans over to his nightstand and opens the drawer. “Don’t want one, Joel, I’m on the pill.”

“No way, baby,” he says through a chuckle, silver wrapper in his fingers. “We already did that, one too many times.”

“So just pull out?”

“Nope.”

You sigh, frustrated.

Joel holds the packet out to you, smirk on his face like he doesn’t expect you to take it.

So, you do.

You steal it from him and tear the wrapper, fishing the rubber out between your two fingers. Pinching the top, you roll it down his shaft and pump up and down for good measure.

“Ready?” you ask, head tilted, cocky smile on your lips.

“Wait, wait,” he whispers, shoulders lifting off the mattress. He lifts the hem of your shirt, telling you, “Off,” before pulling it over your head, exposing your bare breasts.

He stares you down; legs wide open, straddling him, completely naked, nipples hardened, figure silhouetted against the slivers of light peeking through the shades from the streetlights outside. You’ve never felt so confident, mounted on top of Joel fucking Miller.

His eyes roll back and his head falls against the pillow. “Fuckin’ – knock yourself out, baby.”

You steady yourself with one hand on his chest, the other taking hold of his cock and guiding it to your entrance. You push his head through your folds a couple times, and Joel hisses at the feeling, before you sink down.

You stop after the tip the first time, but it draws the same reaction from you both. Joel groans even louder than before, and you moan as you push yourself back up.

Then, without warning, you sink the whole way down.

He’s so deep it brings tears to your eyes, so big that he’s stretching you out more than you thought possible, hitting all the right spots already before you’ve even begun.

Joel’s eyes are screwed shut, his grip on your hips digging into your skin so tight it almost hurts. His jaw is tight, holding back what you can only imagine are the neediest moans he could sound.

So, you decide to draw them from him.

You lean forward and begin bouncing, feeling his thickness pull out and push back into you, both hands on Joel’s chest now for balance. You’re whimpering, the burn of his cock stretching your tight cunt so good and borderline painful at the same time, but you don’t stop.

“Good girl, good fuckin’ girl,” Joel moans, opening his eyes to watch you ride his dick. “’attagirl, just like that.”

“Joel…” you cry, letting him bottom out each time, feeling his balls slam into your ass with each bounce.

“Yeah? You like that? Tell me, baby, use your words.”

“So – good – Joel – oh!” you shout.

“Such a good fuckin’ girl for me, huh?”

You fight against the urge to close your eyes; the pleasure between your legs and the knot beginning to tighten in your stomach are all you can see, hear, feel, but you want to watch him some more. You want to see what you do to him.

You lean forward even further, moving your hands to the pillow either side of his head, so you’re directly above him now. One of Joel’s hands comes to the back of your head, pulling you down until your foreheads are together, moans escaping your mouths only to be inhaled by the other.

Joel speaks to you quieter, through gritted teeth.

“Like ridin’ me, do ya? Like the way it feels?”

“Mhm,” you moan back, and he brings a hand down to slap your ass. You yelp. “Fuck…”

“You look so good, baby, so good. Such a fuckin’ whore for me, hm?”

Another stinging spank pulls a whine from you so filthy, so loud that you’re sure the neighbors will hear, even at this hour. Joel smirks back, resting his hand back on your hip, where he has a grip of you.

Then, he bucks his own hips, pushing into you deeper than before, so deep you see stars. Your mouth falls open in a silent moan, panting through the searing pain so good that you never want it to end.

“Joel – I’m gonna – fuck, I’m gonna cum!”

“That’s it, sweet girl, cum all over me. Let go, baby, I’m here.”

That does it. The coil snaps, your walls clench. Joel lets out a guttural moan as you throw your head back and ride him through your orgasm. He coos you through it, squeezing your hips, whispering, That’s my girl, doin’ so good, baby as your body rocks back and forth on his cock.

When you come back down to earth, your lids heavy and breathing staggered, you swear your body can’t take anymore. You feel so fucked out that you’re not sure you can sit up straight on top of Joel.

But he’s always been able to read your mind, and this is no different. He pulls himself up and into you, propped up with one strong hand on the mattress behind his back, the other wrapping around your waist. His cock is still buried deep inside you.

“Joel…” you whimper pathetically. “Can’t do it anymore…”

“That’s okay, baby, we’re gonna do this one together, alright? I got you. Can you do that for me? Just one more?”

You link your arms around his neck and lean into him; his strong form doesn’t shift, just takes on your weight and keeps the both of you upright as he starts to bounce you on his length again.

You’re overstimulated; your cunt swollen, fucked-out, drenched in cum, but Joel makes you feel so good that it’s impossible to let him stop. Your arms pull him in closer to your chest to steady yourself, and his groans echo in your ear.

“Good girl, that’s– that’s it, so fuckin’ tight for me, pretty girl.”

When it all becomes too much to take – Joel’s hand squeezing your waist, your clit rutting against the bottom of his stomach, his fucking cock buried so deep inside you that you swear you can feel him splitting you open – you push him back down onto the bed.

Once when you still lived in New York you read something in a Cosmo about spelling the word ‘coconut’ with your hips when riding a guy. You’d tried it a couple times with hookups, and it’d never done anything for you. They’d never done anything for you.

But here you are, nearing your second orgasm, on top of someone making such a mess of you that you brain can hardly compute to spell coconut, never mind your hips being able to round the shape of the word.

His fingers grip the rim of the black cowgirl hat you’d worn that night. He lies back, flat against the mattress, and reaches up, placing the hat on top of your head. You smile. Joel speaks in a low, gentle, but commanding whisper.

“There you go, cowgirl. Show me how it’s done.”

It’s all you need. It’s all it takes, by this point.

You brace yourself against his chest again, positioning yourself just right, and bounce on him until your vision starts to blur.

The noises slipping out of Joel’s mouth each time your bodies connect at the base of his cock push you closer and closer; every groan and whimper which passes his lips makes you sink your hips down even harder, pushing him deeper and deeper with every bounce.

“So – fuckin’ – big – inside me,” you slur, and Joel moans in response.

When he takes your hips in his hands again, you know he’s there. He’s just waiting for you to fall first.

You give in to him, feeling yourself close around his length, throwing your head back in pleasure as your second orgasm washes over you, igniting every inch of your body.

Joel’s groans meet yours as you lean forward again, slowly rolling your hips to coax him through his own orgasm. Watching him release, buried deep inside, he looks so good that you feel like you could cum again just at the sight.

You feel his cock start to go limp inside you and when he opens his eyes, panting, you smile sweetly at him.

“Fuck, darlin’.”

You giggle, hips still driving gently against his. “Good?”

“So good, baby, did so well. You’re gonna be the death of me,” he whispers with a trembling breath, taking your waist in both hands and giving it a tight squeeze. You roll to the side, letting his cock slip out of you, condom full of his seed.

You tumble onto the mattress beside him, both heaving, moaning messes. Your chests rise and fall in sync, fingers tangling and untangling by your sides.

Then Joel gets up, and wanders over to the bathroom, where you watch him through the open door as he pulls the filled rubber from his soft dick. He bins it, then runs a facecloth under the faucet, dabbing it across his own forehead as he makes his way back over to you.

You can’t hide your grin as you watch his naked form approach; tan lines where his t-shirt must end, dark hair decorating his arms, legs, chest, the base of his cock. He sits at the edge of the bed, arm outstretched with the flannel in hand.

You go to take it from him, but he doesn’t loosen his grip. Just pats it over your face gently, soft gaze on yours, your fingers intertwined around his wrist. Your eyes fall closed, the cold cloth a relief against your warm, sweaty skin.

“Feel nice?” he whispers.

You nod in response. Your chest swells at how soft he’s being, how tender. When he stands to throw the flannel back into the sink, you almost find yourself reaching out to hold him down.

He climbs over you, springing back down onto the mattress with a heaving sigh.

You prop yourself up and shimmy over, positioning yourself on top of Joel, chest-to-chest. He looks down and smirks, running a lazy hand across your cheek.

“You’re so good to me,” he mumbles.

You tilt your head with a smile and lay down on his chest. You can hear his heartrate slowly calming down. His fingers twist through your messy hair.

“I have no idea what you’re laced with,” he says, “but you got me.”

You smile. “Yeah?”

Joel nods. You shift positions, adjusting your aching hips safely between his thighs. “You hurtin’?” he asks.

You nod. “Mhm. But I like it. It’s you.”

Joel’s hands run through your hair and his fingertips trace your shoulders. His touch is so light it almost tickles. You turn your jaw and kiss the back of his hand.

“My dad gone, Sarah out, free house…” you mutter.

“Hm.”

“So, you invite your mistress over.” You lift your head, smirking at him.

Joel’s chest vibrates with laughter. “You ain’t my mistress.”

“Oh really? What am I, then?”

“I am not having this conversation at 4AM, kid. Ask me again tomorrow.”

You’d think of something to throw back at him, messing with him, but your entire body aches, and your heavy eyes are starting to fold closed with how sleepy you suddenly feel.

You pull Joel’s sheets over yourself, turning your back to him. Joel instantly follows suit, pulling up right behind you, your back tight to his chest, his thighs cupping the back of yours, then slipping one between your legs.

His arms lock around your torso under the sheets. Safe. Secure. Nothing can happen to you as long as he’s got you.

“Ten,” his voice mumbles against the back of your head.

You turn so your ear is pressed against his lips. “Huh?”

“Ten. That’s my number. Includin’ you.”

Oh.

He doesn’t ask to hear yours. You wouldn’t mind if he did, but he doesn’t. You don’t think he’s telling you to hear yours in exchange. He’s telling you because you asked. He’s telling you because, whether in attempt to turn him on or simply to know something about him that you didn’t before – something nobody else knows – it mattered to you.

He’s telling you because you matter to him.

You nuzzle back into him a little, a form of reply, and, as you start to fall asleep, you feel him place a gentle kiss to your ear.

----------

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#joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #the last of us #tlou #tlou fic #dbf!joel #dbf!joel miller #dad's best friend #joel miller smut #joel tlou #joel the last of us #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fic #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us hbo #fic: cowboy like me

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httpsserene · 1 year ago

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ʟᴇᴛ’ꜱ ɢᴏ ɢᴏʟꜰɪɴɢ ᴡ/ ʟɴ4

📖ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: maybe you shouldn’t be late to any event you go to, or bare minimum don’t make any bets you know you’re not going to win. having no hand-eye coordination is not great when you’re being forced to play golf.

📖ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: i think i’m funny. one or two dirty jokes. and reader does have a lil injury (nothing bad). not edited at all 😎

📖ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: the doc says 900 words?? it feels longer idk

📖ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: lando x black!fem!reader (it’s mainly twitch trio focused-alex,george & lando)

📖ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: smau

📖ꜱᴏᴜɴᴅᴛʀᴀᴄᴋ: swang • rae sremmurd

ᴘʀᴇꜰᴀᴄᴇ: i’d like to remind everyone that the people asked for this hellscape! you 🫵🏽 asked for it. it’s long, like LONG. anyways: max is definitely the type of dude to use the cat emojis. my bad to my charles girlies, he did not make the cut for this 😔 i had to get rid of like three or four ig posts and stories to make this all fit into one tblr post, and none of that had charles content 🫠. also, the plot damn near ran away from me, but it’s barely there—it’s kinda more friend focused than lando x reader until the end! uh there’s one part in here that was inspired by tik tok comments, y’all will know which one 😅 inspired by the fact that my brother hit me with a golf club when i was a child 🙂i think i’m pretty funny so i hope you guys find this funny asl, otherwise what did i do this for?

if you want me to post the outtakes lmk

send me some requests or talk to me pls 😅

want to be on a tag list? tell me in my inbox <3

georgerussell63

liked by lilymhe, mercedesamgf1, and 4,100,123 others

georgerussell63: off to a terrible start for golf day. my girlfriends “wife” is crashing the party, and my mates gf is already -4 after two holes 🙂

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lilymhe: light work 💪🏼 no reaction🥱

user: not his girlfriend’s wife ☠️

➥ user: who does he think keeps carmen’s bed warm when he’s not at home???

alex_albon: welcome to watch mojo! and today we’re counting down our top 10 times our gf’s ditch us for each other 🤨

➥ user: and?

➥ user: what else are they supposed to do alexander 😀

y/ninstagram: put some respeCK on my name princling, or next time i see u its on sight 😡 im aiming the golf club straight at you

➥ georgerussell63: you can’t even hit the golf ball in under three tries, or aim anywhere near the holes

➥ georgerussell63: i think i’ll be fine

➥ y/ninstagram: 😟😐 i'll remember this george william russell, ur asking for it

carmenmmundt: george failed to mention that he’s +3 already

➥ georgerussell: like, literally nobody asked you to say that 😒

➥ landonorris: drag him !!! he doesn’t get to say shit about our wife 😤

➥ carmenmmundt: *my wife

➥ user: lmfaooo im 💀

alex_albon

liked by y/ninstagram, carmenmmundt and 3,431,543 others

alex_albon: ladies and gentlemen, introducing: *my* girlfriend 🤤✨

tagged lilymhe

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y/ninstagram: we MUST stay focused sisters

y/ninstagram: gawd damn‼️ wifey could hit me with that golf club any day

➥ carmenmmundt: fuck the club, i’ll let her run me over w the cart🥴

lilymhe: next hole, i’ll show you guys what a proper stoke is 😏

➥ lilymhe: since our bf’s seem to underperform…on the golf course obv

➥ user: AYOOO?!!

➥ carmenmmundt: okay 😇

➥ y/ninstagram: why r my thighs wet rn

➥ user: dO THEY KNOW THIS IS PUBLIC

alex_albon: i’m at a loss for words

➥ landonorris: this is literally your fault

➥ georgerussell63: can’t believe you mate 🫤

➥ alex_albon: how is this MY fault??! whattddiddiddoo

lilymhe • 5hrs ago

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y/ninstagram: idk y ur complaining? the cart is parked. on its side, but it’s parked😊

carmenmmundt: i think we’ve punished ourselves

alex_albon: should’ve left her ass at home like i said 😒

francisca.cgomes: idk even know why y’all let her drive the cart😨

y/ninstagram • 4 hrs ago

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maxfewtrell: ur joeeee kingggg. ur joe king 😐

francisca.cgomes: i wouldn’t even trust u with the scorecard—but pop off !!! girl boss shit

danielricciardo: SO I HAD TO, GRIND LIKE THAT TO SHINE LIKE THIS 🗣️🗣️‼️💯

lando.jpg

liked by maxverstappen1, oscarpiastri, and 3,862,431 others

lando.jpg: “i have the highest score out of everybody here! +26 up on y’all hoes!” - y/n

tagged y/ninstagram

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lando.jpg: BRO SAID ABSOLUTELY NOTHING 🥶🥶🔥🔥🔥

➥ maxfewtrell: SHE SOUNDS FIRE 🔥 ON MUTE ‼️💯

lilymhe: SHE GOT A HIDDEN TALENT 🔥🔥🔥 KEEP IT HIDDEN 🔥🔥🔥

➥ alex_albon: no talent ✅ JUST STRAIGHT ASS 💯💯🗣️🗣️🔥🔥

georgerussell63: THIS IS FIRE 🔥 PUT IT OUT ‼️

user: SHE SPITTING BARS 💯💯💯 PUT HER BEHIND THEM 🔥🔥🔥

user: THE SILENCE IS SO LOUD WHEN THIS HITS 🗣️🔥🔥

user: WE STARTED FROM THE BOTTOM 🔥🔥🔥 NOW WE’RE DIGGING 🗣️🗣️🔥💯‼️🙌🏽🙌🏽

y/ninstagram: y u hurt me 😪

➥ carmenmmundt: i think you’re underrated, honestly <; 3

➥ y/ninstagram: aw ty carmie :)

➥ carmenmmundt: I HOPE IT STAYS THAT WAY 🥶🥶‼️‼️🙌🏻🙌🏻

➥ y/ninstagram: bee-eff-eff-aur: be FUCKING for real 😒

y/ninstagram • 3 hrs ago

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maxverstappen1: i don’t want to laugh—man who TF am i kidding 😹😹😹

alexandrasaintmleux: how THE fuck did u manage to give yourself a concussion??!

carlossainzjr: pobrecita😪 how 😭 terrible 😭 can you tell lando to come over when ur done

carlossainzjr: hello

carlossainzjr: niña i can see you reading my messages

landonorris

liked by carlossainzjr, mclaren, and 6,234,765 others

landonorris: thank you for all the wishes about y/n (not u carlos, you’re in time out). she only has a mild concussion, and verbally assaults me when i wake her up every two hours 😒 to make sure she’s alive 🤗

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landonorris: god forbid i stop her from dying 😱

➥ carlossainzjr: heyyy be nice to her she’s in another world right now

➥ landonorris: u r not slick sainz. don’t expose our affair to my gf when she’s injured

➥ carlossainzjr: she won’t even remember this 🥺

➥ user: sir👁️👄👁️, this is a wendy’s drive through

➥ user: they know this on the internet 4ever right…?

lilymhe: this girl swung the club, missed the ball, and let go of the damn club no follow through

➥ carmenmmundt: it hit the ground and ricocheted back at her

➥ alex_albon: and she got knocked on the forehead hard asl

➥ georgerussell63: the noise it made was hilarious 😂 y’all should’ve been there

➥ user: geORGE WILLIAM????

➥ georgerussell63: i’m mad we didn’t get it on video smh 😔

taglist: @saintslewis @cherry2stems

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pressureplus · 5 months ago

Note

sebby x transmasc reader headcanons? i'm feeling self indulgent today >:)

Whoo, Yeah! I'm finally getting to answer this one! I personally have little to no gender at any point in time, and my lovely Co-Star has all of the gender and fluctuates fairly regularly between the shiny genders they've collected. So this is written from the shared trans braincell, gotta support the homies ✨

(Hope you have a wonderful day!)

Sebastian Solace x Transmasc Reader

[Warnings: Transphobia and misgendering (neither one from Sebby) and mentions of Dysphoria]

◞꒷◟ ͜ ͜ ◞ྀི◟୨୧◞ྀི◟ ͜ ͜ ◞꒷◟◞꒷◟ ͜ ͜ ◞ྀི◟୨୧◞ྀི◟ ͜

• Honestly, this fish bastard couldn't care less

• Your gender, job, and species are COMPLETELY irrelevant to him, the ONLY thing he really cares about is whether or not you are going to buy his stuff

• His gender? Shopkeeper. Now give him your data-

• If it's not addressed, you are literally just another man that Urbanshade sent on a suicide mission, he really doesn't care what is or is not in your boxers

• Can't stress enough that he's ONLY supportive when you or someone else brings it up, Sebby never pushes the topic. If you didn't know you told him or that he found out, you'd honestly think he didn't know

• Now, are there ways this becomes relevant to him? No, absolutely not, you are just another guy that's going to buy an expensive flashlight and then die several terrible deaths.

• It's not until one of the other expendables starts to misgender you that he even seems to notice

• "She? I don't particularly see any women in my shop at the moment- If you're sick I'm going to have to ask you to leave so we don't catch whatever nasty thing you have."

• "I think you meant 'Him', as in 'I am going to hand Him my gun and look away when He makes you a stain on my tile'. Do you understand me, expendable?"

• "It's funny hearing someone only packing 3 inches try to decide what is and isn't a man. I think we all know his is bigger than yours is, so if you could shut up about it that would be great."

• Sometimes he's more sassy, sometimes more outwardly aggressive, and occasionally he tells someone off in a way that's a bit more on the side of entertaining, but he does always make a point to stick up for you

• If you need your hair cut, he'll do it. He cuts his own hair and has for the last decade, so he's actually pretty good at it! Better at messy styles, but he'll try a clean one if you really want him to

• "If you die because your hair is in your eyes, I won't get your data. You must understand this is to my own benefit, Y/N."

• Sebastian is... Starting to call you by your name. You're not sure when you stopped being an expendable like everyone else and started being the name you actually chose for yourself, but you've surely become different to him

• Sebastian was born a man, and handles issues regarding your situation completely casually unless it 100% HAS to be verbally brought up, so you are left completely confused by what you did to get closer to him like this

• Was it somewhere between him validating you or defending you? Was it when he sat with you for the first or third time while you were wrestling your disphoria? Was it trust, or maybe pity... It couldn't be pity, right?

• One day you'll find out he's sees himself in you

• He says it like a joke when he starts to talk about how they treat you differently when they don't understand you. Researchers treated him the same way a handful of the other people down here treat you.

• He knows it's not quite the same, but it feels the same for him sometimes. When they call him 'it' instead of he... Sometimes he calls himself an 'it' or a 'thing', too even though he knows he hates that. Do you feel that way when they call you a she? He'll just go ahead and start banning those people for you both, he doesn't like them anyway.

• He isn't comfortable in his own body anymore either. He didn't choose what he is now the same way you didn't choose what you were born as

• Sometimes, his body doesn't fit right, either. He hates that he understands that feeling, but he does...

• He's starting to get comfortable with that familiarity, and with maybe not feeling so alone

• Is it wrong of him to enjoy having found someone he can relate to? If even just a little?

• Sebastian knows it's probably awful of him, but he's making a point to be good to you for it

• It makes himself feel better for a while when you can connect like that so naturally...

• It makes him feel human again.

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ckret2 · 2 years ago

Text

At long last, we get to see: this moment.

Chapter 11 of Human Bill Being The Mystery Shack's Hella Depressed Prisoner, featuring: Mabel giving Bill a ✨beautiful makeover✨—and Stan and Ford almost dying from laughter. And thus begins Bill & Mabel's inevitable befriending. Previous chapters here! 1/16/2025, now edited for TBOB compatibility!

####

Every time Mabel had to use the stairs, she paused to look at Bill sitting in his window.

He never seemed to move.

A few days ago, it was creepy. Now, it was just kind of sad.

Last year, after Mabel and Dipper's parents had heard the whole story about their summer, they'd immediately dragged the twins with them to their family therapist. (They had to switch therapists a few times before they found one who would engage with their barely-averted-apocalypse story at face value rather than search for the root of these "delusions.")

Mabel didn't think she needed all that—the end of the world hadn't been that scary, and honestly she'd missed most of it partying in her prison bubble, it wasn't like she was having puppet nightmares and stuff like Dipper—but whatever, it made their parents feel better.

At their current therapist's office, before each appointment, Dipper and Mabel had to fill out checklists that they gathered were to measure whether they'd come down with a case of depression—Please read the following statements and circle the word that shows how often they happen to you. Never, sometimes, often, always.

She'd filled out these things so many times that she could practically recite the list of statements by memory. Nothing feels very fun anymore. I have problems with my appetite. I have trouble sleeping. I have no energy for things. I feel like I don't want to move.

Far be it from her to try to diagnose an evil demon monster space triangle who'd tried to murder everybody she knew, but. Well. You know. Sitting curled up alone, day after night after day, barely moving, barely talking, barely eating, waiting for nothing at all... Yikes. She could only guess how he'd answer statements like I feel empty and sad or I feel worthless.

In Mabel's mind, there was a piece of paper. On that piece of paper were the faces of everyone currently living in the shack. Herself, Dipper, Waddles, Grunkle Stan, Grunkle Ford, Soos, Abuelita, Gompers even though he lived outside, and Melody as an honorary part-time resident. Next to each of their faces, there was a sticker, reflecting their current overall mood. Right now, everyone had either a happy face or a flat-mouthed neutral face—not bad, but could be better.

As she looked at Bill, she mentally promoted him at last from "entity haunting the attic" to "temporary resident." She added his face to her imaginary paper. And she slapped a big blue crying sticker next to it.

She wouldn't stand for that. Not even from him. Not under her roof.

####

Today, Bill wasn't in his usual window seat. He'd elected to curl up in a corner of the attic, hiding in the shadows with his stolen blanket. The window was probably too hot. Mabel typically used acrylic yarn, and she knew from experience how quickly Sweater Town could turn into Sweaty Town.

For the first time, Mabel sauntered, quite casually, across the invisible barrier separating the rest of the attic from Bill's nest. She offered her winningest smile and her cheerfullest, "Hey, Bill!"

The Thing Beneath The Blanket gave her a look that, she suspected, could probably be described as deeply suspicious. "Shooting Star."

"Yup! Haha! That's—that's me all right! You got me." Mabel laughed. (This was going great so far. This was very natural.) "So, anyway!" She grabbed one of the couch cushions Bill had been using as a bed, dragged it a little closer to the corner, and plopped down. "This is such a weird coincidence, but one time, I got gum stuck in my hair and had to shave it off! I mean, crazy, right?"

"Uh huh." Bill didn't sound impressed. "Second grade." (And Mabel was uncomfortably reminded of the first time she'd ever seen Bill, the way hundreds of faces and places and memories that didn't belong to him had flashed across his body in seconds: I know lots of things.) "Hey, since you brought it up, can I ask you something about that little incident?"

"Uh..." This was what you signed up for, Mabel. You volunteered for a conversation with Bill. You've gotta converse. "Sure, I guess."

He leaned forward, yarn triangle face looming above her. "Did getting gum in your hair change your species? Did you still look like yourself when you shaved it off?" The face bobbed as he pantomiming looking her up and down. "You still look human to me! So what's your point."

Okay, so he'd immediately recognized she was trying to relate to him, aaand he was landmining their common ground. Great start. "Jeez, don't be so mean! I'm trying to tell you I get it. Not... the species part, but the other part. I wanna help!"

Bill scoffed. "Sure you do."

"Really!"

"Why?"

"Because you're all sad and it's making me sad."

Bill, o wise and ancient being that he was, knew of "empathy" in a conceptual sense. He was aware that it was a thing that happened to some people. He even knew that it was common among humans. But on some level he kinda sorta felt like it only really happened to mindreaders that didn't know how to establish proper psychic boundaries. He laughed in Mabel's face. "No, seriously! What are you getting out of this."

Mabel decided she had no interest in explaining compassion to an alien mass murderer. "Okay, I want Soos's blanket back. I gave it to him, not you."

"Fine. If you want his blanket back, make me one."

"What? No! Those are our Team Zodiac-That-Defeated-You blankets, you don't get one."

"Didn't you make one for everybody else on the wheel? I'm on the wheel, aren't I?" He pointed at his face. "Bam! There I am, right in the middle! Star of the show! If everyone else deserves a blanket, so do I."

"Why do you even want one? It's a symbol to kill you."

"It's got my face on it! It's not that deep." He crossed his legs and leaned his elbows on his knees, getting more comfortable. "So do I get to pick the colors? I'll take yellow if that's all you got, but if you get me metallic gold I think I can swing you a favor."

"I'm not making you a blanket," Mabel said. "I was thinking maybe a wig?"

Bill shuddered. "Pass."

"Aw, come on! I bet I could find you a really cute wig. Maybe something with bangs, have you ever thought about trying bangs? Summerween's coming up, I could go to the costume store—"

"Don't even think about it." Bill leaned away from Mabel, back into his corner. She was losing him. "Do you think I did this by accident?" He pointed vaguely toward his scalp. "Being stuck in a human body, with all this skin? Disgusting. Being a human and secreting fifteen miles of hair out of a hundred thousand of pores? Infinitely worse."

"Wait, wait, fifteen miles?" Mabel had never considered how long a full head of hair laid out end-to-end would be. "How much hair do I have?"

"Huh." Bill tilted his head consideringly. "How dense is your hair?"

"Super dense. I've broken multiple brushes."

"Could be up to fifty miles."

Mabel's eyes widened. "Whoa."

"And you've got fifty thousand miles of blood vessels," Bill added cheerfully. "Anyway, if you want this blanket back? You won't get it with a wig. All I want is to look..." he formed his fingers into a triangle, thumb to thumb and forefinger to forefinger, and held it over the face on the blanket, "... like this. Now, if you're offering to help me get my real body back—"

"Never in a million years."

"Didn't think so!" Bill retreated fully into his corner again, knees pulled back up under the blanket, like an eel hiding in a hole to await its next prey. "But hey, if you've got an offer that's a step up from the blanket, I'm willing to negotiate."

"Huh." Mabel frowned thoughtfully. Something triangly. Something triangly that was better than a blanket, without helping Bill return to full power.

She got to her feet. "Let's put a pin in this conversation and circle back to it later. I'll come back with some proposals for you to review."

Bill laughed. "Okay, business girl! Have your people call my people. You know where to find me."

Mabel leaped down the stairs three at a time, ideas already forming in her head.

####

"Hey, Grunkle Ford!"

Ford was sitting at the former controls of the interdimensional portal, studying some radar readings; but he glanced up with a smile when Mabel ran out of the elevator. "Mabel. What brings you down here?"

She dragged an office chair up beside Ford, plopped down in it, and spun a couple of times. "I need to ask some questions about Bill!"

Ford's smile faltered. "Ah."

"Last summer, when we were burning all your art of him—"

(Ford winced in embarrassment.)

"—you said he could do some kind of magic with pictures of his face? What's all that about?" She stopped spinning. "Do they give him more power? Can he fire lasers out of them, or...?"

"No, nothing like that, thank goodness. Depictions of his face granted him a different kind of power: the power of knowledge. When he was trapped in the Nightmare Realm, he could tap into our world's collective mindscape and see through drawings of himself as if they were cameras. Ironically, plastering images of his face everywhere to symbolically represent an 'all-seeing eye' is what made him so all-seeing in the first place."

Mabel nodded thoughtfully. "Did you know you talk like one of those experts they hire to explain things in history documentaries?" she asked. "You should be on TV. You'd be good at it."

Ford gave her a confused smile. "Er—thank you."

"So, if Bill's already here, making new pictures of his face doesn't do anything?"

He supposed she was wondering about the zodiac blankets she'd spread around town. "Probably not. At a minimum, he'd have to be in the mindscape to be at the right 'angle' to see through the eyes. As he is now, trapped in a human form?" Ford let out a slow, thoughtful sigh. "It's hard to say for sure, without knowing how he got to be this way or what kinds of powers he's still hiding... but based on everything I've seen so far, I doubt they do anything for him."

"And if somebody put a picture of him on his face, it wouldn't do anything at all! Because that's like, his face. He already has eyes there."

Ford chuckled. "I suppose that's true. It would be like he'd grown a third eyeball, that's all." He paused. Put a picture of him on his face? "Why do you ask?"

Too late; she was halfway to the elevator. "Thanks, Grunkle Ford! I'll see you at dinner!" And she was gone.

####

"What's all this?" Bartholomew asked.

Mabel was dumping a bag of costume makeup and cheap convenience store makeup palettes onto her bed. They sparkled in varying hues of tacky gold glitter. "Art project!" She scooped Bartholomew out of his cradle by Dipper's bed, climbed the rickety ladder to the storage loft over their bedroom, and set him down leaning against a box. "You're on guard duty. Stay quiet and if anything goes wrong, get Dipper."

"How do you expect me to get Dipper? I'm a doll. I can't move."

"Come on, Mew-Mew. You think we don't know you teleport when nobody's looking?"

Bartholomew paused. "Touché."

Mabel rummaged through her art supplies; put tape, glue, and a couple of flattened cardboard boxes on the bed; added all the yellow crayons, markers, and paints she could find; and finally, satisfied, she ran out of the room. "Bill!"

"Still here."

"I've got the perfect solution. I'm giving you..." Mabel posed, hands on her hips. "A makeover!"

Bill waited for the follow up. There was no follow up. "Heh."

"Laugh now, but before I'm finished, I'm gonna make you more beautiful than your wildest dreams!"

"With all due respect"—which, by his tone of voice, didn't sound like much—"your idea of 'wild' taps out where my dreams are just getting started."

"Then I'll just have to up my game, won't I?" Mabel held out her hand. "Just give me that blanket, show me that weird bald head of yours, and let me make it into a canvas for high art! Trust me!"

Bill contemplated her extended hand. Did he trust her? In most situations, he considered trust irrelevant. He expected most people to do whatever they thought would benefit themselves the most; sometimes that meant keeping their word, and sometimes it didn't. And he still wasn't sure what Mabel really expected to get out of this.

On the other hand. Was he really curious to find out where she was going with this? Yes. And the worst thing she could possibly do to him was make him very slightly more ugly than he already was. And playing along would fill his empty afternoon.

"Okay, kid." He reluctantly handed the blanket over. "You haven't given me a bad makeover so far." (He hadn't actually seen her marker mask, but it never hurt to flatter the person about to paint all over you.) He stood and stretched. "Show me what you've got. But if I don't like it, you owe me a blanket."

"Yes!" She grabbed his hand—his whole arm immediately went stiff—and dragged him toward the bedroom. "Welcome to my salon!"

####

Sure enough, just like Ford had said—when Stan checked Bill's attic nest, there was no sign of him.

Stan didn't like that one bit. Where the hell had their prisoner gotten off to?

As Stan approached the attic bedroom, he could hear Mabel talking: "More glitter?! That's crazay! Okay, here goes! I bet you could pull off such a glam rock look." (That explained where the kids were. He'd been starting to wonder.) "Hold still, I'm gonna try something I saw on a Russian supermodel—"

"Kids," Stan called, "do you know where the demon went?" He opened the door. "Poindexter says he can't find him anywhere, and—"

Mabel was kneeling on the floor, surrounded by the widest variety of makeup brushes and palettes Stan had ever seen. Her fingers and sleeve cuffs were coated in gold glitter and paint.

Kneeling in front of her, with his legs splayed awkwardly and his hands on the floor like he wasn't sure how to lower this body down to Mabel's height, was Bill. His face was liberally coated in acrylic gold paint and amateurishly contoured with a mix of craft glitter and golden eyeshadow. One eye was shut—the eyelashes delicately dusted with more gold eyeshadow to help it blend in—while the other was coated in a layer of mascara so thick it was a miracle his lashes didn't glue shut when he blinked.

And to cap off the gilded absurdity, his face was sticking through a hole in the middle of a cardboard triangle helmet, painted sunflower yellow with bricks shakily traced on in marker. Bill looked like the poor kid assigned the part of "the pyramid" in a fourth grade class play about ancient Egypt.

Mabel and Bill stared at Stan.

Stan stared back.

He covered a snort with a cough. "I'll—I'll tell Ford you've got it handled." He slammed the door.

He let out a bellow of laughter.

Mabel put a hand on Bill's shoulder. "He doesn't understand avant-garde fashion. You look like a million dollars."

"I know," Bill said. "All the same—maybe a hat would class things up a little?"

Mabel reached for a sheet of black construction paper. "You're so right."

####

"Well?" Mabel leaned around Bill, trying to see what he looked like in the full-length mirror. "What do you think?"

Bill stared in the mirror. A horrific abomination of flaking paint, cakey makeup, and taped-up cardboard stared back.

He grinned so wide it cracked his face paint. "I think I'm looking at the hottest human being in history."

"Yes!" Mabel pumped a fist into the air.

####

Ford said, "Stanley, what is it?"

Stan wheezed until his lungs ran out of air.

Concerned, Ford leaned across the kitchen table, lacing his hands together. "Did you find Bill?"

"M—Mhmm."

"He hasn't hurt Mabel, has he?" Ford asked, flashing back to their conversation earlier. "Or—or Dipper? Anyone?"

Stan bit his lip and shook his head. Tears of laughter pricked the corners of his eyes.

"Did he... put some kind of laughing curse on you?"

Stan shook his head more emphatically. "H—" He couldn't get one syllable out before he had to choke back his laughter again. He pounded on the table.

Grasping at straws and defaulting to the first worst case scenario he could think of, Ford said, "He hasn't found a way back to his true form, has he?"

Stan let out a noise like a balloon that had been untied and unleashed to fly around the room. "I MEAN—"

"Gooood afternoon, gentlemen!" Beaming brightly enough to rival the sun, twirling an umbrella like a cane, Bill strutted in.

Ford clapped one hand on Stan's shoulder, clapped the other over his mouth, and turned away, shoulders shaking. Stan smacked Ford's arm in sympathetic hysteria.

"I see we're all in high spirits today!" With the brazen confidence of an illegitimate prince marching into a throne room to demand his crown, Bill strolled through the kitchen, barely sparing the Stan twins a glance. Mabel followed behind him, grinning from ear to ear. "I wouldn't mind some spirits, myself." He paused in front of the fridge. "Could someone—?"

As the closest person to the fridge, Ford pulled it open, then turned to watch so he could make sure Bill didn't do anything he shouldn't with the food. This required him to look in Bill's direction. He curled his lips into his mouth and bit down. His eyes watered.

"Finally." Bill hungrily surveyed the inner contents of the fridge, grabbed an armload of condiments, a jar of pickles, and a tub of leftover chicken nuggets, and dumped them on the nearest counter. He tried to reach for a bottle of spoiled and incredibly fermented corn syrup toward the back of the fridge, banged the sides of his cardboard helmet on the fridge's doorframe, and quickly backed off and felt the corners to make sure they weren't too damaged. He had to turn sideways to reach the bottle without hitting the edges of the fridge. One corner of his mask tipped over a bottle of apple juice. Watching this performance very nearly killed the Stans.

"There." Bill triumphantly set the bottle on the counter, grabbed a can of alphabet spaghetti that had been forgotten on an open shelf, and asked, "Where do you have the bowls hidden?" He rapped on one of the cabinet doors with his umbrella.

The sight of the umbrella knocked Ford out of some of his hysteria. "Where did you—?" He snatched the umbrella out of Bill's hands. "No weapons."

Bill gave Ford a withering one-eyed look (Ford suspected his other eye was glued shut with paint), then elected to ignore him. "Shooting Star?"

"They're down here!" Mabel opened one of the base cabinets. Bill retrieved a bowl and started filled it with his condiment haul.

"Okay," Stan said, voice strained with suppressed laughter. "Okay, what—what are we looking at?"

"A masterpiece of cosmetic art," Bill said. Mabel's grin widened.

Ford elbowed Stan across the table. "Do you remember the 'living statue' performers on the Glass Shard Beach boardwalk?" he asked. "The ones who'd paint all their skin and clothes gold—?"

"Oh yeah!" Stan let out a bark of laughter. "That's exactly what he looks like!"

In his bowl, Bill had layered mayonnaise, Tabasco sauce, mustard, sour cream, and maple syrup, and carefully stuck in as many chicken nuggets as he could without the mix slopping over the edges. He got Mabel's help to stick it in the microwave, then turned toward the Stans with a smug grin. "So you agree that I look like a work of art."

"No," Stan said, "they looked like idiots, and so do you."

Bill scoffed. "You don't know anything! You look at a human body, and all you see is a human with things stuck on it. I can look at a human body and see a canvas. I've stripped this vessel of its association with humanity and transformed it into an idol of myself."

Mabel loudly cleared her throat.

"Okay, she did most of the work. She wouldn't even let me do my own mascara."

Ford seriously considered the artistic merit of Bill's proposed "human body sans humanity as art material" paradigm. After a moment of deliberation, he said, "You have cardboard taped to your face."

Stan slapped the table. "HA!"

Bill opened the alphabet spaghetti can, slopped half into a glass, filled the rest with spoiled corn syrup—whose fumes were powerful enough to completely sterilize the sinuses of everyone in a five foot radius—and then filled the can with corn syrup as well. The mixes bubbled threateningly. The absolute picture of good cheer, Bill announced, "I'm the most beautiful thing any of you have ever seen. It's just too bad your closed little minds can't enjoy the marvel in front of you." He stirred his toxic alphabet spaghetti concoction with a pickle spear.

Stan watched Bill mix his drink in mild alarm. "What in the world are you making?"

Bill held his wrist over the glass and a knife to his wrist. "A Bloody Mary."

Stan's alarm increased. "No you aren't."

"That's your opinion."

"Where did you get—!" Ford leaned over to snatch the knife out of Bill's hand.

"It was in the fridge, it was sticking out of the leftover casserole!" Bill rolled his eye. "Re-lax! I wasn't pointing it at you." He lifted his drink, nearly poured it into his eye, caught himself at Mabel's shout of alarm, took a sip through the correct hole, then inspected the thick gold lip stain left on the rim. "Huh." He looked at Mabel.

She shrugged. "I could have set the makeup with baby powder, but I thought it might dim some of the sparkle."

"You chose form over function. I respect that." He sipped his drink more carefully.

The microwave went off, Mabel opened the door, and Bill scooped up his condiment-and-nugget stew and both alleged Bloody Marys. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'm gonna go be handsome somewhere else—"

The corner of his cardboard helmet banged into the kitchen doorway. He dropped one of his drinks, stumbled against the wall, and looked in dismay at his syrup-and-spaghetti-sauce-soaked skirt. He turned to Mabel. "How's my head?"

She grimaced. "We... can fix that with tape."

Bill sighed. "Come on, let's do it before my nuggets get cold."

"Now hold on!" Ford stood up. "Are you going to clean this mess up?"

"No!" Bill was out of the room. Ford could already hear him tripping on the stairs. "You don't trust me with a mop!"

Well. It was true, they didn't trust him with a mop. Sighing, Ford trudged across the room. "I'll get it."

Stan said, "You know, I think I'm glad he looks like an idiot. He's been so mopey the last couple of days, I was almost starting to feel bad for him."

"Thank goodness, you too," Ford muttered. "I was afraid I was going soft."

"Nah, he really was pathetic," Stan said. "Like a sad show poodle that doesn't understand why it's been shaved in weird shapes."

Ford barked a laugh.

Once the floor was clean, Ford confessed, "I've—actually really worried about that. Going soft, I mean. I'm... afraid that Bill could find a way back into my head."

"Literally or emotionally?"

"Emotionally." Ford paused. "Both, actually—but right now, I mean emotionally. The night he burned his hair off, I..." He winced at himself; but he needed to tell Stan. There was no one else he trusted to give him a reality check. Maybe Fiddleford, but... Ford hadn't figured out how to approach him about all this yet.

He put back the mop, to have an excuse to pause and gather his words. "I... brought him something to eat," Ford mumbled. "And, told him I knew what it was like to be trapped in an alien universe, and—that he should take better care of himself, for his own sake—and I don't know why I said that! Anything good he does for himself just makes things harder for us! It's not as though I forgot that, but—What? Stanley, why is this funny."

Stan had started laughing; but he cut it off a cough. "Sorry. It's just—do you remember how Mom would go 'Well, I can tell you two are related' any time we did something—you know—twinnish?"

"Don't tell me you've been making sandwiches for Bill."

"Ha! No, but I've given my arch nemesis a pep talk when he was having a mental breakdown. I felt bad for him!"

Ford chuckled. "Really?" He dropped back into his seat. "I didn't know you have an arch nemesis, who's that?"

Stan considered Ford's reaction if he admitted that his nemesis was that ten-year-old with a crush on Mabel, and said, "Ah, he's been out of my hair for ages. So what, is that all you talked about?"

"Somehow it turned into him trying to convince me he'd been planning a welcome party when I fell through the portal."

"Ha! And did you believe him?"

"Absolutely not." Ford paused thoughtfully. "But—part of me wonders whether he believes it himself."

"He seems like the kind of guy to buy his own bull." Stan shrugged. "Nah, I don't think you're about to fall off the wagon. Just don't let him fast-talk you into any decisions and don't buy anything he's selling without telling him you'll think it over for twenty-four hours. And the more he says decide now, the harder you say no. That's how the pros get you, they don't give you room to breathe, let alone think."

Ford was pretty sure Stan was just describing the Mystery Shack's souvenir sales strategy; but he nodded slowly. "I know exactly what you're talking about. When I gave him permission to pilot my body, between the first time he mentioned it was an option and the moment I agreed to it... well, I was asleep at the time, so I can't be sure how long it took—but I'd guess it was less than fifteen minutes. In retrospect, I couldn't believe that I'd agreed so thoughtlessly. But I suppose that's exactly what he wanted. And I'd already trusted him to make so many other minute alterations to my mind..." Which made it all the more suspicious that Bill had only waited until right then to "offer" to pilot Ford's body. No room to breathe was a good way to describe it. Never mind being nose-to-nose with somebody trying to pressure you into a sale—how do you take a step back to get a little space from somebody who's already inside your head?

"Did he make it sound like a limited-time-only deal? You know—'buy now while the price is low, you'll regret missing this offer'? But with more mystical woo-woo phrasing, I mean."

"Not exactly, but..." Ford tried to remember back that far, grasping for the details of the conversation—the real conversation, not the heady, excited version he'd summarized in his journal. "At the time, I'd been worried about falling behind schedule on the portal's construction. He wouldn't have had to introduce an element of tension—it was already there. All he had to do was exploit it." He shook his head. Falling behind schedule. What schedule—the one he, himself had made? He was sure Bill had encouraged him to finish as fast as possible, too.

"There, you see? You got swindled by a professional swindler," Stan said. "What's important is that you know what he is now, and you know his tricks. He won't get you the same way twice. I'm not worried about you."

There were a couple of odd thuds from upstairs, accompanied by a yelp from Bill. That wasn't odd; he'd proven to be remarkably clumsy in a human body. At any given time it was possible to tell where he was by the random bangs, and if he hadn't made a noise in the last five minutes it meant he was curled up safely in his window seat.

What was odd was hearing Mabel's voice: "Careful, careful—! Augh. ... I'll get another sheet of cardboard, we'll replace that!"

Stan and Ford looked warily toward the stairs. Stan muttered, "Mabel, on the other hand..."

Ford nodded. "I'll keep an eye on her."

####

(Thanks for reading, y'all! Edit to this chapter from 1/16/2025: From time to time I get comments about how well I've "edited" this story to line up with TBOB—which is irking, because I've been working on this story since over a year before TBOB came out, and some of the most TBOB-compliant things in it were written months before TBOB was even announced. And it's petty & insignificant, but by golly, I want the people who didn't read the rough drafts to know just how little I had to change to make it fit the book. So I've decided to add author's notes documenting what was and—more importantly—what was not changed to line up with TBOB.

So! Edits made to this chapter as a result of TBOB: basically nothing of importance. Changed "their parents took them to a therapist" to "their parents took them to their therapist" to reference the fact that the kids' parents are going through a rough patch; inserted a single sentence referencing the fact that Bill's rewired Ford's brain a bit; changed one sentence from "I don't think he'll get in your head" to "I don't think you'll fall off the wagon" to allude to how Ford calls himself a "Cipherholic" in TBOB; added a sentence where Mabel suggests he try bangs; and added one sentence confirming Bill could do his own mascara if he wanted/was allowed. And that's it.

The rest (including Bill implying he suspects the zodiac is to honor him rather than defeat him, talking about therapy at all in relation to Bill as something he probably needs, Bill jumping at the opportunity to share weird info about the human body, Bill being very enthusiastic about treating the human body as a canvas to be improved with art of himself...) is all pre-TBOB.

Anyway, if you read this far, I'd love to hear your thoughts!)

#mabel pines #grunkle stan #(for the art)#bill cipher #human bill cipher #(for the fic)#gravity falls #gravity falls fanart #gravity falls fic #my writing #my art #bill goldilocks cipher

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kurishiri · 7 months ago

Text

Roger’s replies to (some of) his chat keywords on LINE

this translation may not be 100% accurate or may contain creative liberties for characterization or narrative flow purposes. if you enjoy, please consider reblogging, but don’t repost or claim these as your own!

these aren’t all the keywords, but it’s probably the majority👌✨

also if you’re not aware of it, this is like a little event they’re holding on LINE where sending certain “key words” will trigger a response from Roger!

1. ロジャーさん

💬: Roger

🍻: Did you call me? Don’t worry, I’m listening veeery closely.

2. おはよう

💬: Good morning

🍻: Morning, lil lady. Breakfast is the first step to feeling energized. So go and eat, even if it’s just a little.

3. こんにちは

💬: Hello

🍻: Haha, what’s going on, acting so formal like that? I think it’s great you’re always able to greet me. After all, greetings are fundamental for humans. Guess I could learn a thing or two from you.

4. おやすみ

💬: Good night

🍻: No matter how the day went, the fact you lived today to the fullest is an undeniable truth. You were great. Good night, come and see me again tomorrow.

5. ありがとう

💬: Thank you

🍻: Thank you, too. Hearing you thanking me makes me so happy, I don’t feel like myself.

6. 褒めて

💬: Praise me

🍻: Haha, you’re pretty honest and cute. You’re always doing well. And even if no one else is watching, I will be the only one to realize your efforts. …You did well.

7. 好きです

💬: I like you

🍻: An honest and good girl like yourself needs to be rewarded. So, between a kiss, a kiss, and a kiss—— well, take your pick.

8. 愛してます

💬: I love you

🍻: Who loves who, now? …Haha, you’re just so cute, I couldn’t help but tease you a lil.

9. 話そう

💬: Let’s talk

🍻: I was also thinking I wanted to talk to you, lil lady. So, come here, and let’s take our time talking about lots of things.

10. キスして

💬: Kiss me

🍻: Heh, aren’t you a bold one. Okay then, let’s kiss. Even if we do more than a kiss, they say you reap what you sow, lil lady.

11. お腹すいた

💬: I’m hungry

🍻: Anyways, first things first, eat some meat. I know of a place near the Big Ben with some good food. We can head over there and eat ‘til we’re full. ——Well, let’s go.

12. 犬

💬: Dog

🍻: Dogs are a miracle to this world. They’re so lovable and soft… it’s hard not to love them.

13. ビール

💬: Beer

🍻: Beer is the source of life! Time to drink! (he downs some beer) Pwah— Ahh… I feel alive again…

14. 筋肉

💬: Muscle

🍻: Muscles, muscles! [1]

15. コーギー

💬: Corgi

🍻: That’s my dog’s breed. They’re formally called Welsh Corgis, and they’re said to be bright and lively with very social characters. …Anyway, corgis are cute, period.

16. ボクシング

💬: Boxing

🍻: It’s something like my hobby, or maybe more like my life work. Boxing doesn’t have your run-of-the-mill kind of momentum, so I’d recommend it.

NOTES:

[1] when you send him the word [筋肉] (kin’niku), which translates to (a general) “muscle” in English, Roger replies with [マッスル、マッスル！] (massuru, massuru!) which is the “Japanese English” (katakana) version of the word “muscle.” So, I just differentiated them by like adding an ‘s’ at the end like “muscles, muscles!”

#divider by cafekitsune #ikemen villains #ikevil #イケメンヴィラン #ikevil roger #ikevil roger barel #roger barel #ikemen villains roger #cybird ikemen #cybird ikemen series #cybird otome #ikemen series #ikeseries #otome game #otome #ikevil translation #ikevil translations

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agentstarkid · 8 months ago

Text

NEPENTHE ✦ DR3

NEPENTHE, a term rooted in Greek mythology, refers to a legendary potion believed to dispel sorrow and induce forgetfulness of pain. This concept has evolved to symbolize anything that eases suffering and promotes emotional healing. When applied to love and post-heartbreak, nepenthe can be seen as a metaphor for the various ways people cope with the pain of lost love. This could include time, new relationships, self-discovery, or therapeutic activities that help one heal. Just as nepenthe provided mythical relief, these modern "potions" help individuals gradually let go of their heartache and find happiness again.

✦ PAIRING: daniel ricciardo x famous!latina!reader

✦ PIT BOARD: social media au | ✦ FC: becky g

✦ TRACK LIMITS: female!reader, latina!reader, age gap, language, drama, internet meanies.

✦ MAY'S RADIO: holi, loves! sorry for the long wait, adult life is a bitch. Hope y'all like this chapter because I'm not fully convinced I like it yet lol if there's any mistake...it's 02:21 a.m. and I'm dead on my feet but I was set on posting this today. If you've been playing attention to my easter eggs, you'd have seen this coming 😜 Pretty please tell me your thoughts!! I’ve been stewing on this for like two months so I beg of you to reply/reblog/send me an ask (anon or not!!) telling me what you thought!! Feeds me!! Also, shoutout to Nonnie!!! can't wait to read what you think of this 🙊❤️ Anyways, eat up, babes.

< previous chapter | series masterlist | general masterlist

JULY 1, 2022

⇥ tiktok search: y/n l/n sings devuélveme el corazón

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JULY 15, 2022

⥂ translation:

- Hey, friend! How are you? + Kuniii! What a surprise! I'm good, and you? What have you been up to? - Everything is fine here in Miami, enjoying a little bit of the sun. Listen, we haven't seen each other in a while. Aug 7 is City's first game of the season at the Etihad and I was invited. With Sofi we thought about taking you with us, so are you in? + Sounds great, Kuni! I've never been to the Etihad. But I don't know. Lately, things hasn't been going well for me with all the negative attention. I'm not sure if being in the public eye would be for the best. - I get it, Y/N. But c'mon, you should come! We'll be in a private box, far away from the paparazzis. No one is gonna bother you there, I promise. Besides, Sofi and I are gonna make you have a great time! + I don't know, Kun. To be honest, more drama is the last thing I want. - That's why I'm telling you this. It will be good for you to have a change of scenery, enjoy a good game and be with friends! And, we miss you. Sofi is already planning a great day for you. You can't let people's opinions to affect you like that. You have to live your life and enjoy it. Come with us, it will do you good. + To be fair, I do need a break. I'm gonna think about it and I'll give you my answer soon! - There's nothing to think about, Y/N! Come with us and let's have a spectacular weekend. Sofi and I are gonna take care of you and make sure you have a great time! + Ok ok, alright. I'm going! It's gonna be great seeing you and Sofi again. What should I bring? - Awesome! Just bring good vibes, a crazy desire to have a good time and something blue to support City. You come to Miami and and we leave in the jet, is that alright? We will coordinate better later. + Oki! I'm already excited! Thank you, Kuni. I really needed this! - That's what friends are for! I promise you that it will be very good for you! See you soon! + See you soon! Thank you for everything!

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JULY 29, 2022

liked by lewishamilton, daddyyankee, thalia and 2,145,873 others

yourinstagram que digan lo que sea, yo subo y bajo como la marea 🌊✨🧿

⥂ translation: let them say whatever, I rise and fall like the tide 🌊✨🧿

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fioamato Se tratan de montar y tambalean 🎶🐸☕

itsvittoriasousa Muchos la critican sin conocerla 💅🏼 iamdannaschwarz Se merece tanto y recibe tan poco 😤 andrew_allen Calle como un Civic, inteligente como un Tesla 🚗 sebastianyatra Mírala cómo camina, lo que le falta es la tarima 👀 yourinstagram No pidas rosas si no aguantas espinas!! 🥀

sebastianyatra q hdptaaa fiesta con la familyyyy 🫠🩵

llane ah con que así son las cosas, acá ya a uno no lo invitan 🙄 (⥂ translation: ah so that's how it is, here's someone who doesn't get invited)

rickymontaner brother somos dos 🙄 (⥂ translation: brother same) sebastianyatra conozco unos manes que no contestan el gc 🙄 (⥂ translation: i know some guys who don't answer the gc) ricardomontaner mau y ricky + llane + sebas + y/n = peligro por donde lo mires 😂❤️ (⥂ translation: danger wherever you look at it) yourinstagram ricardomontaner pero like in the best way, tío 😝❤️

user i absolutely love how her friends are singing the lyrics of bad bunny's song in the comments 😂

userA user even Vitto's bf commented too 😂 userB user they are really specific lyrics tho 🙊

user2 Daniel can't really outrun her, can he? 😂

soficalzetti divina! te extraño 💕

user3 is that HamilGOAT???

badbunnypr Y/N, sé tú y que se mame' un bicho las personas ❤️

yourinstagram ❤️🤘🏽

user4 Andrea is honestly my fav BB song 😭

user5 not me trying to zoom in to read those 🔥 lyrics bc ya know my girl is cooking the baddest album in history 😎

user7 I tried to like this twice once I saw that first photo DAMN 😮

user8 first pic is giving mermaid baddie/H2O vibes

user9 my boy DR fumbled hard 😵‍💫 wdym he just woke up one day next to this woman and decided he wanted smth else??? like ??? bro u ok????? 🤯

lewishamilton surfing ✅📋 next time we are sky diving sis 🪂

yourintagram time and place I'll be there brother 😛 roscoelovescoco can you's take me's with you's?

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AUGUST 7, 2022

Instagram

yourinstagram has added to their story!

⥂ translation 1: Going to a game with Kun is having a sports commentator explaining every play and probability, and who is who on the field.

⥂ translation 2: The boy is happy with the result of the match.

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yourinstagram has followed rubendias!

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AUGUST 18, 2022

liked by honeymoon, danielricciardo, rubendias and 3,145,873 others

yourinstagram Happi happi ⭐️ note to self: you da bidi bidi bom bom ✨

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user DANIEL LIKED!!!!!! MY DAN-YN HEART ❤️😭

userA Mom and Dad; Divorced but never forgotten 😭🖐 userB girl don't, he's not welcome here 😤 userC does this means he agrees she was too much of a bad bitch for his weak ass to handle? 🤣

user2 stay 🤺 the fuck 🤺 away 🤺 you 🤺 unemployed driver 🤺

userA unemployed driver is cold. it's not even official yet buddy userB lmao her replacement better not see his like on our queen's photos 😂 userC homie must be hiding somewhere and crying staring at these photos because she looks 🔥��🔥

user3 Literally the love of my life. She's so cute and energetic

user4 you deserve real happiness and loyalty...Don't you ever settle!

juliamichaels hot DAMN

camila_cabello hot DIGGITY DAMN

user5 I'm so glad Daniel dumped her 🗿

beberexha ok hottie!! ❤️🔥

lizzo Everyone STOP TALKING I'm trying to stare at Y/N

blakelively Absolutely fking stunning wowowow

yourinstagram let me hit u with the uno reverse card

user6 this may sound cheesy but you're literally one of the prettiest women I've ever seen 💕

yourinstagram user5 that's so unbelievably kind

sza FACE CARD NEVER DECLINES

user7 i'm single you single... let's make it happen 😍

iamdannaschwarz we live for that smile

user8 such an attention seeker 🤡 because she ain't getting that man back in this life lol

user she is so obsessed with him i swear she's pathetic yourinstagram I don't really care what you think of me because first of all, if you really don't like me, what are you guys doing wasting your time on my page? tell me who's obsessed with who?

user9 Why not? 😭

userA i think when mfs bag a baddie they dont kno how to act right 😭 im not sure sum like that userB userA correct and when they do get a girl like that they leave her for way less userC Lmaoooo frr

user queen is in her idgaf era and I'm fucking here for it!!!

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AUGUST 22, 2022

Instagram

yourinstagram has added to their story!

rubendias has added to their story!

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AUGUST 24, 2022

liked by fioamato and 1,147,693 others

f1 BREAKING: Daniel Ricciardo will leave McLaren at the end of the 2022 season

#F1 #Formula1 mclaren

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user See you later 👏👏

user2 that's called karma

user3 Only McLaren? Why not f1? The queu of young talented drivers is long

user4 So sad that they decided only bet to Lando. All best to Daniel I wish you find better place.

user5 I’m glad I never bought an orange shirt… where are we off to next Dan?

user6 LMAO NOT FIO LIKING THIS POST 🤣

userA that's iconic behavior ngl

user7 and you all were calling y/n a flop, oh how the tables have turned lmaooooo

user8 man lost the greatest woman he could've pulled and now he lost his seat and all in the same year 🤡

user9 mclaren you know this is the best guy you have right? It's not his fault your car is inconsistent. This is not 2021 where you had your car figured out.....this is a bad pr piece for you as well as a bad marketing look since danielricciardo has a look far beyond what your brand reach is. Fire your marketing team as they have failed you...

user10 $21 million going away present?

user11 Honestly Vettel said it best “mclaren didn’t bring the best out of him” I just hope he gets a place in 2023 and does well

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SEPTEMBER 11, 2022

Instagram

yourinstagram has added to their story!

rubendias has added to their story!

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SEPTEMBER 21, 2022

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OCTOBER 6, 2022

⥂ translation:

— salmahayek Happy birthday, my precious girl! You are a light in the lives of everyone who knows you. I'm here for you always! — jbalvin Happy birthday, lil sis. Many blessings to you always! — sebastianyatra Happy birthday, Penguin! I keep your friendship like a treasure that will always be with me. I feel lucky to know that big heart you have. I love you a lot, Pulga (Flea)!

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liked by rubendias, aliciakeys, alejandrosanz and 2,756,378 others

yourinstagram Thank you 23, you taught me so much. You brought me so much courage, inspiration, & healing. You reminded me that life is too short. You have brought me even closer to my true self & made me realize just how strong I am. I will remember you as the year that reminded me that living life on anyone else’s terms isn’t living… You taught me to do ME, with grace, love, and kindness. Thank you to everyone who wished me a Happy Birthday, I love you all. And, of course, a very special thank you to my favorite people in the 🌍 for going above and beyond to make me feel so loved, appreciated, & cared for. Bienvenido 24, un placer conocerte 🥳 ps: had lots of cakes this year, I couldn't be happier!! 😍

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natalie_pinkham Happiest of birthdays to the most gorgeous of gals ❤️🥳🥂🎉

yourinstagram natalie_pinkham thank you Nat! Lots of love ❤️❤️

nina ❤️❤️❤️

parishilton happy birthday angel girl ❤️

bohnes happy birthday rockstar 🎉

markhoppus HDB kid 💥

annemarie Make a wish! 🎂✨ Hope all your birthday dreams come true ❤️

lilymhe You are such a beautiful soul, inside and out, and I’m so grateful to have you in my life ❤️

luisfonsi Wishing you an amazing day and a year full of blessings. ¡Un fuerte abrazo!

keleighteller You bring so much joy and light into the lives of everyone around you ✨

anitta feliz aniversário, meu amor! Beijos! 💖

shawnmendes Hope your day is as incredible as you are ❤️ Keep shining! 🌟

daddyyankee ¡Feliz cumpleaños, Y/N! Espero que tengas un día espectacular y un año lleno de éxitos

jenniferaniston Wishing you a day filled with joy, love, and all your favorite things. Have an amazing year ahead! 💖✨

tomholland2013 Happy Birthday, Y/N! 🎉🎂

sofiavergara ¡Feliz cumpleaños, Y/N! Que tengas un día maravilloso lleno de amor y alegría 💃🏻✨

zacefron Have a fantastic day and an even better year. Enjoy every moment! 💫

niallhoran happy birthday 🍻

selenagomez Happy Birthday angel! 🎉 Sending you lots of love and positive vibes on your special day ❤️

kellinquinn Happy Birthday, Y/N! Rock on and have an amazing day!

kellyclarkson May your day be filled with love, laughter, and everything you desire. Cheers to you! 💖✨

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NOVEMBER 3, 2022

liked by rubendias, landonorris, juliaanalvarez and 2,145,873 others

yourinstagram He(art)

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sasha__rebecca 💙

itsvittoriasousa i like it, picasso

chloestroll what a gorgeous piece of art and the picasso is cute ig

user NOOOOOO WE CANT LOSE OUR MOTHER TO ANOTHER FOOTBALLER

juliaanalvarez 😎🆒

user2 I admire Y/N’s faith in love, no matter how many times she’s heartbroken and let down she still falls in love like it’s the very first time and I think this is how it should be because every single love and relationship is different and unique and should be approached as such

user agree. especially because she's not actually the crazy, guy obsessed girl the media and haters paint her as. she's falling in love when it makes sense, she's not out searching for whirlwind romances and toxic guys. she writes about it bc it's REAL anyway i hope she finds her person one day. first loves lasting forever is nice but isn't possible for most people and that's fine. i think her healthy approach is a great influence on her younger fans who fantasise about love and life just like she did

user3 girlie sure loves her athletes lmao

userA she sure loves the number 3 🤪 userB she once said it was her lucky number and apparently she was really serious about that 🤣

user4 alexa play you belong with me (taylor's version) by taylor swift 😠

user5 watch her ruin him like she ruined daniel

user6 this girl is trying so hard to stay relevant lmao bitch you are a gold digging whore and a massive flop, doesn't matter whose dick you're riding now 🤣

user7 when do we think they're hard launching we already know it's rúben 😂

userA she played the same game with mr. perfectly fine the last time userB MR PERFECTLY FINE OMG YOU'RE SO RIGHT "Cause I hear he's got his arm 'round a brand-new girl. I've been pickin' up my heart, he's been pickin' up her" IS SO DANIEL CODED userC ruben literally posted the same picture on his ig 😂 inconspicuousness left the chat with these two

user8 babygirl decided to stop playing in little league, she's on the big leagues now as she fucking should

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rubendias life's been good lately 😊

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user who got my boy listening to sleeping at last?

user2 Bro is winning on and off pitch

user3 i still can't believe rúben dias liked every picture she posted for years and also admitted his massive crush for her with his whole chest in a team video and ended up being y/n l/n's boyfriend a few months later

userA bro is the picture of perseverance. He played the long game and at the end, he got the girl 😎 userB he's my GOAT for a reason userC they don't make 'em like him anymore (a total simp for his girl)

jackgrealish alright romeo 🙄😂🩵

johnstones5 kunaguero 🤝🏻

kunaguero johnstones5 🤝🏻

user4 best defender in the world only deserves the best! 🧱

nathanake 🩵

user5 they are not even trying to hide it anymore

user6 Ru we are on the doorstep of the world cup you can't lose your focus with another pop star

userA she's definitely gonna bring him bad luck, everything she touches turns to ashes

user7 "But your heart is your masterpiece, and I'll keep it safe" THIS MOTHERFUCKER BETTER BE SERIOUS 😭

user "Your darkness will be rewritten into a work of fiction, you'll see" 😭😭 userA I'm really wishing that he's the one for her. She deserves a happy ending

user8 YOU WERE BLESSED WITH MOTHER'S HEART SO YOU BETTER PROTECT IT THROUGH THICK AND THIN, VOCÊ ENTENDE? 🤨🤺

♥ rubendias has liked this comment

user9 Mofo better keep his focus we need that 🏆!!!!

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DECEMBER 31, 2022

liked by rubendias, natalie_pinkham, shawnmendes and 2,145,873 others

yourinstagram A student of life I am. Damn it’s humbling as hell when you surrender to the fact that only thing you can control is YOURSELF. Not a person, thing or situation beyond that. Who you become in this life is 100% on you. Letting go of all that doesn’t serve you is self-care. Remember that.

2022 is a year that really marked me… It was filled with moments of all kinds. Wanted to share the ones that made me smile even in the hardest of times. Beyond thankful for the good, the bad and the ugly ❤️‍🩹

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marcusstoinis was the paint supposed to go on the wall or on yourself? 😂 scottyjames31

scottyjames31 don't talk if you don't know about art bro 🤫👨🏼‍🎨 yourinstagram marcusstoinis the technique was questionable but the painter did a good job. His partner on the other hand did a marvelous job ❤️ would recommend their job if you are moving into a new house too 👍🏽 cholestroll 😂❤️

lewishamilton see you soon for the next aventure sis 😎🪂

tinistoessel te adoro muñeca 💖

andrew_allen we might have the next Alex Morgan in our hands 😮‍💨

itsvittoriasousa she said she wants to be a champ like "unca benny" 😅 yourinstagram itsvittoriasousa nah I think she said she /wants/ unca benny, little trouble gave me the stink eye whenever I got too close and didn't let me play 😂 andrew_allen 😅

user i guess it is official official now so welcome to the family dad rubendias

user2 pics 5, 6 & 9 called me single in too many different languages 😭

user3 IZA IS GETTING SO BIG!!!!

user4 sunglasses on, hand behing her back... baby iza means business

user5 OMG IT'S ED!!! ARE U GUYS COLLABING AGAIN???!!! 😭😍

user6 I really hope next year she is as active on sm as she was before, I miss her too much 🥺

user7 shut up they are the fucking cutest couple already 😍

user8 this is what she deserves!! looots of love and someone who knows how to treat a queen right

rubendias Mô ❤️

userA EEEEEEEEEEKKK!!! 😍😭😍😭 userB any portuguese or brazilian kind enough to tell us what he means? 😩 userC It's an informal abbreviation of "amor" (love), he is calling her love ❤️

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─── Please don't forget to reblog and/or comment! ♡

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sanctum-of-ramshackle · 1 year ago

Text

🕷️🕸️The Chaotic Adventures of Spider-Mage✨🌟

[TWST AU]: The MC/Yuu may not be only one who encountered an unexpected turn of events.

[Synopsis]: In this timeline, an unknown stranger gets bitten by a spider that actually gave them spider-based magic to become Twisted Wonderland’s Spider-Hero.

[Gender Neutral!Spider!Reader]

[(A/N)]: Happy New Year! I’m sorry I haven’t been posting much on my TWST blog. Been busy IRL and stuff like that. I hope this makes up for missing out and enjoy reading.

So…about the Arachnohumanoid Polymultiverse- This is a stupid name. I don’t know why O’Hara chose this over the Spiderverse. That name makes more sense and easier for people who can’t decipher scientific names right away…

Anyway…

There are many variants and other dimensions who have their own spider like protectors.

There’s one particular Spider who has an interesting upbringing with their situation.

Maybe it’s better to let them introduce themselves to the people reading this…

[Y/N]: “My name is [Y/N] [L/N]. I’m a Second Year of Night Raven College and part of the Ignihyde Dorm. One day during last year, I get bit by an experimental and magical arachnid which granted me spider-based magic. I became to the public as “Spider-Mage”.

“I climb up on flat surfaces, having a Spider sense to alarm me for potential danger, the usual things.”

“I created an algorithm to alert me for crimes occurring and use my newfound powers by casting web-like portals to reach to that specific location.”

“Following my backstory: I was raised by my aunt and uncle, Aunt Mei and Uncle Benji. However, Uncle Benji passed away due to saving someone from an Overblot attack. He asked me if I were to become somebody having great magic, listen to his advice. With great power, comes with great responsibility.”

♢🕷️ ♢🕷️ ♢🕷️ ♢🕷️ ♢🕷️ ♢🕷️ ♢🕷️ ♢🕷️ ♢🕷️ ♢🕷️ ♢🕷️ ♢🕷️ ♢🕷️ ♢🕷️ ♢🕷️

[Chapter 1]

OB!Riddle: *On a rampage* YOU ALL WILL BE OFF WITH YOUR HEADS!!!! *Throws a rose bush towards MC/Yuu and Grim*

MC/Yuu & Grim: *Gasps and embrace for impact*

[Then a mysterious figure jumps into action. They cast a magical web barrier to protect MC/Yuu and Grim from the thrown plant.]

Spider-Mage: *Looks back at the two Ramshackle students* It’s okay. I got you two.

OB!Riddle: WHAT IN THE QUEEN’S NAME? WHO ARE YOU?!

Spider-Mage: Hi! I’m Spider-Mage. The friendly arachnid type magic user you hear people talk about. Y’know, you have some serious issues and hopefully seek anger management after this.

OB!Riddle: *Throws another bush at them*

Spider-Mage: *Shoots web at the bush and triggers a fire spell to burn the plant to ashes* Bad idea, buddy.

♢🕷️ ♢🕷️ ♢🕷️ ♢🕷️ ♢🕷️ ♢🕷️ ♢🕷️ ♢🕷️ ♢🕷️ ♢🕷️ ♢🕷️ ♢🕷️ ♢🕷️ ♢🕷️ ♢🕷️

MC/Yuu & Grim: *Running late for class*

MC/Yuu: *Carrying Grim in their arms* You just have to try sleeping in.

Grim: It’s not my fault I was studying late!

MC/Yuu: You were cramming for an exam today!

Spider-Mage: *Just saved some people from a robbery* Huh? The Prefect and their familiar?

MC/Yuu: Spider-Mage? Hey! We’re late for our morning class and it’s at the other side of the building.

Spider-Mage: Need a lift?

MC/Yuu: Of course! Thank you.

[Cut to a scene where MC/Yuu and Grim were dropped off to their class and have messed up hairdos from all the swinging around.]

♢🕷️ ♢🕷️ ♢🕷️ ♢🕷️ ♢🕷️ ♢🕷️ ♢🕷️ ♢🕷️ ♢🕷️ ♢🕷️ ♢🕷️ ♢🕷️ ♢🕷️ ♢🕷️ ♢🕷️

[Ignihyde Dormitory]

[Y/N]: *Crawling back into their dorm without disturbing anyone* *Lands on their feet from the ceiling and stalks over through the hallways*

Idia: Ortho, did you get my- *Stops mid-track and eyes widened at them* …

[Y/N]: …It’s not what it looks like. *Deactivates their suit*

[Y/N]: *Looks down at their body* Shit.

Idia: Y-Y-You’re Spider-Ma-

[Y/N]: *Shushing him* Don’t say another word. I’ll explain everything somewhere private.

[Back in Idia’s room]

Idia: You’re Spider-Mage.

[Y/N]: Yes, I am. I got these abilities last year and then bam! I’m a magic superhero.

Idia: You kept all of this from me?

[Y/N]: Well, I tried to explain everything to you since you’re my Dorm Leader but duty calls and assignments.

Idia: …I still can’t believe one of my dorm members is Spider-Mage.

[Y/N]: It’s alright. It’s a lot to take in.

♢🕷️ ♢🕷️ ♢🕷️ ♢🕷️ ♢🕷️ ♢🕷️ ♢🕷️ ♢🕷️ ♢🕷️ ♢🕷️ ♢🕷️ ♢🕷️ ♢🕷️ ♢🕷️ ♢🕷️

[Rose Queendom]

Spider-Mage: *Shooting webs and swinging around the city* *Lands onto of an apartment complex’s rooftop*

Fan 1: Oh my Seven, It’s Spider-Mage! *Pulls out their phone* Hey Spider-Mage, can you do a flip?

Spider-Mage: *Does a flip*

Fan 1: *Recorded the whole* Thank you, Spider-Mage! I’m showing this to my friends.

Spider-Mage: No problem! Tell your friends I said hello!

♢🕷️ ♢🕷️ ♢🕷️ ♢🕷️ ♢🕷️ ♢🕷️ ♢🕷️ ♢🕷️ ♢🕷️ ♢🕷️ ♢🕷️ ♢🕷️ ♢🕷️ ♢🕷️ ♢🕷️

[In the hallways]

Kalim: Hi [Y/N]!

[Y/N]: Oh, hey, Kalim! Uh…What’s up? How was your break?

Kalim: You wouldn’t believe who came by. Spider-Mage came to rescue Jamil and everyone. They were amazing! They shot their magical webs and swung around kicking off the ‘Blot!

[Y/N]: Really? That’s crazy. “Great Seven. I’m jealous of myself…(T . T) Fuck me…”

♢🕷️ ♢🕷️ ♢🕷️ ♢🕷️ ♢🕷️ ♢🕷️ ♢🕷️ ♢🕷️ ♢🕷️ ♢🕷️ ♢🕷️ ♢🕷️ ♢🕷️ ♢🕷️ ♢🕷️

[Monstro Lounge]

[Y/N]: *Working there to fill in a deal*

Floyd: [Y/N]-chan/kun~ *About to squeeze them*

[Y/N]: *Spider sense triggered and kicks back at Floyd in the stomach*

Floyd: OOF- *Crashes into Jade*

[Y/N]: Crap! I’m sorry, you two. I’m just on edge today.

Azul: What is going on here? *Sees Floyd and Jade on the ground*

[Y/N]: I’m so sorry, Azul. I’m just super anxious today and Floyd was about to squeeze the shit out of me.

Azul: …Why don’t you take a half day off? You claimed you’re anxious enough to beat the two most valuable people in my dorm.

[Y/N]: Yes! That’s true and I’m going now. *Sprints out of the restaurant* “Fuck me and my Spider sense! I need to lie better.”

♢🕷️ ♢🕷️ ♢🕷️ ♢🕷️ ♢🕷️ ♢🕷️ ♢🕷️ ♢🕷️ ♢🕷️ ♢🕷️ ♢🕷️ ♢🕷️ ♢🕷️ ♢🕷️ ♢🕷️

[Afterglow Savannah]

Spider-Mage: *Battling against a weird-looking guy with lightning bolt accessories*

The Shocker: Well well well, love the new look Spider-Man.

Spider-Mage: Uh…Who? I’m not Spider-Man.

The Shocker: Oh, I see. Playing dumb to distract me.

Spider-Mage: Great Seven. Dude, I don’t know what you’re talking about. Let’s just get this over with. I have clubs to attend.

[The Shocker charges at Spider-Mage throwing rays of electricity at the magic user.]

Spider-Mage: *Shoots their web casting a Water spell to absorb the attack* Think fast! *Shoots the water spell at The Shocker*

[The water spell webbing was effective to short circuit the electrified villain.]

Spider-Mage: Now I can leave.

[Then a portal opens in front of Spider-Mage.]

Spider-Mage: What the…

[Three people appear out of the portal and they’re picking the unconscious Shocker anomaly.]

Spider-Mage: Uh… *Spider sense triggered*

???: Wow. Another Spider variant in this dimension.

???: Yeah, and explain what we’re doing here.

???: While also grabbing the anomaly who’s waking up. *Knocks The Shocker out*

♢🕷️ ♢🕷️ ♢🕷️ ♢🕷️ ♢🕷️ ♢🕷️ ♢🕷️ ♢🕷️ ♢🕷️ ♢🕷️ ♢🕷️ ♢🕷️ ♢🕷️ ♢🕷️ ♢🕷️

[After [Y/N] was taken to the Spider Society on Earth-928, everything was explained to them and how their Canon Events will happen.]

[Y/N]: Y-You can’t be serious. I couldn’t let it happen. There has to be another way.

Miguel O’Hara: There are no other ways-

[Y/N]: You’re wrong! The multiverse is wrong! I’m doing everything I can to prevent any more disasters back in my already chaotic world. I can’t lose him…

Peter B. Parker: Kid, everything’s gonna be alright.

[Y/N]: Tell that to “Leader of the Spider Society”. I’m going and won’t stop until everyone’s safe.

[[Y/N] casts a spell to disappear from everyone’s sight.]

♢🕷️ ♢🕷️ ♢🕷️ ♢🕷️ ♢🕷️ ♢🕷️ ♢🕷️ ♢🕷️ ♢🕷️ ♢🕷️ ♢🕷️ ♢🕷️ ♢🕷️ ♢🕷️ ♢🕷️

Arachnis: No no no Miguel. *Blocks his path* Do not chase the teen like last time with Miles.

Miguel: They can’t interfere with the Canon Events. Their world would already start falling apart.

Arachnis: Miguel, you don’t know that. Remember when I saved you from your supposed event? My Canon Event overlapped with yours which should interfere but didn’t, preventing your untimely death. What if [Y/N] can save their friends and loved ones like us? We almost lost everyone when we were against The Spot.

Miguel: *Glare softens and sighs* I don’t want this kid to make the same mistakes.

Arachnis: I know. It’s tough to accept the possibility, but we been through this before. Doing everything we can to help others. Hey, look at me.

[As the Spider-Man of 2099 and Arachnis share an intimate moment, [Y/N] ran back because they dropped their Magic Pen.]

[Y/N]: Uhh…Is this a bad time?

Arachnis: Kid, I’m gonna shoot your ass if you don’t rush back to save your world.

[Y/N]: Right! Sorry! *Sprints out of their sight*

✨[Reblogs helps creators and creates for more content]💫

[Tagged]: @windblume-wishes @hhurric4ne @theladyheroine

#disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland #twst #twst au #Marvel #Spider-Man: Across The Spiderverse #Across The Spiderverse #ATSV #Spider-Man!Reader #Spider-Mage #Across The Spiderverse x reader #ATSV x reader #twisted wonderland scenarios #twst scenarios #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader

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gallaghersgal · 6 months ago

Note

Hi there! How are we doing on this fine sunday? I spent the day at the beach and of course, that gave me some ideas so ahem ahem ✨beach day with carmy bear✨

First let’s talk about the most obvious thing ever but…this man looks HAWT okay?!!? He already does on a daily basis, doing the most regular things ever but at the beach????? 74 dead, 192 injured.

anyway yeah he looks really good but also:

You manage to whisk him away for a few days, just the two of you to relax and you rent a small house by the beach. Your goal is basically to get him to slow down a bit, catch up on some sleep and have fun, you know?That in itself is tough because he!!cannot!!relax!!!!!!!!! But he’s also very very in love so he agrees for a weekend away.

He carries all the bags because he was raised a gentleman and there’s no way you lift one pretty finger of yours k?

You insist on putting sunscreen on his back and face and okay maybe it’s just an excuse to give him a nice massage and maybe he knows that but plays along too

But he’s just as protective, always making sure you’re hydrated and you’re wearing your hat if you’re seating in the sun.

i might be almost 21 but playing in the waves!!!!!! and making sand castles!!!!! at first he might think it’s a little silly but not in a mean way, just the kind of thing he doesn’t think of to have fun because he just doesn’t have fun yk? but he helps you and realizes it is actually fun. it definitely turns into a competition btw and you end up both winning and eating ice cream as a reward.

Playing cards too!! i feel like he knows one or two great cars games that he’d teach you, something he got from Mickey or Cousin maybe?

also napping on the beach. he lays his head on your belly while you read and you’re playing with his hair and the weather is nice and it’s actually pretty good to feel the sun on his skin and—when you notice he’s sleeping, you don’t move, just let him take whatever he needs.

you 100% make sure to take a billion pictures of him, of the two of you (you send one of him sleeping to nat <3) and he tries to take aesthetic pictures of you, he snaps a few more just to keep for himself.

a lot of talking too!!! he’s been working a lot, you too, life got in the way so you take the time to catch up—you tell him about the new show you want to start with him, he tells you about a flea market he’d like to check out. It feels nice to catch up and somehow it reassures him? Like his anxiety gets too much and he’s scared you might be unhappy but then you talk and you tell him you love him and you want to do things with him and his chest feels less heavy.

who says day at the beach, says watching the sunset together. of course it’s beautiful but carmy keeps looking at you and the way the light seems to hit your features so perfectly well because he’s a sap.

You get a little cold and he’s instantly handing you his sweater. And I just know his heart melts when you nuzzle closer to him <3

I love to think he’d stay up at night to listen to the ocean. He can’t sleep because his mind is too loud so he goes on the little patio and listens to the sounds of the waves on the shore. Maybe you join him, rest your head on his shoulder and enjoy the moment with him. he hasn’t felt this happy in a long time.

-🧸

hey so something you don't know about me is that i love the beach more than literally any other place on earth!!!!! i went to the OBX a lot as a kid and it shaped me into the woman i am today!!!!! i love the beach!!!!!!!!!!!! i even had a finnpoe beach au that was like. god. it was at minimum 10k words and it wasn't even complete yet. i would just work on it when at the beach house my father took me to cause there was no wifi there- but enough ab me!!!!!

i agree that baby boy canNOT relax, poor thing. but you could talk him into it saying he can try all kinds of new restaurants and get some ideas for a seafood course for the bear menu <33 and ughhh i just. staying in a cutie little beach house with him!!! i used to go to the beach every year and when i got old enough to really appreciate the whole day, my fav thing became evening walks and i know those would sooth his soul sooo much

"there’s no way you lift one pretty finger of yours k?" i will sob??? i will actually cry and scream and roll around on the floor???? god i just. carmen carrying your bags upstairs to the house while you take stock of all the general beach things available in the shed underneath. yall know how beach houses are on stilts? yeah like that. and placing your shampoo and body wash and things in the outdoor shower so it can be used first thing, because once everything is unloaded all you wanna do is walk down to the ocean and once you're there, well, who isn't gonna jump in!

massaging the sunscreen into his back, the way he would sigh a little, and you can press soft kisses to his cheek as you do so. ugh i looveeeee him!!!! he would be so so protective, making sure there's plenty of snacks, and if you're hungry he'll walk the beach with you until you find a little sandwich shop or taco place for whatever you wanna eat. he's confused at first why you're making a sand castle, preferring to sit and read his book, but suddenly he's finished with a chapter and spending time with his girl seems so much more fun, so before he knows it he's packing wet sand into the mould sitting across from you, sandy shins and messy hair, but he's all smiley too

the poor thing would get so exhausted from playing in the waves, probably bc he's not used to it. swimming in the ocean really takes it out of you!! so when you're laid out under the umbrella reading he grumbles like "babe, lemme... c'mere," and tugs you just a little closer to rest his head on your tummy :((( playing with his curls while they dry from the salt water, forming them into perfect little spirals, putting a little braid here and there

just talking to each other and catching up in such a relaxed setting is so sweet im gonna sob. maybe y'all snagged a beachfront place so you can watch the sun set over the water ((i have never seen this... #eastcoast)) while you're sitting on the rlly comfy deck chairs, he's got a beer and you've got a little cocktail he made you, and you're playing cards and chatting about what's been going on lately. just sitting out there together listening to the waves, wrapped up in his sweater from his culinary school i- i genuinely cannot. i love him and i love the beach. I LOVE HIM AND I LOVE THE BEACH!!!!!!!

tldr; me and 🧸 love the beach and carmy so much

#🧸 anon fanfics when #you've inspired me hella #my google doc is staring at me expectantly #❀ anons: 🧸#letters [asks]#carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto imagine #carmen berzatto fluff #my michelin star [carmy]

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viivenn · 1 year ago

Text

drunken stupor. (lucifer morningstar x named!reader)

in which the lightbringer and a very inebriated jophiel converse solemnly about their melancholic tumbles from grace.

content and warnings: excessive alcohol consumption, swearing, angst of course. the reader in this is named jophiel and lucifer’s fall is not lore accurate because i wanted them to be able to empathize with the reader at least a bit. just sad lesbians being sad lesbians guys !❤️❤️

word count: about 2,963 give or take.

✨special thanks to @agathaandgwenslesbian , my biggest inspiration.

— “ walk with me, little lamb…

𖤐

your fall from grace was less than justified.

scrubbing the Morning Star’s quartz floors with fury, you reminisced about your time in heaven, your once beautiful wings, plumed and well groomed with beautiful white feathers and a holy glow that you wore so, so well. now you had no wings, just stubs that once were soft appendages that signified your sacred position in the gates of heaven. how you missed the bright light of the heavens, the smell of chrysanthemums and what you could only describe as purity that filled your senses. the heavenly experience was truly something you longed for again.

but you were being punished. you were being punished because you had feelings, feelings for a mortal and you acted upon them with great sin. you felt stupid. you cursed yourself. stupid, stupid, stupid. every day you spent in Lucifer’s kingdom you dreaded, and the longer you were there the more you longed for your mortal companion whom you assumed had moved on by now as all mortals do. that thought pained you.

and that Morning Star, the Lord of Lies, the Lightbringer - to you, the light-take-away-er. if the scent of sulfur and rotting wood and burning flesh in the air wasn’t enough, you had Lucifer over your shoulder almost constantly, their piercing blue eyes observing, watching, all-seeing and all-knowing of every thought you had about the place. and they absolutely relished in your suffering, which made you all the more infuriated.

what seemed to make you the angriest though was why Lucifer bothered to pester you about how you fell. after all, they didn’t give two fucks about you, your position, your job, how you felt. you constantly refused to tell them, which made them ask more, and more, and more, and more, until they made you snap like a weak tether. until you would scream at them to stop asking, beg them to stop being so fucking nosy so you could wallow in self pity without being mocked and bothered by your fall. and yet they did not care, and carried on anyways.

today was different. you finished your duties, setting the scrub brush back into your bucket and dusting off your white robe that the lightbringer picked for you - and specifically for you, you noticed, because everyone else dressed in a darker solid color. you sighed and lifted the heavy bucket of suds, straining your arms to some extent before a gentle hand laid itself on your shoulder. well, speak of the devil.

“wonderful to see you working so hard, sweetling. i take it you’ve finished your chores, hm?” their voice rang like a gong against your eardrums. you grumbled, turning slowly on your heels to face them.

“yes, my lord.” you answered plainly, gazing down at the dirty soapy liquid in your bucket.

“well… you know, Jophiel, i never thought i would find myself commending you for your hard work, but you’ve polished my floors wonderfully. they’re so pretty, aren’t they? pure quartz tiles. white and angelic.” they wore a small grin, eyes examining you and your figure. that comment seemed to have struck a nerve with you as your brows furrowed, which only made them chuckle in response.

“is there anything else you plan to assign to me, my lord…” you asked with a clenched jaw, feeling like you would’ve blown a gasket then and there.

“why, yes, there is. walk with me, little lamb.” Lucifer held out their hand for you to take, which you did not. their smile faded as they lowered their hand. you set the bucket down, staying close to them, refusing to look at them.

you and Lucifer walked in silence, treading to their chambers. they did not typically allow servants such as yourself in their space, as they seemed to be extremely anxious about it being kept private, but seeing as how they only took interest in you, you knew you were an exception to their peculiar rule of ‘my eyes only’. entering the room bombarded you with… pleasantry, which surprised you, and you gave lucifer a short glance, perking a brow as you looked around and took in the scenery and new scent.

for the first time since you fell you smelled something sweeter than sulfur, something less putrid than rot and death. this was comforting, a sultry vanilla and spice. of course you had never been in here before, why would you be? the newness of it all was almost overwhelming. lucifer took a seat in the sofa nearest the fireplace, leaning forward to pat the chair across from them in which you assumed you were supposed to sit in. as you plopped down into the seat you felt nearly swallowed by the comfortable cushion of the chair, the soft texture of the arms. you gazed around the room again, admiring the carved marble of their fireplace, and their neatly made bed, which they probably made themselves. you didn’t blame them for that.

as much as you hate to admit it, they had quite the sense of decoration and knew what sort of furniture belonged where. it reminded you of your mortal companion’s home… how you missed her.

“my lord,” you cleared your throat, but you dared not make eye contact with them, knowing your place after it was beaten into you by Mazikeen, “why have you called me here… are you going to make a fool of me again? ask me about how i fell?”

the Lightbringer chuckled, reaching for the bottle of wine and two conveniently placed glasses from the small side table next to them, pouring you a glass and one for themself. “no, sweet Jophiel. i think i’ve been going about it all wrong, we are strangers after all, hm? tell me about yourself.”

no. you weren’t strangers. you knew who they were and they knew well who you were by now. you just… did not know enough about them, and they didn’t know much about you besides what they could force out of you.

“i was heaven’s messenger.” you muttered, cautiously taking the glass of crimson liquid they handed to you. “i was one of the elite, the favored, the most beautiful divine.”

“tell me something i haven’t already heard.” they took a small sip from their own glass, side eyeing the fireplace for a moment. “i hear that all the time, what makes you special?”

you were at a loss of words, truly, nearly angered again as they uttered that sentence. you would dare call them blasphemous, but not to their face, or to anyone else. you grumbled as you chose your next words carefully. “i’m special because i nearly had a chance to return.”

Lucifer’s color drained from their face, as if their porcelain skin could get any lighter. for a moment they glared at you with a fire that burned like a thousand furious suns. that was their dream. that’s what they’ve been longing for this whole time and their fucking servant gets the chance? “and, how did you manage to accomplish that feat?”

“i was simply close with the messenger angels. we were all tight knit and spent most of our time together.” you shrugged, finishing off your glass of wine as your eyes slowly met Lucifer’s exasperated gaze.

their look suddenly softened, and a gentle smile pursed their lips. “i’m happy you received that chance. i’m sure you were beyond disappointed with the idea that you were ineligible in the end?”

“i was.” you nodded slowly, watching curiously as Lucifer leaned forward to fill your glass again. this time there was more, as they seemed to no longer care how much you consumed, their sudden pang of hatred towards you creating thick tension.

“what a shame.” they handed you the bottle, not feeling up to another glass as they set theirs to the side. you watched them tap two long fingers against their knee, thinking carefully about their next words. what would they say to you? their eyes occasionally flicked to the bottle of wine in your hands as you poured glass after glass in awkward silence, the silence slowly becoming comfortable silence as you felt warmth rise in your chest, your cheeks flushing, the world around you appearing as though you had astigmatism.

finally breaking the silence you spoke up, drunken thoughts becoming drunken confessions as your soft sigh caught the Lightbringer’s attention. “i miss her.”

“miss whom?” Lucifer asked, perplexed by the randomness of that statement, leaning back against the sofa cushions.

“my mortal…” your speech didn’t slur yet. your mortal? Lucifer was interested now, their attention focused on nothing but you.

“you… loved a mortal?” they blinked, crossing one leg over the other, piecing two and two together.

“yes, loved her so deep, so pure, s’one of the purest mortals…” you looked into the bottom of the bottle, hoping to drown your confessions with more of the red liquor, but the bottle was empty.

“what was her name?” Lucifer asked quietly, hoping they hadn’t overstepped.

“s’was uh…mmm. Destiny.” her name rolled off your tongue like you had spat up the acid from your stomach - with how drunk you were, you probably had by accident. who knew angels were light drinkers. the author certainly knew.

“Destiny…” the name echoed from the Lightbringer’s lips, the way they spoke her name with respect, and not ridicule, as the other angels had done, was relieving. “you fell because you felt for Destiny, little lamb?”

“yes, n’she’s probably looooong gone by now. she was so… she was so beautiful…” you whined. “she had pretty green eyes that brought stained glass to sh-shame, and her sk-kin was beautiful too, was dark n’speckled with porcelain patches…”

— standing before your maker, you could not pray yourself out of this situation. you were guilty and caught red handed before the angelic court, not even necessary to stand trial for your sin. all of your memories played back in your mind like a cassette tape…

…the first time you saw her you were scouting souls, routine work for you, reporting back how many were to come in and how many were to go out. you decided one day to take a break - after all you chose to use a human form, to get closer to the mortals, and you could always return to your work, since you worked at a calm pace. you were fascinated by them, so you decided to be them temporarily whenever you had the chance - and you chose a library to enjoy mortal splendor, in other words, books. the librarian was her, your sweet destiny, helping you choose books, helping you read, helping you, only you in that moment…

…the last moments you spent together, you knew you had to return to heaven. she already knew your secret, already knew what you were and why you were here, and accepted it. parting ways was never easy even if you were doing simple things for her like market runs or even helping with her chores. this was no different, your last hug spent shortly, much to your dismay. you kissed her tenderly and promised her that you would return. you promised her you would come back for her. you promised you would make all of this up to her the next opportunity you got.

but that opportunity never came to you.

now as you uttered no words for your case, your fate set in stone, you gazed into the eyes of your father, who else but God to make this sort of decision, who else but he who judges the harshest in the grand scheme of all things. your eyes flicked back to your fellow angels, their eyes averted from yours, disappointment heavy in their hearts.

you closed your eyes and braced yourself for whatever punishment you were to receive, unexpected that it was to be sent to hell, banished from the heavens. you dropped to your knees and begged for forgiveness and mercy, but you were denied despite your higher status amongst the ranks. a harsh breeze enveloped you, and before you knew it you had tumbled into the gates of hell, your wings burning, nostrils on fire from the scents that filled the air and the smoke that polluted your lungs. —

Lucifer nodded as you explained, listening, as if they were a therapist holding a notepad. “im sorry, Jophiel. truly. i can’t imagine how it feels to fall from the heavens because of your adoration for a mortal with an expiration date… i only know what it’s like to fall and fall from love.”

before you drunkenly scolded them for that comment on the living, you were intrigued by that last bit. you knew Lucifer had fallen, and now that you finally gave in and told Lucifer about yours, it was only fair lucifer told you about their own, every last goddamn detail to make up for their pestering.

“tell me about your fall. i want to know. i want to know everything about it.” you narrowed your eyes on them, watching them think of something to say, before their expression softened and their smile faded.

“i don’t know if that’s wise of me to talk about little lamb.” they focused their gaze on something that wasn’t you. this made you upset.

“you don’t get ta do that to me, Lucifer Morningstar. you done nothing but pester me about how i tumbled down here, jus’ for you to not tell me what happened to you too? boooooooo.” you taunted them, but silenced yourself as they raised their hand to quiet you down.

“fine. i will tell you how the great samael fell.” they sighed and grumbled, looking pained. their fall was a heavy subject, something they had not spoken about in eons, something that they preferred not to speak about. but they supposed it was only fair.

— rebellion.

rebellion and war and love and sin, truly a long, painful battle for the Morning Star, their love for another angel, their pride and their desire for self rule. they did not like being told what to do nor when to do it, especially by God, who made them the angriest. they were the most powerful, bested only by God himself, their abilities unmatched by other angels.

this did not stray them from their love for another angel, Nephele, a soft and kind and tender soul, the only being strong enough to ground and calm the lightbringer when they began their prideful quips and spats with God, or when their tantrums grew worse because of the severity of their punishments.

their last straw came about after having been caught with nephele, tossing peony petals into the fountains and holding hands and quietly admitting their scandalous affections. they had plans to run, to escape, cast themselves out of heaven and make peace with each other’s presence for eternity, how lucifer longed deeply for such, but it never came to fruition.

pleading for forgiveness, Nephele received mercy; Lucifer would not lower themself to that degree, they chose instead to rebel and conquer and destroy. wars were fought, battles were consequential and the consequences in question were severe. heaven became a battlefield and Lucifer was at the forefront before archangel Michael struck them down with force and fear.

Lucifer feared nothing.

but on that day they feared for the life of Nephele.

worried that she would suffer more, Lucifer surrendered. archangel Michael claimed his victory and moved forward on their decision to cast Lucifer out of heaven, banishing them to a hellscape of their own fate, a product of their immense power and strength that kept them locked in for eternity.

and so, the Lord of Lies lost their spirit and their love, their new role to punish and destroy and contain their power to the best of their ability. they have never been happy since losing their faith in the divine. —

you blinked, taking in the story as best you could while being past the point of inebriation. “wow.”

“we are not all that different, you and i.” Lucifer spoke softly, easing the tension between the two of you and earning a giggle from you.

“i s’pose we aren’t, Lucifer.” you raised an empty glass as if you were toasting to that statement, leaning back into the cushions of your seat.

“thank you for telling me your story, Jophiel.” they gave a subtle nod, rising to their feet and gazing down shortly at you.

you met their eyes on you, confused, dazed, seeing two of them, your eyes darting back and forth between the two figures. the Lightbringer’s hands reached for you, their grip gentle as they lifted you under your arms and allowed you to relax in their hold as they carried you to your chambers.

“why are you bein’nice to me?” your speech slurred, and you felt like you were flying, despite Lucifer not moving fast enough to make even sober you feel such a way.

“it would be cruel of me to be unkind to you in this state.”

“but you’re the- the bloody devil, aren’t you s’posed to be evil?” you hiccuped.

“not to drunken fools.” they sighed.

“ohh.”

“mhm.”

Lucifer carefully opened the door to your room, that you had decorated to your liking, which they admired. they set you down against your mattress, watching as your eyes fluttered open and shut and open again, your brain indecisive on whether or not you were to fall asleep.

“rest your head, little lamb. you’ll forget all about this at dawn, i'm sure.” Lucifer’s voice was tempting. your eyes finally settled shut, and you succumbed to your drunken stupor, having drank yourself into unconsciousness.

they watched you fall asleep slowly, staying for some time to ensure you were okay before they let you sleep and rest off the drunken buzz.

perhaps the devil did care after all.

— 🦇🩸

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jadeylovesmarvelxo · 2 years ago

Text

You Feel Like Home To Me 💕✨

Part two to Home

Summary; Eric is sniffing around you once more which causes Eddie to have some realisations. Or alternatively, the one where Eddie gets a clue.

Warnings; Jealous Eddie, fluff, a bit of angst. 18+, minors dni. Friends to lovers, Eddie gets a clue ;)

If you enjoyed this then lmk 💕

Also is anyone experiencing trouble with the tags tonight? This is my second repost ✨ Annoying as heck 😩💕

Do not copy, reuse or repost my work.

✨💕✨💕

When you woke up after the party with a pounding headache and memories flooding back to you from last night, you were immediately embarrassed.

You told Eddie that he was so cute, that you wished he liked you. Shit!

What the hell did you say to him when you next saw him? How did you explain yourself?

Maybe you could just pass it off as being tipsy and Eddie would accept that.

You had hidden his you felt for so long so hiding it for a little longer wouldn't matter.

All you knew is Eddie had looked after you and you knew he cared for you as a friend, so in no way were you going to jeapordise that.

Somehow you had to move on from Eddie because you knew he would never return your feelings;.

💕✨💕✨

Eddie couldn't wait to see you. The new Nightmare on Elm Street movie was out and he was psyched to take you to go and see it.

Robin and Steve were coming along too and it was going to be a great night to just hang with friends, maybe smoke a little weed, bliss.

Things had been a little strange since the party, he has only saw you once since then and you hadn't brought up what you said after the party so he didn't either.

There was no way he was bringing up how you made him feel, that you felt like home because he didn't understand it himself.

Hopefully things would go back to normal soon...

What Eddie hadn't counted on was walking into Family Video and a grumpy Steve greeting him.

"Munson" he nods and Eddie claps him on the bag.

"What's up Steve? Not enough babes for you today?" he teases and Steve actually does crack a smile.

"Shit dude, it's him. He's been coming in for days. Annoying prick" Steve points to where you're working and Eddie stiffens.

Eric is there, a smarmy grin on his face and he is making you smile, the smile that's usually only reserved for him.

He doesn't like that one bit. Steve is right Eric is a prick, a handsy prick who's lucky he still has teeth after what occurred at the party.

You peer up at him and beam while rushing over to him. "Eddie"!

He never tires of the way that you light up when you see him. Your expression is what he feels inside every time he sees you.

"Hey princess. You ready for movie night?" at this point Eric struts up to you both and as you leave Eddie's arms, Eric smugly slings an arm around your shoulder.

Eddie's stomach clenches and he tries his best not to give into the urge of ripping Eric's arm right of you.

This concerns him because he's protective of you for sure but this feels so much more than that.

He's jealous, he's never been jealous at least like this anyway... This is different. The emotion fills him and all he wants to do is keep you close and away from those grabby hands of Eric's.

Coming in here. Flirting with my girl he fumes. Wait a minute... My girl.

You weren't his. Sure he thought you were smart, beautiful and sweet, amazing and funny but you weren't his

Fuck, he'd like you to be though, he really would and that's why things never worked out with Penny or Monica or any of the others.

Well shit...

💕💕

Much to your surprise, Eric had decided to join you at the movies, which had put Eddie in a foul mood.

You figured it was because Eric was encroaching on your time with Eddie.

It's not like you had met many of his dates, if you did meet them they didn't last long, Eddie never really had any girl that stuck around, it's like he was waiting for the perfect girl but just hadn't met her yet.

So maybe Eddie was jealous of Eric a little bit because he was scared that he would lose you as a friend.

That would never ever happen. Still, it's not like you could stay single all of your life while pining over Eddie.

He would meet an amazing girl eventually, you know you needed to move on from him and maybe giving Eric a chance was the way to do that.

Eric's arm casually slips around yours as he sits in the middle between you and Eddie.

"Hey, Munson. Scram. Three's a crowd dude" The look on Eddie's face makes you sense danger as his brown eyes flash.

"You know, I think I'm fine right here" Eddie growls and Eric shrugs.

"Suit yourself, dude"

The next half hour is the most awkward of your life as Eric flirts shamelessly with you and Eddie is concentrated on the movie, though his demeanour is tense.

Halfway through it, you're thirsty and Eddie offers to get you a drink. Eric follows him and your nerves grow even more as you exchange a glance with Robin and Steve.

This was not going to end well...

💕

Eddie didn't know why Eric followed him, he was getting on his last nerve.

"Dude, this is going great. Gotta say think I'm going to score tonight" Eric nudges him and Eddie stiffens.

"What?" Eric grins and throws an arm around him, Eddie thinks for a brief few seconds about punching Eric in his stupid smug mouth and shrugs his arm away.

"Come on man, tell me. You've tapped that right? Spill the deets" fury fills him and he glares at Eric.

"Don't talk about her like that" he warns him who did the douchebag think he was?

Didn't he realize how special you are? How any guy would be lucky to be with you. Of course, it would help if Eddie thought at least one guy was good enough for you but he didn't.

Not even Steve and he liked Steve a lot.

"I'm warning you, man. Shut up if you know what's good for you" Eric's smug smirk falls at these words and he snorts.

"Lighten up man. She's single, isn't she? Or are you in love with her or some shit?" Eddie doesn't hear anything else the douchebag says, he's coming to the realisation on something he should have known anyway.

Something he's suspected for a while but especially in the last few days.

He loved you and he was a fucking idiot for not seeing it any sooner.

"Really, Munson you think she's going to like a freak like you? Give me a break" Eric doubles over laughing and something inside Eddie snaps.

"Shut the fuck up. I mean it" he tells him coldly and all the colour drains from Eric's face before he laughs again, cocky as shit.

"Bet it will eat you up if I get there first huh?"...

At this point, Eddie stalks up to Eric but before anything can happen he hears you call his name.

"Babe, you gotta get your guard dog on a leash or something" Eric nods to you and you scowl, placing a tender hand on Eddie's chest before he lunges for Eric.

"I think you should go," you say to Eric who gapes, then shrugs.

"Whatever, got plenty of chicks I can score with" Ugh, you watch him go feeling disgusted.

Okay so Eric was definitely out of the picture, however you turn to Eddie still pissed at his attitude as well.

"We need to talk"

💕💕

You follow Eddie out beyond pissed as he calls Eric a few choice names. The ride home is fraught with tension and Eddie follows you inside as he still mutters about Eric.

It's all true, yeah but you're still annoyed at his attitude before Eric showed his true colours.

"Yeah he was a dick Eddie but before I knew that you were in a mood about something"

He swallows. ''That asshole was only after one thing"

"If he was a nice guy would you have the same problem?" he's silent then he speaks again.

"I would if he was an asshole who just wanted one thing"

"What does it matter? You sleep with women all the time so what does it matter if I wanted to sleep with a guy? No strings, no feelings just like you do?" you snap.

He doesn't say anything for a moment then looks you dead in the eye, resolve on his features.

"Yeah, and none of them works out and I've finally realised why" You pause and wonder what he means, motioning him to finish what he's saying.

"I'm in love with an amazing woman and I want her to know that she's the best thing that's ever happened to me and she feels like home"

Oh... your stomach sinks and you're desperate to show that you're happy for him even though your heart is breaking so badly.

"Oh, that's...that's great" he walks over to you and cups your cheek, his eyes warming.

"Oh, princess, come on. You know it's you I'm crazy about" You're stunned for a few seconds then break out into an ecstatic smile, trying very hard not to cry.

"Really?" he blushes as your hand entwines with his.

"Yes, took me long enough to realize, I think deep down I always knew. Seeing you with that douchebag was a wake-up call. I love you, sweetheart, you're my world, my home. I hope you know that"

All the anger and tension has faded from your body and your teary - happy tears - as you listen to Eddie's confession.

"I love you too Eddie" You kiss him and he pulls you closer to him, deepening the kiss.

"I'm sorry I got so jealous, I'm sorry I was with those women when I should have realised it was you I wanted"

You kiss him again and he holds you close, you fit perfectly in his arms and contentment fills you. It's been such a whirlwind of a day but it couldn't have ended any better.

"It's okay, you did realise. You're here with me right now and all I want to do is feel your lips on mine" he grins.

"As you wish princess"

✨💕

Eddie marvels at you in his arms, naked body pressed close to his. The rise and fall of your breathing as you make love.

Sex has never felt like this before, it feels so incredible and he knows it's because it's with you.

"I love you" he looks deep into your eyes as he says this and your warm smile makes his heart skip a beat.

You whisper against his neck as you press kisses over it, that you love him too.

He holds you close to him, fireworks explode in his mind as you clench around him tight.

"Eddie" your soft moans drive him wild and he orgasms, spilling his seed inside you, he captures your mouth with his in soft kisses as your back arches and you orgasm whispering his name over and over again.

He smiles as you fall asleep in his arms, he presses a tender kiss to your forehead.

It's you, it's always been you. Now that you're his, he feels at peace, content.

Because you're his home, you always have been. Always will.

#eddie munson x you #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst

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