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pathologicalreid · 7 months ago

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the lost daughter | s.r.

in which JJ goes missing in the middle of the night, and Spencer's attempts to comfort you completely fall through

margovember

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: angst content warnings: death, kidnapping, jareau!reader, takes place during 9x14 "200", caryatids, sibling loss, the british word count: 2.83k a/n: wrote this with my own sibling loss grief in mind so this is just me using fanfic as therapy. not sure if it's any good really. thanks for reading <3

You were already in the roundtable room by the time everyone came in, Penelope was making alarming faces at her laptop before she shook her head, “I’m trying,” she said. “I’m trying to pull data off of JJ’s phone, but it’s like level 9 security—it would make Snowden weep.”

Familiar hands settled on your shoulders, thumbs gently skimming over your collarbones as you watched the rest of the team sprawl around the room. “What about cell phone records?” Blake was next to speak, asking about your sister’s welfare when you couldn’t—too afraid of falling apart to so much as part your lips.

The look of desperation on Garcia’s face did nothing to comfort you, “Encrypted. JJ’s and Cruz’s.” With the disappointing news came a squeeze to your shoulders, Spencer’s silent attempt to comfort you without drawing too much attention to his movements.

Rossi shrugged, “That’s not surprising if they work for the State Department,” he reasoned, looking around the rest of the room.

You leaned back in the office chair, trying to remember how to place your feet on the ground, but it was hard when the soles of your shoes felt like a foreign sensation. “But if that assignment was a backstop,” Morgan started, “then JJ’s transfer as DOD Liaison was her cover.”

Spencer’s thumb ran from the base of your cervical spine to the base of your skull, working out a knot that had been there since you received a call from Will, asking if you knew where your sister was. “So, what was she really doing that year?” Spencer asked, the question sending a wave of goosebumps across your skin, fear making your blood run cold.

“That’s the first question Hotch is gonna ask,” Derek answered, easily slipping into the role of team leader in Hotch’s absence. “Strauss was pressured by the executive branch to push JJ’s transfer through in 2010, so she would have known the reason why.”

Your eyes immediately flicked to Rossi, wondering if Erin Strauss had divulged any state secrets over the duration of their relationship together. Though, you imagined Strauss maintained her oath of secrecy, much like your sister had in the three years since her reassignment. “Any assignment that Strauss authorized would be archived in the SCIF,” Spencer responded, his thumb smoothing over the hair at the nape of your neck.

Garcia looked alarmed, “That facility is code word classified.” She glanced around the room as if she was already searching for new ideas, but Derek seemed convinced.

His head bobbed, “Okay, but Anderson can get you in. He archives those reports,” he began to outline a plan. “Blake, Rossi, JJ couldn’t have used the SCIF without drawing attention. She probably has it foxholed right here in the BAU. We just need to find it,” his head rotated, meeting the gaze of everyone in the room—except for you.

“And what are you not telling us?” Blake asked, slipping both of her hands into the pockets of her blazer.

Morgan’s eyes dropped to meet yours, and you already knew what was coming. “Whoever took Cruz and JJ is highly trained and highly organized. Justice, defense, and state—they wouldn’t be on edge like this if this was a simple matter of two missing agents,” he explained.

You stiffened at his response, and Spencer restarted his ministrations, dropping his hands to your shoulders and working on your shoulder blades. “Is Hotch worried that the recovery won’t be made a priority?” Rossi asked, eyes flittering to you—even though they tried to hide it, everyone was sparing you nervous glances.

“It’s our job to find the leverage that assures it is. Let’s get it done,” Morgan said, nodding his head confidently before allowing the room to disperse.

Shaking off Spencer’s touch, he let you go without a fight, knowing that you wouldn’t be going anywhere far while your sister was still missing. You ducked your head, letting your hair curtain around your face while you walked out of the BAU, vaguely aware of the muttering that followed in your wake.

You shoved your way through the glass doors and turned the corner, practically throwing yourself into Morgan’s office before pressing your back to the wall and sliding down the drywall.

Visualizing the movement of air in and out of your lungs, you tried to teach yourself how to breathe normally. Something that was usually autonomic required more focus than usual, your thoughts so preoccupied with fear that you had to make a conscious effort to inhale and exhale.

The overwhelming feeling of impending doom hadn’t struck you until just then, sitting in the roundtable with your team and being left to wonder what might happen if you can’t convince the state to save your sister. You would have to call your mom and tell her that she’d have to bury another one of her daughters, Henry would have to grow up without his mother, and you would become an only child.

You never had to worry about being alone because you always had your sister, particularly in your adult life when you moved to D.C. JJ made a point to be dependable, to be someone that you could rely on no matter what was going on in her life, and the situation you found yourself in made you wonder if you never reciprocated. Her assignment was classified, but you wondered if she had ever tried to clue you into what she was doing during her time at the Pentagon. You wondered if she would’ve told you even if it was permitted.

It seemed too cruel. Parents weren’t supposed to have to bury their children and sisters weren’t meant to end up alone. The world couldn’t possibly be cruel enough to take JJ from you—she was the only sister you had left.

She promised you, after Roslyn died, that she’d never leave you alone. It was the most vivid memory you had from that early in your childhood. That period of time, from the moment JJ found her in the bathroom to the date of the funeral, you could recall it with alarming accuracy. For the longest time, you thought they were all manufactured, something you had dreamt up as if you were on a therapist’s couch.

But it was real, the fighting, the blood, the necklace—all of it was so devastatingly real.

Morgan’s office was cold, your fingertips frigid in the dim lamplight, you hadn’t even noticed your shadow until he was lowering himself to the ground in front of you, crisscrossing his legs so you were level. He leaned his head forward and set his chin on your knee, his posture so bad it would make dignitaries cry, but it allowed him to meet your eyes even while your head was tilted down.

You put your hands in a praying gesture and slid them between your thighs to warm them up, making eye contact with Spencer while he wiped at the tears on your cheeks. “What’s going through your head right now?” His voice was gentle, he didn’t want to push you, he just wanted to hear from you.

“The British Museum,” you answered because your fears of catastrophe would just worry him more.

He chuckled lightly at your answer, acknowledging that that was the last thing he expected you to say. “Can I ask why?”

Splaying out your fingers, you felt the sensation of the rough denim of your jeans on your knuckles—two of them split from hand-to-hand combat. You leaned your head back, focusing on your surroundings for a moment—Morgan’s office always smelled like cologne and a little bit like old man, which Penelope thought was the ghost of the agent that Derek had inherited his office from. “She was stolen from her sisters so long ago, and now no matter what anyone says or does, they won’t give her back,” you told him, your voice suddenly weak.

Emotion made your throat swell, and the way Spencer was tenderly skimming his fingertips over your thigh wasn’t helping. “Won’t give who back, honey?”

“The Caryatid,” you said urgently as if the answer should’ve been obvious to him. His eyes widened in response, maybe it concerned him that you were relating to a statue, and maybe it was right for him to be worried about you.

Six statues, constructed to support the roof of the Erechtheion in Greece, named after Caryae, which was an ancient town of Peloponnese. Vitruvius said they were constructed to represent the women of the town, women who were enslaved because the town sided with Xerxes during his second invasion of Greece.

Six sisters, built to carry burdens and remind people of the sin committed by Caryatid women.

Five statues, residing in the Acropolis Museum for their own protection while their sister lives alone in the British Museum because she was stolen. Taken by Lord Elgin and despite the insistence of those all over the world, she’s never been returned.

You wondered if she missed her sisters. If the arm she was missing had broken off when she was taken hundreds of years ago, and they had stopped her from reaching out to the only home she had ever known. You knew you would rather detach your own arm than live without your sister, you couldn’t bear the thought of not being a sibling anymore.

“I’m still here,” you whispered, looking straight forward and letting fresh tears fall from your eyes, “and when they’re both dead and I’m still here—what do I do?”

Spencer’s expression was pained, it killed him to know that there was nothing he could do to take your hurt away, it killed him to notice the way you wouldn’t meet his eyes. “She’s not going to die,” he insisted with an uncharacteristic note of optimism in his voice, producing hope when you had already scraped the bottom of that barrel.

Your nostrils flared in frustration, “You can’t promise me that.”

He nodded, “We are going to get her back, okay? We’ll get your sister back for you, and that is a promise.” Sad brown eyes bored into you, a sense of urgency that you very rarely saw in Spencer.

You shook your head, pulling your knees closer to your chest, effectively pushing him away. “You can’t promise me that she won’t die, we don’t even know where she is,” you reminded him.

“Honey,” he breathed, the word dripping in desperation as he tried to get you to meet his eyes, but you were looking past him—through him. “Hey,” he tried again, reaching out and sweeping a lock of hair behind your ear, “Garcia and I are going to the SCIF with Anderson, and I think you should stay here. If you’re up to it, you can help Rossi and Blake look for the foxhole.”

Just like that, he was gone, seemingly unaffected by your rejection of his reassurance, Spencer walked out of the office, leaving the door open a crack behind him.

The worst part was that you had known that JJ’s assignment was a backstop. You knew that there was something deeper going on because you could see it in her, you knew her just as well as you knew yourself. At least you thought you did.

Your suspicions started when she needed you as an emergency contact, citing that her job needed someone outside of her household to be part of her file. The cagey phone calls and missed lunch dates only added to your suspicions, but she never caved. “Where were you, JJ?” You asked yourself, speaking into the emptiness of Morgan’s office.

JJ had left the BAU just before you joined, and at the time everything seemed like it just worked out. When she decided to return, you got to stay, and being able to work with your sister felt like a dream come true—something right out of a film.

You held your head in your hands, pushing at your cheeks with your palms and trying to convince yourself to get up. You couldn’t hold the roof up without your sister. There was no way you’d be able to avoid crumbling without her.

So, you got up.

You ducked your head as a bullet ricocheted off of the iron in front of you, the BAU scattered throughout the warehouse as the search for your sister climaxed. She had to be here, it had been too long, and Askari wouldn’t let her survive this. “He’s headed to the roof,” Rossi said, and you heard footsteps echoing through the orange-lit space.

“So’s JJ,” Blake added, nodding assuredly from a few steps away.

Your head snapped up quickly enough to catch a flash of golden hair as JJ ran through the warehouse, chasing Michael Hastings. Spencer tried to get you to wait, but by the time the words left his mouth, you had already broken off into a sprint and fell into a line behind your sister and Emily.

Keeping your firearm drawn, you follow them to the roof, catching up with your sister and Emily, a thousand words exchanged in that first glance between the two of you. You didn’t have time for a proper reunion, not with Emily peeking around the corner, trying to get a shot at Hastings.

Somewhere in the distance, you heard helicopter blades whirling, getting closer and closer to you. No one had the chance to speak before JJ was running again, rounding the corner and scaling the ladder along the side of the building.

It was left hand-to-hand, and once your sister had given him enough momentum, you had to lunge forward to catch her. Hastings nearly dragged her off of the building with him, but you and Emily caught her, grabbing her hands and hauling her off of the ledge.

The three of you stood in a circle, looking around at each other as if no time had passed, as if Emily hadn’t flown here from London just to find her. “JJ,” you breathed, desperate for something, anything. The universe punished you for catastrophizing by watching the pain set in, JJ’s adrenaline faded now that she wasn’t in the midst of a chase, and the pain of the last several hours was able to show through.

You were about to offer to get down, to find her somewhere quiet to sit, but before you could, she hugged you. JJ nearly launched herself at you and gave you what you so desperately needed—your sister.

“It’s okay,” you said, pressing your face into her shoulder and letting your tears dry as quickly as they fell. “I’ve got you, J,” you assured her, your eyes flickering up to meet Emily’s, concern plain in her furrowed brow.

Slowly, the two of you got JJ off of the roof, and you met up with the rest of the team at the front door. You watched silently as everyone exchanged hugs with your sister, and you kept an eye on her even as she spoke with Cruz in the ambulance.

A familiar hand found its home on your waist, and you subconsciously leaned into Spencer’s touch, “She should go to the hospital.”

You scoffed, “Good luck convincing her of that,” you responded, raising your eyebrows as Hotch helped JJ down from the rig.

Just as you thought, she fought you on it, refusing to get in the back of an ambulance, but being okay with someone else driving her there. The only stipulation was that she needed to call Will first, and he could meet her at the hospital.

“How are you?” Spencer asked, leaning on the passenger door of an SUV while you kept an eye on your sister, watching her talk to Will and tell him that she’s fine.

JJ would always be fine. To someone else, that might’ve been enough, but you knew her better than that. Something was bothering her, but you feared it would take more than one conversation for you to get it out of her. “I’m sorry,” you whispered to him, trying to absorb his body heat into yours.

“You don’t need to apologize,” he insisted, dropping a soft kiss to the roof of your head.

Slumping your shoulders in disappointment, you looked up at him, “I shouldn’t have gotten so frustrated with you.”

Spencer is silent for a moment, shoving his hands in the pockets of his FBI jacket, “You were so scared, worse than I’ve ever seen you. Worse than you were when you were abducted, and I just wanted to reassure you. You were right though; I shouldn’t have promised.”

You shook your head, smiling up at him, “You were right. We did find her. You kept your promise.”

“I’m not really in the business of making promises that I can’t keep,” Spencer responded, cupping your face with his hands.

Raising your eyebrows, your eyes flickered over to JJ again, “Maybe you should be, you have a 100% success rate.”

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid angst #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fic #criminal minds fic #criminal minds angst #spencer reid x fem!reader #written by margot #jareau!reader #margovember

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bambiblakee · 2 months ago

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♡₊˚ 🦢・₊✧ Request list!

Yellowjackets!

Lottie Matthews ꩜ Misty Quigley ꩜ Akilah

The 100!

Bellamy Blake ꩜ Clarke Griffin ꩜ Octavia Blake ꩜ Echo

Criminal Minds!

Spencer Reid ꩜ Emily Prentiss ꩜ Aaron Hotchner ꩜ Jennifer Jareau

Jack O’Connell!

James cook ꩜ Remmick ꩜ Oliver Mellors ꩜ I’m open to other characters of his as well

Nicholas Hoult!

Tony Stonem ꩜ Hank McCoy ꩜ Thomas Hutter

Mike Faist!

Art Donaldson ꩜ Dodge Mason ꩜ Riff ꩜ open to other characters

Other!

Edward Nygma ꩜ Gotham

Sid Jenkins ꩜ Skins

Jacob Black ꩜ Alice Cullen ꩜ Twilight

James Wilson ꩜ House MD

Neil Perry ꩜ Todd Anderson ꩜ Dead Poet Society

What I’ll write: x readers, smut, fluff, angst, Poly x readers, AU x readers

!!WARNING!!: you can ask for anything but I won’t write everything, don’t feel judged if I don’t! (Unless it’s like race/age play or something then yes please feel judged)

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awritessomething · 1 year ago

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I have absolutely no ideas for writing whatsoever pleaseplease leave requests!!! Smut, angst, fluff, whatever y’all want I can probably do.

Ill write for these people and probably more that I forgot (all male character x fem!reader) :

Formula 1:

Max Verstappen

Oscar Piastri

Charles Leclerc

Lewis Hamilton

Carlos Sainz

Daniel Riccardo

Mick Schumacher

Franco Colapinto

Liam Lawson

Ollie Bearman

Criminal Minds

Spencer Reid

Aaron Hotchner

Derek Morgan

Marvel:

Bucky Barnes

Tony Stark

Thor

Deadpool

Steve Rogers

Spiderman (Tom Holland, Andrew Garfield, Miguel O'hara)

Harry Osborn (James Franco)

Wolverine (X-Men movies)

Cyclops (X-Men movies)

Charles Xavier (James McAvoy)

Call of Duty

Keegan Russ

Simon "Ghost" Riley

König

Phillip Graves

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

Star Wars:

Anakin Skywalker

Obi-Wan Kenobi

Kylo Ren

Luke Skywalker

Han Solo

Outer Banks: (pls no spoilers s4 hasnt been watched yet)

JJ Maybank

Rafe Cameron

Topper Thornton

John B. Routledge

Ward Cameron

Harry Potter:

Harry Potter

Cedric Diggory

Draco malfoy

Ron Weasley

Fred Weasley

Blaise Zabini

Regulus Black

Severus Snape

Tom Riddle

Sirius Black

Lorenzo Berkshire

Oliver Wood

The Walking Dead:

Glenn Rhee

Daryl Dixon

Rick Grimes

Carl Grimes

Negan Smith

Sports:

Joao Felix

Jude Bellingham

Brock Purdy

Joe Burrow

Leon Draisaitl

Jack Hughes

Vince Dunn

Mitch Marner

Connor Bedard

Wayne Gretzky (young)

Miscallaneous:

Jack Champion (Ethan Landry)

Patrick Bateman

Batman (Christian Bale)

Johnathan Crane

Finnick Odair

Josh Hutcherson (Peeta Mellark, Mike Schmidt, Sean Anderson, Clapton Davis)

Rodrick Heffley

Tristan Dugray

Dylan O'brien

Bellamy Blake

Patrick Dempsey (Derek Shepherd, Ronald Miller)

Joe Goldberg

Timothee Chalamet (Wonka, Paul Atreides)

Minho (The Maze Runner)

Keanu Reeves (John Wick, Neo, Alex Wyler, Dr. Beckham, Julian Mercer, Ted Logan)

Jim Halpert

Farkas/Vilkas

Ulfric Stormcloak

Miraak

Ben Schnetzer (Max Vandenburg, Brad Land, Russ Sheppard)

Ralph Macchio (Daniel Larusso, Johnny Cade)

Dallas Winston

Sodapop Curtis

Robby Keene

Zuko (atla dallas liu)

Jet (atla sebastian amoruso)

Cillian Murphy (Johnathan crane, jackson rippner, Neil Lewis)

Evan Peters (all ahs characters, Luke cooper)

James Franco (Laird Mayhew, Harry Osborn, all characters)

What I wont do:

Pedophilia

Beastiality or anything animal-y

Waterworks

Male reader (sorry)

Character x character

Threesomes or anything not 1x1

Character x oc

Specific body types (i just don’t see the point)

Daddy/mommy kinks

Incest or stepcest

(I’ll prob have to add on but its midnight rn)

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sarahakmercury · 6 months ago

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Hi guys! so, yeah, my account is deleted, so i was thinking about rewriting the request list. here are the fandom's i write for but before requsting please remember theses stuff:

i only write 'x reader'

i don't feel comfortable writing about (male x male) or (female x female)

i don't write smut, NSFW and things like that.

i only write 'female!reader' becasue i'm more comfortable like that :)

now for the characters:

(by the way you can request for the actors\actress's of those characters too)

MCU:

Romantic and platonic:

Tony Stark

Steve Rogers

Loki Odinson

Thor Odinson

Stephen Strange

Peter Quill

Deadpool/Wade Wilson

Wolverine/Logan Howlett

Pietro Maximoff

Platonic only:

Natasha Romanoff

Wanda Maximoff

Yelena Belova

Gamora

Stranger things:

Romantic and platonic:

Mike Wheeler

Lucas Sinclair

Dustin Henderson

Will Byers

Steve Harrington

Eddie Munson

Jonathan Byers

Platonic only:

Max Mayfield

Billy Hargrove

Jim Hopper

Joyce Byers

El Hopper

Robin Buckley

IT (2017 and 2019):

Romantic and platonic:

Richie Tozier

Bill Denbrough

Stanley Uris

Eddie kaspbrak

Platonic only:

Beverly Marsh

Ben Hanscom

Mike Hanlon

The black phone:

Romantic and platonic:

Robin Arellano

Finney Blake

Vance Hopper

Platonic only:

Gwen Blake

Albert Shaw (the grabber)

Bruce Yamada

Griffin Stagg

Billy Showalter

Dead poats society:

Romantic and platonic:

Charlie Dalton

Neil Perry

Knox Overstreet

Todd Anderson

Platonic only:

John Keating

Queen:

Yes, I'm a huge Queen nerd

Romantic and platonic:

Brian May

Roger Taylor

John Deacon

Freddie Mercury

The Beatles:

Platonic and romantic:

John Lennon

George Harrison

Paul McCartney

Ringo Starr

Others:

Romantic and platonic:

Boris Pavlikovsky (the goldfinch)

Miles fairchild (the turning)

Ziggy Katz (when you finish saving the world)

Trevor Spengler (ghostbusters)

Sherlock Holmes (BBC and RDJ)

Ravi Singh (AGGGTM)

Freddy Freeman (Shazam!)

Platonic only:

MPHFPC characters

Pip Fitz-amobi (AGGGTM)

Cara Ward (AGGGTM)

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llxferim · 8 months ago

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WELCOME!!

WARNINGS:

I WILL NOT WRITE ANY SMUT FOR UNDERAGE CHARACTERS!

I WILL REFUSE TO WRITE ANYTHING I MAY FEEL UNCOMFORTABLE WITH!

WRITING A REQUEST WILL TAKE SOME TIME BECAUSE I DO HAVE A LIFE, BUT I WILL BE AS QUICK AS I CAN!

Hello and welcome! (I have no idea how to do this)

-I won't be sharing any personal info :))

-I will say that I am Pan or Bi, still figuring it out (might just drop the labels altogether atp)

-I use She/her pronouns

-(Romance; platonic) - means the character is underage! and I strictly ONLY write romance; platonic x reader fics

-you can request both Romantic AND platonic x reader fics!

WHO I WRITE FOR:

(might forget some so feel free to request them anyway!)

MCU:

Loki Laufeyson

Bucky Barnes

Wanda Maximoff

Natasha Romanoff

Peter Parker (romance; platonic)

Tony Stark

Miles Morales (romance; platonic)

THE LAST OF US:

Ellie Williams (my wife)

Dina Woodward

(maybe) Joel Miller

Abby Anderson

THE UMBRELLA ACADEMY:

Klaus Hargreeves

Viktor Hargreeves

Five Hargreeves (romance, platonic.)

THE WALKING DEAD:

Carl Grimes (platonic, romance)

Rosita Espinosa

Daryl Dixon

Michonne Grimes

Rick Grimes

AVATAR: THE WAY OF WATER:

Lo'ak (romance; platonic)

Neteyam (romance; platonic)

Jake Sully

THE 100:

Lexa kom'Trikru

Bellamy Blake (maybe, depends on the request tbh)

ARCANE:

• Vi

• Sevika

• Caitlyn

• Jinx

• Ekko

can yall tell i like the color green?

#fanfiction #ao3 #tua #masterlist #who i write for #x reader #reqs open #gender neutral reader

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zuc6 · 3 years ago

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HEY! 😎 im a new fic writer, well like- not new but this is my first time writing like a introduction kinda thing so: (not proofread ☠️)

UPDATE AT THE BOTTOM FOR THOSE WHO'VE ALREADY SEEN THIS POST!! 😁😁😁

Hi, im vee. Just vee. Not short for any name or anything, my pronouns are she/they (afab🤙). i like to write oddly specific fan fiction that i dont necessarily see a lot 🦾

Im 17, 6'2 (the hoes gon loooove this), and here are some things im open to writing for

(ALSO feel free to leave requests i love other people's ideas)

Stranger Things

i WILL write for stranger things characters but im open to aging some up but if im uncomfortable im just like..not gonna...do it..

DEFINETLY open to writing like Joyce x Fem!Reader, since i havent seen that yet

Especially Milfs. Milfs 4ever.

CHARACTER POV'S, I've noticed in fics theyre usually from the readers perspective so its like only what the reader thinks of whatever character. Now while i like that i think itd be super fun to throw in what the character thinks of reader. like what they think of you, what they like, what the notice, shit like that!

The Last Of Us

WOOP i love the last of us. by the last of us i mean ellie williams and abby anderson

Im open to Ellie smut, Abby smut, Ellie AND Abby smut, whatever you want fr.

obviously not open to writing smut of minors so if you just so happened to let the thought cross your mind, no 😓

Idk how i feel about Joel x Reader shit considering Joel is like grandpappy but ive seen a lot of people open to it so dont lose hope if u were wondering

Euphoria

OK DONT BUG OUT im not like gonna write shit about underage characters like i said before

If you guys want euphoria shit tho im open to like angst or fluff mainly with like rue because obviously drugs rahrahrah

or like imagine being Fez's younger sister (only by like a year) Like fluff bond with Ash, showing him affection when hes not used to it, being close to rue bc drugs rahrahrah and like sister in law relationship with Lexi ykyk?

(i cant think of shit else)

Random shit ill write:

Reader listening to rock and being an epic hottie

Reader playing instrumentssss

I lean more towards Fem or Gn reader but i will do male reader dw

Reader being emo 😎 jk like metal lover reader

I will of course leave room for imagination but also include like Reader outfit photos

Reader having good sense of music, style, being shy, anxiety, panic attacks, angsty feelings, drama and trauma oooo

pet names

bold, punk, jerk or like asshole reader

Lots of aus, and like modern au bc im annoying

i was thinking of doing like a crossover of like Robin x Vickie but Vickies past is Anne with an E since theyre the same actor yk? it would be difficult to figure out since the timelines in each are so different

anything u want

will NOT write:

age play, baby talk, annoyingly cliche submissive shit, get that shit out of here

i wont romanticize domestic violence or make light of abusive relationship dynamics, hell noooo 🙅🏽‍♀️

Emotional whiplash, i want things to make sense

animal play. if you wanna be a bunny demon angel wolf hybrid please screw off 😭

Any kinks im uncomfy w (ex. piss kink 😦) ill let u know what im not okay with writing

tbp smut ☠️☠️

OKAY HI i wrote this and got extremely busy and just fucking like bonked out so here i am returning. i was gonna delste this account and make a new one because i didnt wanna like write this, disappear, and then come back and act like i never left sooo im back woop woop!

I HAVE GREAT NEWS THO! during my time away i found a new interest to latch myself onto and write about... and that isss...

THE BLACK PHONE

WOOOOOOOO I LOVE THIS MOVIE!!! and rinney is so fucking cool. i love those little gays, man

rinney fluff and angst is needed so bad i love them with my soul, man

gonna say this once again, im not gonna write smut about kids so pLEASE if any minor hunters read all the way down here just for that, take this moment to consider jumping out of the highest window possible 🙏

fix-it au's and modern au's are gonna be my main go to when writing tbp content because i uh... suck...at writing fics that take place in the fucking 70's in denver ☠️

FIX-IT AU, like finney getting another chance is so good im foaming at the mouth. im currently obsessed with @starsthatlinethesky 's fic on that so (PLEASE) go check that shit out its so good!

brance, MAYBE, most likely. i love bruce hes so sweet and vance is cool so i probably will write shit about those little gay men

terrance and finney's mom place swap. i want to write about finney and gwen being able to be happy without terrance and his destruction so hes getting erased at least once or twice 😊

gwen pov fics since i havent seen a lot of that

stranger things x tbp crossovers are so cool. like finney/will where will moves for whatever reason w his dad after season 2 or 3 since itd make the most sense. i love that shit

not writing smut but i probably will age everyone up a bit once or twice 🤘

i dont know if im gonna end up making x reader shit but if i do, reader isnt gonna be a preppy giddy child, theyre gonna be a punk, an asshole, a badass, closed off and overall AWESOME. you're welcome 🤗

other than that its pretty much fine, if u have any other like show ideas i might be open to write for hmu in the requests babeee MWA MWA

-Vee

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ssavanessa22 · 3 years ago

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3rd and final part of the BAU ✨yassified✨

Next we have Ashley sever

Next we have Jordan Todd

Next we have Kevin lynch

Next Grant Anderson

Then we have Diana Reid

And last but very not least we have Alex Blake

Thank you all for coming to my presentation the BAU ✨yassified✨

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i-smoke-chapstick · 3 months ago

Note

Save a horse ride two cowboys! Threesome, actually fuck it foursome it, they’d all get off and having a chick they can all fuck. I love long blurbs and I never get tired of Anders and Blake. They perfectly even each other out, the true fight is who gets to go inside first and who gets to cum inside first ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

NSFW!

THANK YOU ANON. Omg, I'm so glad I get to ramble on this oh my goddddd-

First of all, is it too much to automatically set the scene that the boys are finally making a porno, against the better wishes of Anders? Blake and Adam prayed for times like these 🙏

On the porno aspect, these three are passing the camera around almost as much as they are passing you around. Que Adam trying to pose for the camera while he's blowing your back out, hands gripping to keep you from squirming so much. Also Anders fumbling, demanding to get Steven Spielberg level shots of your boobs.

“Alright, everyone, let’s rotate- Blake, you’re up next. Adam, be nice.” and "I think- wait, did you adjust the audio, Adam?"

“I mean, yeah, yeah, sure, Ders. Audio's good. Whatever. But the viewers need us, baby!” He's waving Ders off (nothings gonna ruin this for him) Adam's gathering your hair in his hands to pull you in for a sloppy kiss.

And then Anders eventually abandoning the camera, because he's getting a little jealous and sexually frustrated just watching ;)

“Okay, okay, that’s it. I’m going in. I can’t just be the ‘tech guy’ all the time.” Before stealing you away from Adam, pulling you by your chin to kiss him, shoving the camera into Blakes hands with a groan.

Blake's shots, just like his movements, are messy. He's zooming in everywhere, hyping up Adam.

"Whoo, baby! Show her whose boss!" Blake's calling, which only makes Adam piston into you harder. You're gonna be thoroughly fucked out tomorrow.

Also, I'm imagining some REAL hard drugs at play to convince these boys (primarily Anders) to engage in this. So yeah, they all popped a molly beforehand. And it's hitting. Not only is it elevating the experience, making everyone a little extra sensitive, but everyone's also a little crazy ;)

I'm imagining it literally feels like a fucking fever dream. You got three sets of hands needily grabbing on you, and three mouths that don't shut up until they are occupied.

Adam and Blake Eiffel tower. That's it. That's the tweet. You're getting your mouth fucked by Blake, whose praising you.

"Ah- keep going sweetheart. Just like that." Gently petting your head and bobbing you up and down, while Adam just cackles in the back.

"Oh my god- I can't believe this is happening-" Adam's rambling, over-eager, until a particularly hard thrust makes him pause. "Fuck- yeah, take it."

Ders calls dibs on cumming inside you first! He wants a family the most, so if even there's even a slight chance on getting you pregnant, he calls first dibs. And to raise the kid as his own. It kinda kills the mood for everyone, but it riles Ders up and turns him on even more, so they move on quick and let him.

Also Ders !! He's the only one semi-sober enough to chastise everyone to drink water in between takes and rounds. Que Adam groaning, swearing he doesn't need 'more water' like some kind of 'little bitch' but still half-assing it by sneaking sips when no one’s looking, just so he can keep up.

Back to the recording aspect, I'm imagining all the messy close-ups of Blake absolutely eating your pussy out, canines grinning, talking with his mouth full. You'll tell him to stop getting distracted and he'll sink his teeth into your thigh just to hear you squeal.

"Ooooh...Hah, Tell me you caught that sound she just made, Ders!"

"Yeah, yeah, I got it. Move over." He's pushing Blake out the way, it's his turn now.

You really can hardly get a single word in. They are all overly talkative, switching positions every second, fighting over who gets to use you and whose in charge of the cam. When one of them makes you cum, the other two are hollering like hype-men.

"Fuck- dude- overstimulate her!"

"Yeah, keep going. Oh my god, get a close up on her face."

At the end of the day you can't tell where one of them ends, and where you begin. All the voices kinda blend together until you don't know whose even talking or touching you!

(Might be the best sex of your life, I fear.)

#x reader #smut #workaholics blurbs #workaholics x reader #workaholics tv #adam devine x reader #adam demamp x reader #adam demamp #anders holm x reader #anders holmvik x reader #anders holmvik #blake henderson x reader #blake henderson #blake anderson x reader

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forever-rogue · 3 years ago

Text

Kiss Me With Your Fist

AN | Alright kids, buckle in. We’ve got some friends-to-lovers-to-exes-to-?? goodness here. Enjoy!🥰

Warnings | Language

Pairing | Steve x Fem!Reader

Word Count | 5.9k

Masterlist | Main

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“So…you’re telling me that you’re dropping lunch off…for Steve,” Robin looked between the brown paper bag you’d set on the counter and you, blinking rapidly a few times, “Steve Harrington?”

“You are definitely overthinking this, Robs,” you offered her a small smile as you pushed the bag towards her, “he’s still my best friend, and he still needs to eat. I know he gets spacey about remembering to grab lunch so I wanted to make sure he had something.”

“But you’re not dating anymore…” her voice dropped slightly, as a strange look crossed her features. You swallowed thickly, willing the stinging at the back of your eyes to go away, “w-why are you still friends with him?”

“I know it seems weird,” you shrugged lightly, “and maybe it is…but I dunno. Steve has been my best friend since we were just kids. We tried dating, and apparently we aren’t in love with each other. We just love each other…as friends. And that’s…umm, okay.”

“He broke up with you-”

“It was kind of mutual-”

“Hmm, pretty sure it wasn’t,” she insisted as you bit the inside of your cheek. Yeah, no, she was totally right. Steve had broken up with you, but it hadn’t been…that bad. Alright, if you were being honest with yourself, it was that bad. But he hadn’t done it in a mean or harsh way, in fact the way he broke up with you was almost…gentle. You cried, unable to stop yourself, but what you hadn’t seen was how he broke down in tears as soon as he’d left your house. You offered Robin a tight lipped smile before shrugging lightly, “babe-”

“It’s okay. We’re friends…we’ll always be friends,” you promised softly while your heart told a different story, “please just…make sure he gets it.”

“Yeah,” she gave your hand arm a gentle squeeze as you walked out of Family Video, head down as tears threatened to run down your cheeks. Robin watched you go with a frown, unsure of just what she should do…she wished she could do something for her friends.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Blake Anderson was…fine. He was completely and utterly fine. And that was both the problem and upside of being on a date with someone like him. He was handsome in that typical ex-jock type of way, he was decently interesting and actually asked you questions and didn’t make the conversation all about him, he didn’t force a kiss on you, instead giving you a polite hug. He’d paid for dinner, insisting that since he asked you he was going to pay, he’d picked you up and dropped you off at home. Realistically, he should have been a dream.

But in reality, he wasn’t anything that you wanted. Because he wasn’t Steve.

A heavy sigh escaped your lips as you watched him drive away until he was out of the neighborhood, before walking up the driveway. You were almost at the door, but a voice calling out your name caused you to pause and turn around.

There was Steve, standing across the street in front of his house, watching you intently. There had been so many upsides to living across the street from your best friend; these days more often than not it felt like a bunch of downsides.

“Hey,” he quickly jogged across the street, and you couldn’t help but laugh when you noticed that he was in his slippers, and sleep clothes. You offered him a small smile as he stopped in front of you, his whole face lit up, “was that…Blake? You went on a date with Anderson?”

“Yeah,” you shrugged lightly, scratching at the back of your neck awkwardly. You really did not want to have this conversation, “he…ugh, asked me out when we ran into each other at the store. Figured, why not, you know? He was nice, but a little boring. But he didn’t try anything and didn’t make me feel uncomfortable so I guess that’s good.”

“Are you going to see him again?” the question spilled from his lips before he could even process it. Your face fell for a moment before you studied your shoes.

“I dunno,” you admitted honestly, “maybe, probably. He’s fine.”

“Fine?” he snorted humorlessly, “is that the standard these days?”

“Stevie,” you sighed lightly as you gnawed on your bottom lip. Steve’s heart skipped a beat at the sight, “can we not talk about this right now? I-I don’t really wanna talk about it.”

“Y-yeah, sure,” he agreed, the corner of his mouth ticking up ever so slightly. He could see the grimace on your face and hated knowing he was the reason for it, “no, it’s ugh…my fault. Sorry. I just wanted to thank you for bringing lunch. I totally forgot when I was running late this morning.”

“I know,” you whispered softly as his brows furrowed in confusion, “I saw your car when I was leaving for work and I just kind of assumed you were running behind. I just figured lunch would be nice.”

“It was,” his heart constricted at your words, at the fact that you always took notice of such things, at the fact that you still displayed so much love and affection for him. For you it might have been a simple little thing, but to him it meant everything, “thank you.”

“It’s no problem, Stevie.”

“Game night - it’s ugh, at the Byers’ this week,” he said almost nervously as he tucked his hands into his pockets, “wasn’t sure if you’d heard yet. I…I guess I’ll see you there?”

“I don’t think so,” you could feel his eyes practically burning into you as you shook your head lightly, “I-I think I’m busy that night. I’ll probably just…skip for now.”

“O-oh, right. Yeah, that makes sense.”

“Yeah, it’s…” you shrugged before taking a step back, looking anywhere but his eyes. You’d break down completely if you did, “I’m gonna head inside, it’s getting late…I’ll see you around, Steve.”

“Sweethe-” he stopped himself but you felt his fingers wrapped gently around your wrist, “is everything alright?”

“Of course,” everything was most definitely not alright. Not when you were still so in love with him, but pretending that you were okay with just being best friends as you had always been, “just tired.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” your promise was weak and he could see right through it, “good night, Steve.”

“Good night,” he watched you shuffle towards the door, watching to make sure you got inside safely before he turned around to walk back across the street. If he were a better man - a stronger man - he would have run after you and apologized for every hurt he’d ever caused.

Instead, he walked back to his dark and empty house, ready to spend another night alone.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Hey Henderson,” Steve offered his young protege a wave and smile as he stepped into the living room already crowded with his gaggle of children and friends. Dustin’s face lit up happily as he greeted him in return, but his gaze quickly drifted to over his shoulder, “what?”

“Where is she?” Dustin asked as he stood up and moved Steve to look around behind him for any sight of you, “Steve?”

“Who?”

“Bullshit,” he sighed heavily, “you know exactly who. I thought she was coming with you? She…she always comes.”

“She’s…busy tonight,” he shrugged it off but the young boy wasn’t buying it. This was the first game night in almost a year that you’d missed. You always came with Steve, before you dated, during, and then after. Until now, “I don’t know man, call her yourself and ask.”

Dustin sighed heavily as he shook his head. He reached up and put his hand on Steve’s shoulder, “I hope you realize how much you fucked up.”

“Whoa - language!”

“Grow up,” Dustin rolled his eyes, “I still can’t believe you broke up with her. Biggest mistake ever. Everyone knows, everyone agrees.”

“Do you think it was easy for me?” he ran a hand through his hair, sighing in exasperation.

“Do we think what was easy for you?” Eddie popped up behind him, popping a handful of dry cereal in his mouth that he proceeded to chew loudly. Steve rolled his eyes dramatically; why did all of his friends have to have such wonderful timing?

“Look, I’m not going to do this right now-”

“Yeah you are,” Dustin grabbed his arm and started to drag him outside to the backyard where there would have been at least some minimal privacy, Eddie in tow, “you’ve both been off for weeks, ever since you broke up with her. Clearly it wasn’t the right decision so why don’t you just fix it?”

“I can’t just fix it, Henderson,” he hissed through gritted teeth, “I need you, all of you, to understand that I did it for a reason - a good reason.”

“No way in hell, or the upside down or whatever, could there be a good reason for that. She had you whipped, Harrington,” Eddie agreed with his young friend, “you worship the ground she walks on.”

“I did it to protect her,” he almost shouted after listening to Eddie and Dustin go back and forth. The two of them looked at Steve in confusion before turning back to each other. It was an answer that made sense…but also didn’t make sense at the same time, “everything I do - I do for her. I-I know it doesn’t seem like it and that I’m the bad guy, but that’s the truth. There - happy now?”

“How does breaking up with her…protect her?” Dustin was confused as he tried to make sense of the answer, “all it’s done is cause you both to be miserable, even if you’re pretending to be fine. We can all see it, Steve.”

“Yeah Stevie,” Eddie crossed his arms over his chest as he sighed deeply, “explain to us simpletons what you mean.”

“She…she shouldn’t have gotten involved in any of the shit we’ve been dealing with for the last few years,” he sighed, “I never meant to let her get involved but I did.”

“You do realize it was inevitable, right?” Eddie laughed lightly, surprised at Steve, “that girl would follow you to hell and back and with a moment of hesitation. She did do that, actually. There was no chance that you’d ever be able to keep anything from her. You’re her world, Harrington, it doesn’t take a genius to figure that out.”

“I never wanted…never wanted her to have to see any of this or live through it,” he scrubbed a hand over his tired face, “look at all we’ve been through. I mean - fuck, we almost lost you, Eddie. I can’t even imagine…if anything had happened to her.”

“But it didn’t-”

“But it so easily could have,” he sighed, “all it would have taken was one wrong move from any of us and something could have happened. We barely got out of there.”

“You can’t think like that man,” Eddie, the one who had been through the brunt of it along with Max, knew better than anyone, “look, I don’t know man, I’m not good at this shit, but it’s easy to tell when two people are in love with each other. You’d do anything for her, she’d do anything for you. Yeah, the world is scary and fucked up, more than I’d thought before all of this, but there are some things worth taking the risk for. You just have to decide what those things are. But I think you already know.”

“She won’t even look me in the eyes anymore,” his shoulders slumped before he threw up his hands in exasperation, “I don’t think she even wants to be my friend anymore.”

“You’re so stupid sometimes,” Dustin shook his head as Eddie high fived him, “she’s trying to keep her distance because of her feelings. Because she loves you, but she wants to respect the boundaries you put in place. Even if you wanted to keep her safe, if something ever came up again, she’d be right there to keep you safe. Essentially, what you’ve done is pointless and just hurt both of you.”

“Okay, since when are you a relationship expert?” Steve was trying to deflect the fact that what Dustin was saying was true, “I-I don’t know what to do. I think I threw away everything.”

“Talk to her man,” Eddie insisted as though it was the obvious thing in the world. It was, “at least explain everything to her and let her make the choice of whether or not she wants to be your friend or whatever.”

“I don’t know,” he looked at his feet and let out a long shaky breath, “what if I-”

“Hurry up, idiots! We’re starting,” Robin poked her head outside and motioned for them to come inside so they could properly start game night. Eddie and Dustin gave Steve pointed looks as he groaned internally. They were right - that was the worst part of it all.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It was a quiet night at Family Video, and Steve and Robin had made the most of it by playing a bunch of mindless little games. When the phone rang, it ended up being a moment of excitement, rather than annoyance as it would have been otherwise. Steve almost jumped as he grabbed the receiver and pressed it to his ear, “Family Video.”

“Stevie?” your voice was shaking as goosebumps covered his skin. His heart started to beat wildly as he thought of all the possible reasons you could have been crying, “I-I-I’m sorry. I know you’re working but..I-”

“Baby,” he whispered softly without even thinking about it, “where are you? What happened?”

“I-I’m downtown. Near Enzo’s,” you wiped away the tears that had rolled your cheeks, “I…you know what, it’s okay. I’m okay. I-I’ll figure it out.”

“No,” he insisted firmly. He quickly asked for a more specific location, committing it to memory, already reaching for his keys, “stay right there, baby. I’ll be there in a few minutes, okay?”

“Thank you,” you whispered softly as he offered you a few more words of reassurance. You hung up the pay phone, cursing yourself for calling him but glad at the same time you did. He was the first person that came to mind, the one person you could always turn to, the one person that would always be there for you.

You sat down on the bus bench near the payphone as you waited for him, nervous to see him. It had been almost a week since you’d seen him face to face, making up any excuse not to see him and trying your best to avoid him. And yet…you still found yourself calling him.

It was less than ten minutes when his familiar car pulled up to the curb and he almost jumped out of the driver’s side. He ran over to you, dropping to his knees in front of you as he reached up and tenderly took your face in his hands. Your eyes were glossy with tears and he delicately wiped the ones that pearled up away.

“What happened?” his voice was soft and gentle, almost as if he was worried about scaring you away, “tell me so I can make it better.”

“I shouldn’t have called you,” you whimpered as you squeezed your eyes shut, “you were working and you hate me now and everything’s all wrong.”

“Yes, you absolutely should have called me,” he was going to ignore the aching in his chest at yours, chalking them up to whatever you were going through, “I want to always be the first person you call. What happened - please tell me.”

“I was on a date, some guy named Ryan,” your shoulders shook with effort as you tried to keep some composure, “and he asked if I wanted to go home with him and I said no because I knew he just wanted to have sex. He got mad when I said no and he…tried to touch me but I told him to stop and that I didn’t want to go home with him and h-he started to yell at me and told me to get out of the car and he just drove away.”

“Fuck,” his blood was boiling in his veins as all he could see was red. But underneath all the anger was the pain and hurt he felt at what you had just been through, “I will deal with him later, but first I’m going to take you home. Did he-”

“No,” you sniffled, “I got him to stop before he did anything. I feel so stupid…he seemed so nice and then he just completely changed.”

“None of this is your fault,” he whispered as stroked your cheek, “don’t ever think that. Come on, let me take care of you.”

“Stevie-”

“Shh,” he whispered, brushing a few stray locks of hair out of your face. He stood up, pressing a kiss to your forehead before helping you to your feet and into the car.

The drive back to your house was silent, only the radio playing faintly in the background as you stared out the window. Steve had been half tempted to put his hand on your thigh, like he had done countless times in the past, but didn’t want to worry you or push you.

When he pulled into your driveway, he came around and opened your door, holding your hand as he took you to the door. You expected him to leave once you were inside, but that thought hadn’t even crossed his mind. He gently took the keys from your shaking hands and unlocked the door, stepping inside and turning on the light before holding the door open for you.

You followed him inside as he led the way to your bedroom, and everything almost felt normal. He turned on your bedside lamp before gesturing for you to sit down on the bed.

“I’m going to run a hot bath, okay?” he asked but it wasn’t even a question. You nodded as you watched him go into the ensuite bathroom, slowly pulling off your heels and attempting to shed the dress that now felt all wrong. You heard him run the water before smelling the familiar scent of your favorite bubble bath. The memory of all the times in the past that he had done this for you caused a small smile to appear on your face.

He popped back into your room, holding out his hand to you. There was a moment when you considered not taking it, but you could never do that. Instead, you took his hand and let him lead you to the bathroom.

“Do you want me to step out?” he whispered, “I can wait outside until you’re done. I just want to make sure you’re alright.”

“You can stay,” you pulled off the dress and tossed it to the floor. You unclasped your bra before discarding and followed suit with your underwear. Despite having the best intentions, it was hard for Steve to control himself and not look, “it’s nothing you haven’t seen before.”

You stepped into the warm water, finding it the perfect temperature as you settled in. Steve sat on the floor next to you, trying to gauge what was running through your mind. You pulled your knees up to your chest as you turned to look at him with a sad little expression. He reached for a washcloth and your face wash before he delicately started to wash your face. You should have stopped him, stopped this and kept your heart from breaking further when you knew he would inevitably leave. But you couldn’t. Instead you sat still as he worked slowly and reverently.

“Thank you,” your voice was barely above a whisper as you allowed yourself to meet his eyes. They were the same big, soft brown eyes that you’d fallen for over and over since you’d known him. And you could swear they were looking at you with the same expression as they had so many times, including the first time he told you he was in love with you. The realization that that was no longer true made your heart ache and you had to look away, “Stevie…I-I…thank you. For getting me, for doing this for me. But can you…can you please go home?”

“You want me to go?” his smile dropped as he opened his mouth but found nothing else to say.

“I can’t do this,” you sighed as you stared at the bubbles gently floating around, “I can’t do this and pretend that I’m not still in love with you. I know you’re not in love with me, and I respect that and because I want to respect you, I can’t have you here. I can’t make myself fall out of love with you and pretend I never loved you and that everything is just going to be alright. I knew that when we started dating it would be a risk - a risk that we might not work and it could jeopardize our friendship. And it did, a-and that’s okay, because at least we know we would never work out, right? And I-I don’t…it’s not fair to you for me to be in love with you and be your friend, you know? I don’t want things to be awkward or worse.”

“What do you-”

“I think it’s best if we don’t…if we aren’t friends anymore,” the words in themselves were the worst thing you had ever said. It broke your heart all over again, “my feelings for you are never going to change, Stevie. And I can’t just be your friend and you don’t want anything different with me so I feel like this is the only way.”

“N-no. That’s not true, you’re-”

“We’ll still have the memories of the good times,” your voice almost broke as you held back a sob, “but right now…can you please just go?”

“Swee-”

“Please,” you bit the inside of your cheek so harshly you were surprised it didn’t bleed, “please just go.”

He wanted to do anything but go. He wanted to stay, to tell you that you were wrong and that he had been wrong with breaking up with you in the first place. That he was stupidly trying to do what he thought was right, when it was really wrong. But that his heart had been in the right place. But you weren’t even looking at him. You wouldn’t believe him - not right now anyway.

“O-okay,” his lips were drawn into a thin line as he nodded, “I’ll go. I…I’m sorry.”

“‘s okay,” you shrugged again, “nothing to be sorry for.”

When you didn’t say anything else, he got up and left, but not before making sure you had a clean towel and pajamas waiting for you. His heart broke a little more with each passing step.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You’d made it a point to do everything you humanly could in order to avoid Steve. It was a herculean challenge considering that you lived across the street from one another, worked close to each other, and happened to have all of the same friends (funny how trauma brings people together). But somehow you had managed and you were sure part of it was due to your friends helping in ways they could, usually by diverting Steve. As much as they wanted the two of you to figure it all out, they had to let it happen in its own time.

You were a mess. Steve was no better. As much as you tried to get over him, trying to will away the love you had for him, it was impossible. He was not just your best friend, but your family, the person that had been by your side for everything, from elementary through high school, through the awkward teenage years, through all the dating drama and first kisses and parties and all of it. How were you just supposed to let that go? How were you supposed to let the biggest piece of your heart go and carry on like he didn’t exist anymore?

You couldn’t.

And now it was another Friday night. A Friday night that would normally be spent with all of your friends, but was now usually spent home alone with a pint of ice cream and an old film. But this time, Robin and Nancy had convinced you to come to movie night at the Wheelers’ home, promising that Steve wasn’t going to be there. He’d told them he had to go out of town for something or other. You’d believed it; when you left the house his car was gone from his driveway and you knew that none of your friends would lie.

But as soon as you were there, comforted by the sea of familiar faces and tucked next to Eddie on the couch, he walked in. The room fell into silence as he looked just as surprised to see you there as you were to see him. Everyone seemed equally surprised.

“I…it’s movie night,” he said lamely as he held up a case of cola, the tension in the room so incredibly thick.

“You said you were going out of town,” Nancy whispered with wide eyes, blaming herself for the tension, “you said you weren’t coming.”

“I did go,” he stammered nervously, “I got back early and figured I’d come over. I-I-I didn’t know that…”

“Hey,” you cast a look around the room, extremely aware of everyone’s expectant looks, “it’s all good, guys. We can watch a movie, after all. It’s fine - let’s get our snacks and watch.”

Like a collective sigh of relief washed over the room, everyone relaxed slightly. While at least things were at a head, you were freaking out throughout the movie and attempting to keep calm. Judging by the way Eddie kept looking at you and almost protectively put his arm around you, you clearly weren’t doing a good job.

Once everyone had said their goodbyes, you followed Eddie to his van, having hitched a ride with him earlier. Before he could even open the door for you, Steve ran up behind the two of you, “I can take her home.”

“It’s cool,” Eddie wasn’t sure what to do, not wanting to get in the middle of it but also wanting very much to get in the middle of it, “I’ve got her.”

“It makes no sense,” Steve’s hands were on his hips as he nervously glanced at you, “you live across town and we live across the street. It’ll save you the trouble.”

“She’s no trouble,” he insisted with a smug little smile.

“It’s just that-”

“It’s okay,” you cut Steve off without looking at him, “I’ll go with Steve, Eds. He’s right, it’ll save you the drive. Thank you though, for picking me up and all.”

“Anytime, sweet cheeks,” he gave you a soft smile - he’d always been soft on you - as you pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek, thinking nothing of it, “see you this weekend.”

“See you,” you gave him a wave before following Steve to his car, a tense silence falling over the two of you. You got into the passenger seat without a word, fully expecting to say nothing on the drive home. Instead you contented yourself with staring out the window at the past scenery.

“Munson, huh?” He broke the quiet after a few minutes, his knuckles practically white from the tight grip he had on the steering wheel.

“He’s our friend, Stevie,” you didn’t look at him, but the use of his nickname caused his stomach to somersault, “we’re just hanging out. That’s all. I love Eddie but he’s not..,never mind.”

“He’s not what?”

“He’s not my type, okay? I’m not attracted to him like that,” you sighed, clenching your jaw as you tried not to cry. You wished he would just keep quiet and let you be miserable in peace.

He did that much at least, keeping quiet and his gaze away from you until he pulled into his driveway and parked. You immediately moved to get out, closing the door and mumbling a soft thank you as you almost ran across the street to your house.

“Wait!” Steve darted after you, easily catching up and grabbing your wrist gently to stop you. You inhaled sharply before turning around to meet his eyes, “please. We need to talk-”

“We?”

“I - I need to talk,” he insisted, attempting to muster up all the courage he had to finally tell you what had possessed him to make the biggest mistake of his life, “please. Just let me…explain.”

“I’m not really interested in getting my heart broken all over again,” you pulled your hand out of his and wrapped your arms around yourself, a defense mechanism that you hoped would ward him off, “look, I’m sorry I was there tonight, okay? Robin and Nance swore you wouldn’t be there. If I had known you would be, I won’t have come. I’m sorry if that made things awkward. There, I said it for you. You can go home now, Steve.”

“No, that’s not what I was going to say at all-”

“Then what were you going to say?” you asked as you flailed your arms nervously, “I don’t think there’s anything left to say.”

��I’m sorry,” he finally said after a few beats of silence, “I know you probably don’t want to hear it and I probably don’t deserve your time, but I just need to…explain.”

You sighed heavily, but nodded, “okay.”

“When we started dating,” he wanted to look away but forced himself to look in your eyes, “that was the best day of my life. I had been wanting nothing more for years, but I just couldn’t bring myself to ask you because I never thought someone like you could actually love me, or want me or anything-”

“Someone like me?”

“Just you,” he insisted, “you’re so…fuck. You’re perfect - to me you’re perfect. You’re so beautiful, so smart, funny, kind, caring, and you babysit the kids so well with me and I’m just...so much better with you. I’m a fuck up, baby, I know that. I’ve made some shitty choices and haven’t always been the best guy, but the best decision I have ever made was sitting next to you that first day of class in the first grade. The worst decision I ever made was convincing myself that by breaking up with you was the only way to keep you safe. I never wanted you to get involved in this shit, to put you in danger, but you’re so fucking fearless and selfless that you never hesitated. You didn’t blink an eye or question it. And then…when we were in the upside down and we almost…we almost lost Eddie, that was one of the worst feelings ever. If I felt that way about a friend, imagine how I would have felt if it was you. I would have never forgiven myself. I hated even seeing you with those cuts and bruises. And then I thought, maybe the solution to all of it was to…create a bit of distance. I thought that would keep you away from the bad shit and keep you safe.”

“Steve-”

“I should have told you that in the beginning, but I knew you’d never have it-”

“Stevie.”

“I thought I was doing the right thing,” you could see that his eyes were glossy with unshed tears now and it made you want to run and hug him, “I thought it was right. All I ever wanted to do was protect and keep you safe. Even if it meant you hated me.”

“Steve,” the tears had run down your cheeks regardless of your effort to hold them back, “how do you think I felt when those stupid demobats almost got you? I would have done anything to keep you safe-”

“You did.”

“Yeah,” you agreed, “just like you would have for me if things had been reversed. You think I didn’t know all of that was dangerous? You really think that would have stopped me from following you?”

“No…”

“No,” you confirmed, “you’re insane if you think anything you could ever do would get me to leave your side. Even now, I would do anything for you Steve Harrington. You’re so smart and so dumb at the same time, and you really hurt me. But I can’t even be mad because your heart was in the right place. Even though you were idiot, you did it-”

“Out of love,” he finished, “I’ve always loved you, since we were stupid kids, and I’ve been in love with you for so long. That never changed. It will never change. There is not a single memory that you’re not somehow involved in. There is not a single future I can picture without you and like six kids and a big RV that we use to go camping and traveling.”

“I hate camping,” you laughed through your tears as he stepped closer to you.

“I know you do,” he exhaled nervously, “but you’d do it for me anyway.”

“Yeah,” it was a soft promise, one that brought a smile to his face, “I would. For you? Anything.”

“I know that I fucked up,” he wiped your tears away his thumb, and you could feel his body shaking, undoubtedly with nerves, “and I don’t deserve your forgiveness or love or anything. But I’m an idiot, and selfish, and I’m yours, baby - fuck, I’m yours - and I’m going to ask you for a second chance.”

“I want to be mad,” you admitted, “because we’ve both been suffering like idiots. But, Steve Harrington, I’m still in love with you. And I’m willing to give you my heart to break again.”

“I won’t, I swear,” he leaned in and pressed his forehead against yours, closing his eyes, “I know you have no reason to trust in what I’m saying. But it’s true.”

“I know,” you could feel his breath against your lips, could feel how close his lips were, “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you,” he sighed softly, as his arms wrapped around you without hesitation, “can I kiss you?”

“Yes,” you leaned in and pressed your lips against his, letting him take control. His kiss was soft and slow, so many unspoken words and words behind it. When he pulled back at you, you could see that his cheeks were wet too, and just like he had done for you so many times, you wiped away his tears. He took your hand in his and pressed a kiss to your palm, “six kids, huh?”

“It was just a thought,” the two of you shared a soft laugh, neither of you breaking eye contact, “it’s negotiable of course.”

“I dunno about six,” you grinned softly, “but a few baby Harringtons sounds good.”

“Yeah?” his smile was that same soft, dopey smile you’d fallen in love with countless times, and you found yourself falling all over again.

“Yeah,” you kissed the corner of his mouth, “I love you, pretty boy. You’re a fool, but you’ve got a heart of gold.”

“I love you,” he held up his hand and you slid your palm against his, letting his much larger hand envelope yours, “always.”

“Always.”

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x fem!reader #joe keery #joe keey x you #joe keery x reader #st

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peachyteabuck · 3 years ago

Text

one for the money // fallon carrington x reader

↪ summary: after years away, you figure it’s time to explain to fallon why you left

a commission for @devillskettle

↪ pairing: fallon carrington x reader

↪ words: 3584

↪ trigger warnings: homophobia from a parent (blake is a shitty parent), blackmail, switch!fallon, switch!reader, focusing on top!reader, orgasm control, orgasm countdowns, hatefucking

Nothing in your life has gone according to plan. Your major? Changed six months into undergrad. Your career path? Abandoned for a graduate offer a few months after graduating. The outfit you planned last night? Peed on by your cat in the middle of the night, requiring you to wear the outfit you wore the day previous. Your breakfast order this morning? Messed up by the drive-thru employee. In your field, with your luck…hoping for predictability isn’t enough. You have to be able to find comfort in chaos or else you’d be screaming into every damn pillow you could get your hands on, and probably on a much higher dose of anxiety medication.

None of this, none of your years of preparation for “times your life has gone off the goddamn rails” seems to matter now. Not a single minute of the quick fixes and pivots and carefully constructed plans dashed could have prepared you for the moment to come. The long drive from your company-provided AirBnB certainly don’t help either – the two hours alone in your car in Atlanta traffic a full one hundred and twenty minutes of silence that have you itching to get out of your own skin. Still, when you arrive and park, you wish you had more time…hoping you could delay the inevitable task ahead of you.

You haven’t been at the Carrington mansion in a long while. Part of you feels it hasn’t been long enough, that centuries could pass between visits, and you’d regret stepping through the front door. Another part of you feels like it was yesterday; like you had merely stepped out for dinner and are returning home after a few hours away. Not much has changed either way, the statue that once sat in the immediate view of the front door is no longer there, and the carpeting in the front room has changed. But the twin staircases, the marble floors, the haunting feeling that settles into your bones…that’s just the same as the day you left. The family scent hound’s there, too, lounging on a dog bed you’re sure was prohibitively expensive while the rest of the world ignores him the same way it does them. You want to pet him, see if he remembers you; but the fear he doesn’t keeps you in your place.

The worst part is, the mansion is nearly silent. Nearly no one is home. Blake and his wife (which one is this? Four? Five?) fucked off to the Bahamas for a week-long vacation at an all-inclusive resort. The older Carrington sibling is similarly gone, his ex-boytoy luckily gone, too. Whether they’re in the same place is none of your concern, all you truly care about is that they’re not here with you. Even Anderson has taken a few days off, returning to New Zealand to do…whatever it is he does. All that’s left are the lower servants, who – if they do recognize you – say nothing as they hurry past to do whatever stupid chores Blake left for them. You are stagnant, listening to the sound of shoes walking past you occasionally. The non-slip sneakers make a distinct, soft squeak, a sound you’re nearly enjoying when you hear the harsh, sharp sound of stilettos. They start far off, a sound you hope is just an impending thunderstorm. As their tight, even pace continues, though, growing louder with every passing click…you know your fate.

So you stand, inert, staring straight ahead into nothingness, waiting for the voice of the woman whose heart you broke to ring through the empty corridor. And, Heavens above, does it ring.

“Get out of my house,” she hisses. You don’t need to see her face, you can imagine her pursed lips and narrowed eyes and brow furrowed with rage. It’s almost cute.

You keep your gaze straight ahead, not giving her the satisfaction of eye contact. “Your name doesn’t go on the deed until both Blake and Steven die and we both know it.” She gasps then stomps down the stairs, and only when you feel her body heat and can smell her signature perfume do you look at her. “Fallon,” you say, looking her up and down. “It’s so nice to see you again.”

She doesn’t respond, anger radiating off of her like heat rays from the sun. “You left me!” she growls through grit teeth. With her so close it’s easier for you to see her, truly, in all her glory. She looks almost the same as the day you left, with perfect makeup and perfect teeth and perfect nails and perfect jewelry that perfectly complements her perfect outfit. Really the only thing that’s changed is her bangs – these adorable, childlike bangs that once covered her forehead and now are gone. Her hair is still the same, slightly curly and a wonderful dark chocolate color you want to twirl around your fingers. If Fallon didn’t look like she’d bite your hand if you tried, you’d be threading your fingers through her locks and pulling her close.

“I-“

You aren’t able to defend yourself for your self-admitted misgivings before she’s pouncing on you like a cat, knocking you to the ground as she screams. “You fucked off to your fancy fucking college and left me here!”

You can’t tell what she’s trying to do, her fists balled but punches reminiscent of a toddler whose animal crackers were taken away. At least she doesn’t want to really hurt me, you think.

You scoff as she grabs ahold of your blazer lapels, shaking you back and forth. You keep your head angled to avoid the hard floors (blood would be very unbecoming on your cream shirt), but allow her to use you like a punching bag. “I didn’t leave you, I left this house.”

Fallon’s eyes narrow, her movements never ceasing. “And I fucking live here, asshole! You can’t leave this place without leaving me in it! You left me alone here!”

Tears – tears you ignore for her own dignity – prick at the corners of her eyes. Beneath her fiery outrage you know she’s upset, genuinely upset with you and what you did. You have no defense, really, and so you let her do what she needs to do until she tired herself out and stands back up. Though her heart races in her chest and her nostrils flare, she calmly moves the hair that covers her face back into its proper place. After a beat, you follow suit, getting back on your feet and facing her once more.

“I,” you sigh as she raises a single brow. Don’t lie to me, it says. Don’t you dare fucking lie to me. Not here. Not now. Not after what you did. “Let’s go up to your room where we can talk.”

Fallon considers your proposal, neither of you acknowledging the awkward housekeeper who dusts the paintings that hang a mere ten feet from the both of you. She doesn’t say anything when she accepts, simply exhales and turns on her heel to walk back where she came from. You follow, equally silently, until you’re both in her obnoxiously large bedroom and standing far enough apart to where you can’t count her eyelashes.

“Come back,” is all you tell her. Your heart aches for you to touch her again, to smell where she sprays perfume on the juncture of her neck, to nose at her hairline. She doesn’t move. “I’ve missed you.”

She merely raises her eyebrow once more. “How much?”

You move closer in the face of her stubbornness, tracing your hands down the seam of her top. “More than Romeo missed Juliet when he found her dead body at that casket…”

She fumes, silently. It’s a good answer, one much better than she was expecting. You take her silence, even as her jaw tenses, as the okay to continue. Your hands travel from her elbow to her shoulder, down the black edge of her cardigan thumbing at the expensive knitwork. You want to tease her, mockingly ask whether it was actually as hard as she wants to make it seem to let you near her again. But she’s skittish, like a newly rescued feral kitten. So you keep your voice low, focusing on small movements and quiet praises. “You look nice.”

Fallon gives you a little snort but doesn’t pull away. A good sign. “If you’re here to butter me up into not being upset, it’s not going to work.”

You shrug, tracing the outside of the matte black buttons. “Nah, honest. You look good in this.”

She’s wearing a sweater set – some knit houndstooth pattern that a cropped cardigan and skirt that falls mid-thigh share. She’s got a black shirt underneath, the style reminiscent of a t-shirt but made of a silk much nicer than any jersey fabric. It doesn’t really matter what she’s wearing, or even that she looks fucking delectable in it. What matters is that it grants you easy access to her pussy. Or, more accurately, the panties that cover it. You move your head ever so slightly, softly pressing your lips to hers.

“These are nice, too” you murmur into her lips, your smile only growing when she scowls.

Her eyes narrow, her jaw setting as she tenses. She doesn’t move away, though, just digs her manicured nails into your bare upper arm. “What did you expect, granny panties?”

You give her a little snort, but don’t stop tracing what you think are embroidered flowers. A small pool of dampness is starting to form, but you don’t give her the satisfaction as the pads of your fingers trace every petal. “No, I just sometimes forget that you’re the kind of stuck-up bitch that wears lingerie on a random Tuesday.”

You ignore your mother’s voice in your head telling you that only hussies forgo pantyhose as you move them to the side. Fallon’s breath hitches as the cool air brushes over her wetness, a similarly small gasp leaving her lips when you tease at her entrance. “How long as it been since someone touched you like this, pretty girl,” you whisper, raking your teeth ever so lightly against the shell of her ear. “Or has the rest of the world treated you like an antique, beautiful but untouched in some climate-controlled cabinet.”

You know the answer. Fallon’s a very particular woman, a particularity that also manifested in who she has sex with. Even the careless hookups were chosen with specificity, people she knew could be trusted (or at least blackmailed into silence if need be). You hadn’t been the first woman who fucked her (and who she fucked in return), but the way her body had reacted to yours during those hours-long sessions had you knowing that you were something special to her. Even if you were more object than human, there’d never be another you.

As you rub at her clit her beautiful sighs fill your ears like an award-winning symphony, her body becoming more pliant as pleasure replaces distaste in her veins. You use her acceptance, her letting herself go just a tad, to flip her around so that you and her both face her ridiculously large closet. Her moans are loud, lewd, like they had trapped themselves inside of her throat and just now were releasing themselves from their imprisonment. They go straight to your core, flint striking upon an already raging fire that burns inside of you. Flames lick at your organs as you rub loose, lazy circles, ignoring the frantic bucks of her hips.

“Be patient,” you tell her. The words are firm even though they have no edge. You’d give her anything she asked for in a heartbeat…you’re just trying to keep her from begging so that you can make up for lost time properly and at your own pace. “I’ll give you everything you need, princess. You just have to be patient.”

She whines, but obliges.

You can’t help but laugh when you go to palm at her breasts, untucking her shirt and moving the cup of her bra aside. A bra you can’t see – but can tell from the fabric and raised pattern matches her panties.

“What are you laughing about?” Fallon huffs, trying to shove her ass back to force your fingers deeper.

You ignore her actions, pulling her up so that her back is flush against your chest. “Nothing, just thinking about how you’re such an uptight control freak you wear matching sets when you know you have no plans.”

She has no retort to that. Partially because it’s true, and partially because you’ve got one hand plunging below her panties to insert a single finger inside of her. It’s not enough – for your little size queen it’ll never be enough – but it certainly has her moaning and chewing at her lip to suppress the desperate, slutty sounds.

“C’mon, baby,” you too. “Be loud for me…” You can tell she isn’t convinced, so you lower your voice just a tad and kiss at her neck as you speak. “C’mon, princess. I’ve missed you too much for my first time back to be so quiet.”

And, to her credit, she moans unabashedly. A smile plays on your lips as you realize it’s because she’s desperate to reach her own peak. No, you think. No, she can’t take the reins back like that so easily.

“You come when I tell you too,” you tell her, leaving no room for argument. “I’m gonna count down from five, and I want to feel you come around my fingers when I get to one. Understand?”

You can practically feel the clever retort forming on her lips, but it dies and is replaced by another moan when you fit three fingers inside of her, the other rubbing tight circles around her swollen clit. All she can do is nod.

“Good, princess,” you murmur. Part of you wants to start at a higher number, but you’ve denied yourself this pleasure for too long. Selfishly, you want to see her fall apart in your grasp – and to be the only thing there to catch her as she does so. “Five.”

She moans, tugging her bottom lip between her teeth and digging her hands into whatever skin of yours she can get ahold of. It hurts, the feeling of her nails breaking skin, but you don’t say anything. You deserve that pain – probably more, and she deserves an anchor. All you can do is be thankful she found it in you, and that you were here this time to provide it.

“F-fuck,” her words are strangled, and it’s a struggle to keep her upright. You love it.

“Four.”

You increase the pace of both hands, feeling her stomach tense and watching her hips fuck down onto your fingers. You wish you could record this, and watch it every time you got off. Nothing could be hotter than watching the effervescent, perfectly put together Fallon Carrington fall apart so effortlessly under your touch.

“Three.”

She chokes out a sob, desperate. Whether she wants more to please you or to come, though, is the question.

“Two…” you feel her fight against you, while grinding against the hand that circles her clit. The two parts of her, the one that wants to obey, and the one that wants to chase every bit of pleasure she can find, battle each other. Regardless of who wins, though, you’re determined to reward the champion.

“You okay, love?” you ask. It’s genuine, even if a touch of torture threads itself into your tone.

Fallon nods, breathing harder than you’ve ever seen her pant in her life. “F-fuck you, don’t you dare fucking s-stop,” she threatens through gritted teeth.

All you can do is smile. “One.”

You can feel her clamp down around you, tightening around your fingers like a vice. The most sensitive part her jumps under your fingertips as she screams, spasming under your grasp.

As she comes down from her high you maneuver her to the bed, crashing upon the thick duvet like waves upon a shore. You don’t say anything until her breathing evens out, her eyes closed as she curls around you.

“I didn’t leave you, you know…” you sigh as you say it, the gross feeling of expressing a genuine emotion making your teeth itch. Still, you manage to keep talking – even if it feels like your skin is covered in a thick, wet slime. She turns away, looking straight up as you speak. You don’t try to get her back. “Blake offered to pay for my education through a PhD and said he’d consider funding my research if I stayed away.”

Fallon doesn’t look at you, continuing to stare up at her ceiling. That indignant tone softens just a little as she speaks, her indignant facial expression set in stone. “That’s a lot,” she pauses. “Considering your field.”

You don’t say the quiet part out loud. You’re in engineering, focusing on green technology and environmental justice. Having a world-renowned advocate and scientist on his side would let Black get away with a Hell of a lot more than he is now. It would quell the Steven’s of the world – ones who want to feel good more than they want to be good. Ones who don’t go hunting for grant proposals or know how to use SourceWatch; ones who think straw bans work and bring their own tote bags everywhere they go. In the beginning, you felt guilty, for doing what you did under Blake’s watch. But nothing paid the bills better than oil barons, and when creditors started to come knocking, they didn’t much care for a piece of paper with “I’m doing important environmental research” in reply.

If there’s anyone were to understand what kind of spot you’re in…it’d be Fallon. She’s one of the few people who truly understand Blake’s influence on the world, how hard it is to get out from under his thumb. Which is why she stays silent – doesn’t try to fight you again, or question your choices like friends and colleagues did. She’s just…quiet, tracing your jaw with her right index finger and looking you up and down. “It’s really hard to be mad at you with my father manipulating reality like that.”

You shrug. “Rock and a hard place. Had to take it. Didn’t really have any other options.”

The next question she asks is one you knew was coming, but it still digs the knife deeper into your already scarred heart. “Why’d you come back? Why now?”

Because if I went another day without seeing you I think I’d explode. Because I love you. Because life doesn’t feel worth living if I can’t have you in my life.

You shrug once more. “Knew him and his snitches would be gone, so I took the chance. Figured it’d be better to see you now than at Blake’s funeral.”

She snorts, and you wish you could capture the smile on your face. You don’t want to grab your phone, though, don’t want to risk turning the location on and being found out. And you just burn the image into your memory, praying you see it every time you close your eyes for the rest of your days. “Is that when the contract ends?”

It’s hard not to sigh, to think about the lack of legal protections you have if Blake wanted to fuck you over. “Technically there isn’t a contract. He just checks in on me on the first of every month to hand me a check, ask if it’s enough, and remind me to stay away from you.”

The next question hangs in the air, unasked and unanswered. Why Blake’s always hated you matters less than why Blake wants you to stay away from Fallon. Steven being gay is one thing – he’s already a black sheep, and falls in line when necessary. Fallon’s too…unpredictable. She’s done too much to deserve happiness, to deserve what you can give her. Black would never say this, of course, not to her face or yours or anyone else’s. The excuse you were given was about her focusing on what matters, on restoring the Carrington name. Certainly more flimsy than the truth, but the near-ridiculous amount of zeros at the end of the first check he cut you filled in the gaps for him.

Money talks, just as much as it keeps people quiet.

The both of you are silent as Fallon processes what’s happened, and you watch her face as she does so. It’s been at least eight years since you’ve seen her in person, even if you’ve watched her career closely through a series of Google alerts and trashy magazine email lists. You have no idea whether she’s done the same for you (even though you know she didn’t read either your undergrad, master’s, or doctoral thesis…which you can’t really fault her for. Fallon Carrington is a lot of things, but she is not an expert in mechanical engineering). All you can do is hope she knows you still love her, even after all these years.

Fallon is the one to break the silence, getting up from the bed on shaky knees and opening the safe hidden in her nightstand. “That was a fun conversation. Now get on all fours, because I’m going to fuck you.”

Needless to say, you do as you’re told – even if it’s with a smirk tugging at one corner of your lips and bratty ideas sparkling on the inside of your skull.

#fallon carrington x reader #fallon carrington #lukis writes stuff #fallon carrington fanfic #fallon carrington x y/n #fallon carrington x you

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