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My Favorite G1'rs that Need to Come Back
I'm loving the new season of g3 so far, so to celebrate I'm making a list of my personal faves from g1 that I'd love to see in g3 again!! Plus at the end I'm gonna include the monsters I don't personally need but think will probably be back somehow :3
Gooliope Jellington! My late addition queen. I love her goopy design, I love that she's so giant compared to the other boos, I love her circus aesthetic!! Ideally her doll would be ginormous again, plus I think they could integrate some novi stars moonbow slime so she's lava lampish. At her giant size, she could probably even still have articulation plus goo! Her character could also be potentially fascinating in g3--is she the daughter of the Blob? Or are her parents mad human scientists, creating experiment 8108?
Wydowna Spider. Her design is PEAK. A doll with six arms would be so cool to see again, especially since the varying body types mean the clothes aren't meant to be swapped like before (so her unique shape shouldn't be much of an issue!). In this gen she might even be a were-spider?
River Styxx! Ever since Draculaura brought up pastel goth aesthetics in Nightmare Nightmore I've been seriously missing River. Yes, she was only in one movie, yes, it was for like thirty seconds, but her design is so creepy cute! Plus her ghost design, semitranslucent with bones peeking through, is one of my absolute favorites. Maybe more focus on her candy love?
Luna Mothews. She was done SO DIRTY in the original (sorry to those who loved her she just was not for me). As a mothman (and Mr. Mothmanson) stan, I need a mothier, West Virginian Luna. Maybe she bonds with Scarah over their shared bad luck prophecy powers. Speaking of...
Scarah Screams. I feel like we're getting a banshee in Mrs. O'Shriek considering her name (and a throwaway line about her yelling), but Scarah was such a sweet and lovely character that I'd just love to see her again. And more Irish this time too! An episode explaining the history of bian sidh lore, complete with explaining the Anglicized spelling, would be super cool!
Sirena von Boo. This is almost purely on design alone. The ghostly mermaid tail, the shadowy finned hands, the chain detailing?? She is so iconic in her design (plus her characterization was p cute). Her color scheme is similar to Spectra, so maybe an update for that. Her character could be a really interesting foray into monster afterlife this gen (aka maybe she's the ghost of a teen mermaid, not a ghost-mermaid hybrid).
Kiyomi Haunterly! Yeah, I loved the ghosts lmao. She was such a cool concept! I loved that her face was barely visible yet still there, her lesbian moments w Drac were all ADORABLE, and it was super cool to see ghost lore from Japan. If they bring back monster exchange I think she'd be so fun to see again through that route.
C.A. Cupid!! Chariclo Arganthone, we've all been missing you since 2013. Please come home to Monster High!! Absolutely adored the concept of a bone elemental, for one, plus her radio persona was so fun! I could see her hosting a matchmaking podcast in g3, plus a missed connections EekTok. Since I hc aro Deuce for g3, I think they'd make really great friends. Plus he could teach her that romantic love/matchmaking isn't for everyone!
Elissabat! With all the focus on the were-ruler this season, plus the focus last season on Dracula's PFFT title and what it meant for Draculaura, I think it could be really interesting to see the traditional Vampire Queen return to Monster High. How do tradition-dependent vampires deal with a power struggle between the original vampire royalty and the premiere, first and foremost top monster? Also getting a GOTH goth character might finally get people to stop griping about how g1 was "way gother!!"
Honey Swamp. Okay yes, same as River, she was in one (1) movie for about forty five seconds, but her crocodilian design was one of my favorites in the entire generation. I always thought she was particularly cool since Lagoona ended up more sea monster than "Creature from the Black Lagoon." Honey was the actual swamp monster!! Plus we've already got New Orleans through Apollo, so why not a little New Goreleans as well? More exploration of human cities and their monster counterparts please!
Robecca Steam. She's so far down the list, but I cannot emphasize how much I need my steampunk queen back. More goggles, more gears, more copper and steam! I loved that her father was human, which frankly could be a really cool idea to explore in g3. What are the ethics of monsters created by humans? If humans are monsters too, was Hexiciah alive during a time of peace?
Rochelle Goyle. Her design was always so classic and chic. We've seen some gargoyles in the series so far, but none of them have been animate (or made their sentience known). Plus she could be great friends with Deuce, and maybe even save the day if his gorgon gaze gets out of control.
Hoodude. I'll be honest: as much as I like the idea of a living Voodou doll, the first generation handled him like garbage. Having Frankie practice rituals from a closed religion to make herself a boyfriend was uh...yeah. G3 could take Hoodude in two interesting directions. For one, they could get a consultant who actually practices Voodou to help design the character. He would be a living doll created by a Voodou practitioner, introducing kids to the idea that Voodou is a real religion currently practiced today that isn't evil, isn't witchcraft, and is deeply culturally important. If they're not willing to put the work in (which, honestly, they've been so much better about in g3), he could also make a really fun renamed living doll/plush.
Vandala Doubloons. Another ghost who showed up for thirty seconds in Haunted? In my list? It's more likely than you'd think lmao. This is solely bc I love pirates and I love ghosts, and think a pirate ghost character is always fun. I prefer her design to Dayna Jones's, but I like the daughter of Davey Jones aspect.
Operetta. Last but absolutely not least, I need the phantom of the oprey back again! Her rockabilly pin up style was so cute and her origin story is so batty (her dad is a human, guys). Honestly she'd work so well in g3 with her "monstrous" human father!
And there they all are! My personal faves from g1, brought back into g3. Some of them are just there for the peak design, some for how their lore could work really really well w g3, all bc I love them :3
Bonus list of characters who should probably come back too (due to importance in g1/popularity):
Jackson Jekyll/Holt Hyde (hello human monster conflict!)
Casta Fierce (and Spelldon) (maybe from witch camp?)
Amanita Nightshade (unless Frankie smushed her when they dropped a gargoyle on the corpse flower)
Moanica D'cay (not g1 but a really cool zombie)
Slomo (more zombies!)
Neighthan Rot (more zombie unicorns!)
AstraNova (love an alien)
Catrine DeMew (a solid Scarisian were-cat)
Valentine (I mean. Come on.)
Gigi and Whisp Grant (except less Orientalist this time)
Inivisi-Billy (is he a ghost? is he a normie?)
Lorna MacNessie (her dad is iconic and so is she)
Ari Hauntington (again not g1, but interesting in the g3 politics)
Garrott (I just want gargoyles)
Isi Dawndancer (please hire a cultural consultant this time)
Kiersti Trollson (loved the literal troll who games)
Batsy Claro (a were-bat would be so funny guys come on please)
#mh#monster high#bring em home boys#there are of course always more that I want back#but these are my tops
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The Littlest Wayne
Or, the one where Bruce brings home a baby, and your adorable little face wins the heart of your new, big brothers.
Platonic!Reader and Batfam
"Bruce."
"Don't freak out."
"Bruce."
"You're freaking out. I can see it in your eyes, but don't do it."
"This is a problem. This is an actual addiction and you need help."
"You're overreacting. I need everyone to take a deep breath, in and out, and not freak out."
Dick crossed his arms and glared at his father, narrowed eyes shifting up and down in an extremely pointed manner. Tim and Jason were wearing similar expressions, looking either at Bruce himself or the bundle in his arms.
Damian walked across the room and peered down at the bundle, expressionless.
"Father, come on."
Bruce carefully brushed the edge of the blanket away from your face. You scrunched your tiny nose, disturbed, then settled back down without issue. The billionaire had found you abandoned outside the garage doors of the Gotham Fire Station, left there by some overwhelmed mother no doubt. Unfortunately, that particular station was closed on the weekends, because of course this damned city couldn't staff a fire station 24/7, and if he hadn't found you on patrol, you would have frozen to death on the ground.
"They were in danger!" Bruce insisted firmly, but kept his voice soft so as not to frighten you. "Look — they don't have black hair or blue eyes. You can tell I didn't do it on purpose."
"Why not take the baby to the GCPD, then? Or a hospital?" Jason piped up, unamused. "B, cut the bullshit. You can't keep 'em."
"I brought them here first to ensure they didn't need any immediate medical attention."
"Which is something a hospital could do," Tim said.
"An overcrowded and understaffed hospital, that doesn't have the time to spare to give them direct and undivided attention?" Bruce argued. "The med ward in the Cave is just as efficient as an emergency room, if not more so."
"And the fact that you aren't down there with the baby — the baby you are not keeping," Dick chimed in, holding out his arms for you, "means that they're perfectly fine and can be transported safely somewhere else."
"They're sleeping right now," Bruce said, completely deadpan, and made no move to relinquish his hold over you. "We can't put them in a noisy car and upset them. We can drop the baby off in the morning."
"He's getting dangerously attached," Dick hissed to his brothers. "We need the big guns."
"I'll alert Pennyworth," Damian declared, already ducking out of the room. Bruce scowled, aware the battle was quickly turning against his favor. But he could play dirty, too.
He dropped his shoulders and the furrow of his brow turned slightly down, weary and forlorn. He stopped looking at his boys and instead studied all your tiny features, tracing a finger down the bridge of your nose, gently across your lashes, and over your plump little cheeks. You were absolutely adorable. He was already thinking of names for you in his mind.
"You know, I never got to raise any of you from infancy," he stated, not in any pointed manner, just as objective fact. Just quietly enough that they could think Bruce hadn't meant to say it out loud. "Not that I would've wanted to steal that experience from your birth parents. I would never. But...I don't even know what Damian looked like when he was this small."
Dick's eye twitched. The glare was still in place, but his frown was less severe. One down.
"I'm sorry, boys," he sighed, acting as though he were giving in. "The Mission has taken up so much of my time, it's hard not to wonder what I would have been like as a normal father. Just the formative things, like... like changing diapers, and doing Tummy Time, and helping you guys learn to walk."
Tim's eyes grew distant, likely thinking of his own parents and the loneliness he felt growing up in Drake Manor all by himself. He was no doubt recalling how much he wished his mom or dad had been around, to play or to talk to or just to physically be there with him, instead of off traveling the world and leaving him behind to fend for himself.
Two down.
But Jason, despite all that had happened over the years, despite the strain on his relationship with Bruce, had always been the most emotional of his children. He would not be hard to win over.
"This would be a mistake," Bruce stated, looking his second oldest right in the eyes. "They'd be happier somewhere else, somewhere normal. Maybe...maybe one of you could hold them and I can go start the car? I can feel myself starting to get attached, and that's not fair to you, boys. I didn't mean to stress you all out. I wasn't thinking."
Jason huffed, lowering his feet from where they'd been propped up on the coffee table, and stood from the couch to come take you from Bruce. His arms carefully held you to his broad chest, your weight settling against him pleasantly.
He made the mistake of watching you scrunch your face and whine softly, itty bitty hands poking out from your blanket and gripping onto his shirt sleeve with all the strength your small body could muster.
Jason's expression dropped immediately, and he practically melted as he tucked you closer.
Hook. Line. Sinker.
Damian and Alfred walked into the living room to find Bruce, Jason, Dick, and Tim all cooing and fawning over you, and the war was lost.
Welcome home, Littlest Wayne.
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implied poly!141 x fem!reader
The 141 is delighted the first time they see you lose your shit with a rookie. You're working with a section on the shooting range when some dumb cunt disobeys a direct order and endangers an entire fire team.
"Are ya deaf or just dumb?!" you shout at the soldier who seems to be in shock at the damage his disobedience caused. "You were nearly the reason those three," you sweep your hand to the soldiers being helped to medical by the other fire team, "went home in a box! Yer're sapposed ta have their back. Now yer gunna have to earn their trust all over again. I wouldn' trust ya at my back after that shite." The soldier looks ready to piss himself as you take a deep breath. Instead of railing at him more, you point to the training field and say, "Run a lap a year fer the ages of each of those soldiers you injured, and if you drop or pass out, you'll just need to finish 'em later."
The 141 decide in that moment to make you theirs. Anyone with that much spitfire will be perfect.
And it is.
Until it's not. Until you turn that ferocity on them.
Maybe Soap says something stupid or Ghost does something condescending or Price tries to put you in your place or Gaz underestimates you. And the claws come out.
The boys quickly realize the venom you spewed the first time they saw you is only the beginning. The first day after the incident, you respond to their jokes and flirting with a glare more icy than Price has ever given. Day two, as they squirm under your stare and try to apologize, you are somehow more stoic than Ghost, which none thought was even possible. By day three, they move on to gestures - bringing breakfast to your room, keeping your coffee filled, getting your laundry done - that you simply respond to with words more vicious than Gaz ever delivered during interrogations. Four days in and they're at their wits end. They are practically begging for your forgiveness and approval which is when you go truly feral to a degree Soap could only ever wish to achieve.
The pet they thought they found to round out their group is really a wild animal. And their approach to you changes. They know they need to prove themselves trustworthy, so you accept their love and affection again.
You find insubordinate rookies quickly reprimanded and your own consequences backed by Price and Ghost. And despite how frustrating running training is, you're given more sections to work with. Clearly they trust you as a soldier.
Duplicate paperwork and random checks of your forms stops. Price or Laswell signs off on things in record time. They show they trust your leadership.
Finally, they stop treating you and your presence with them as a default and treasure every moment you spend with them.
more
#cod#poly!141#poly!141 x reader#tf 141#tf 141 x reader#johnny mactavish#kyle garrick#john price#simon riley#nerdygirl says
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In the early stages of going over to meet Bakugou's parents you were visibly uncomfortable, nervous, and always coming up with an excuse to postpone the visits.
Your heart was beating in your chest, hands clammy, eyes almost watery. And even though they were endlessly nice and welcoming towards you, something wouldn't let you shake the fear of being around them and you barely uttered a word, the rides home going with complete silence between you and him.
Bakugou of course had noticed and tried asking you about it, but then you'd feel that lump in your throat, not wanting to explain why you were always so anxious when it came to his parents since you didn't even know the reason yourself, you'd quickly change the subject or use any excuse to leave the room.
The avoidance irked him beyond belief, he wanted to snap and ask his questions straight out ... but he didn't want to run the risk of you crying. So, he sends a text explaining the situation to his parents and asks for advice, how should he approach this?
And the next time you visit, he and his father conveniently have to run out for an errand. You of course rushed to offer to go with them, you couldn't bear the idea of being in Bakugou's home without Bakugou, but they refused saying it'd be rude to make the guest do things for them. So, you were stuck. Alone. With Bakugou's mother sitting on the couch right across from you ....
You look down at your sweaty palms clutching your pants, head racing and praying to God she wouldn't want to talk.
And to your relief, she leaves the room.
Ahh ... you'll live to see another day.
Clink!
You look up slightly to see a plate full of steaming cookies on the coffee table in front of you.
Then you feel the cushion sink next to you and a caramelized floral scent envelops you.
"Glad we got rid of 'em! That boy would have a fit if I showed you these with him around."
Mitsuki was sitting right next to you.
"Well? Go on, grab some, it's rude not to try your host's treats. Brat doesn't like sweets, but these are Katsuki's favorites, I'll give you the recipe later." She winks.
You were dazed for a moment before grabbing one out of fear politeness.
The older lady crosses her legs, opening a thick album you hadn't noticed she'd been carrying and points towards a photo in the bottom right.
"This here is from when we got to bring Katsuki home for the first time. I knew then and there he'd be a pain in my ass. Ugly thing isn't he?"
... what a way to talk about your child.
You lean over a bit to take a look. And a smile makes it's way across your lips. He wasn't the prettiest thing, no, but since you loved him you couldn't help feeling happy at the sight.
She points to another one, "This here is when I caught him getting into my makeup. Masaru had taken the picture since he wasn't paying attention then showed it to me. Nearly chased him down the block when I saw it. Little Bastard was always getting into everything he shouldn't have."
You chuckled through your nose, finally taking a bite of the cookie.
It tasted amazing.
Mitsuki continued to flip through the album, telling you the stories that came with each photo, her way of storytelling garnering a bit a laughter from you and eventually you had your feet tucked on the couch and cheek resting on her shoulder simply listening to her talk. You hadn't even noticed it happen.
She didn't ask you questions about yourself, didn't point out your change in behavior, or even glance your way. It was almost as if you weren't even there. But, you were greatful for that. And she knew.
She had stood when she heard the front door beginning to open and looked at you, raising a finger to her lips, "don't tell Katsuki 'bout this, kay?"
You smiled and nodded, turning around to watch the pair as they walked in.
That was the first time you truly felt comfortable in the Bakugou household.
And you were soon looking forward to each visit, much to Katsuki's relief.
Well, it was relief at first when you were starting to converse and interact more, taking the time to get close to his mom and his dad and asking him about his family on your own.
But then he knew you were getting too close to his family, especially his mom, when you started sighing and asking questions like "Oh, what happened to the Katsuki who would sing just cause he felt like it" or saying things like "You know I think I'm happy I didn't meet you as a kid, we wouldn't have gotten along as well" or even pointing out toys to him like "look, it's just like the one you had as in the past, right?"
Then he knew exactly what made you open up to his family, "Hag's been showing you that damn album, hasn't she?"
And suddenly he didn't know if he should be mad or greatful towards his parents for coming up with their plan to help you grow comfortable around them.
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Red Lace & Holiday Cheer
Thank you anon for this prompt!
Pairing: (ex)pornstar!joel miller x f!reader (established relationship)
Summary: While visiting him at work, you decide to give Joel his Christmas present early.
Warnings: language, alcohol consumption, smut (18+ MDNI), unprotected piv sex, fingering, reader wears lingerie
WC: 4K
Roommates Masterlist
The bar was loud.
It was three days before Christmas. Students on break from college had come home to visit their families for the holidays but the first chance they got, they made plans to connect with friends they hadn't seen since summer. The entire street was packed with twenty-something year olds, every bar was filled to the brim, including the one Joel owned.
You had helped him decorate it for the holidays just two weeks prior. A small Christmas tree with chunky, multi-colored lights sat in the front. Twinkling white lights framed each large window and a garland was wrapped around the door. You even managed to find a spot for a couple large wreaths above the bar.
From your spot on the dance floor with Maria, you could just barely see Tommy's head. He was pouring drinks as fast as possible, hardly giving himself a chance to breathe. Surprisingly, Joel was no where to be found. If you had to guess, he was either bringing up a keg or doing his rounds on the floor, checking in with patrons and seeing if they needed anything while also keeping an eye out for trouble makers.
He had really grown into the role as a bar owner. It seemed like the perfect fit after he had quit the adult film industry. Not only was he his own boss, but he got to work with his brother. Your only complaint was the long nights, although you and Maria tried to frequent the bar at least once a week to see them while they worked. Typically, there was plenty of time to talk, but the week of Christmas had the bar feeling like more of a nightclub.
"Where's Joel?" Maria shouted over the music. You fanned your sweaty chest with your hand and scanned the crowded room.
"I don't know! Don't think I've seen him all night!" you yelled back. You checked the time and frowned. You always saw him at least once, even when it's busy, before midnight. He always sought you out, no matter what. You turned back to Maria with a look of concern.
"I'm gonna go see if I can find him!"
She nodded and gave you a thumbs up before turning her back, still swaying along with the music.
You pushed your way through the crowd, making a face when drunk frat boys or some familiar looking locals who were trying their luck with the college girls accidentally bumped into you. After what felt like an eternity of almost getting beer sloshed down your bright red dress from clueless patrons, you finally bellied up to the bar. You leaned over the edge of the wood, catching Tommy's eye. He nodded in your direction and you sat back on your heels as you waited for him to finish up at the other end of the bar.
"What you need, sugar?" Tommy yelled over the noise. Your gaze flickered down to his cheesy Christmas shirt and grinned.
"Is that thing getting you any extra tips?"
He shook his head and you laughed. "Nah, but it's fun. Tryin' to get into the spirit!"
"It was Maria's idea, wasn't it?" you yelled.
"Hundred percent!" he shouted back. You heard others off to your right trying to get his attention so you cut to the chase.
"Where's Joel?"
"Office! He was on the phone with some vendor last I saw 'em."
You nodded and shot him a thumbs up before you began your second journey, although mercifully it was shorter. His office was just down a short hallway behind the bar. Still, the crowd was thickest and rowdiest right where you were trying to walk. You had almost made it unscathed when you heard a curse and felt a splash of some cold liquid down your arm.
"Shit!" you exclaimed. You began to flick your arm of any excess when a young man's voice shouted out to you.
"I'm sorry!" he slurred, but when you looked up and your eyes locked, a slow smirk stretched across his face. He couldn't have been more than twenty-two, surrounded by his buddies who were giving him little shoves in your direction. He took a few steps forward and held out his hand.
"I'm Chris," he offered. "Lemme buy you a drink, make it up to you."
His eyes slithered up and down your body, clearly appreciating the short red Christmas dress you had chosen to wear that night.
"Thanks, but I'm fine," you said, giving him a wave and turning back towards the bar. He tapped your shoulder and you swiveled around.
"C'mon, it's the least I could do. Almost ruined that gorgeous dress of yours," he tried while licking his lips.
You sighed and crossed your arms.
"I'm dating the guy who owns this place. I can drink for free," you snapped, patience growing thin when you added, "And have anyone thrown out."
Chris whistled and rose his hands in defeat.
"Alright, suit yourself."
He backed away towards his friends and you made quick work of pushing through the remaining crowd to get back behind the bar. The moment you stepped foot in the small hallway, it already felt calmer. You sashayed a little drunkenly past the breakroom and employee bathroom before stopping at the closed door at the end of the hall that had a stocking hanging from it with Joel's name painted in glitter. With excitement tingling under your skin, you rapped your knuckles softly against the wood and pressed your ear against the door.
"It's open!"
The old door squeaked on its hinges when you opened it and slipped inside, smiling when you saw Joel hunched over his desk, scribbling something on an invoice. His office wasn't much to look at; dingy old laminate floors, a desk that looked like it was from the seventies, two tall file cabinets that were overflowing and shoved in a corner, and one measly light above your head that had one bulb burnt out. But it was peaceful. It was quiet. And by that point, it reminded you of Joel. His cologne hung in the air, even when he hadn't been in the room for hours. On top of one filing cabinet was a decorative Christmas tree and on the back of his door was a wreath, both of which you put in there when he wasn't paying attention.
He finally looked up and you saw the tension instantly drain from his face when he saw it was you.
"Hey," he said softly, dropping his pen so he could stand to greet you, chair groaning from the loss. He rounded the desk and pulled you into his arms. Your mouths sought each other out like magnets and you wrapped your arms around the back of his neck with a contented sigh when you finally felt his lips on you once again.
"Where have you been?" you pouted, gazing up at him while still hanging around his neck. His hands flattened against your back, the material of your dress bunching a little and exposing your legs even more.
"Been busy workin'. Sorry, darlin'. Lost track of time," he told you, but his eyes were drifting down your dress. "You been here this whole time wearin' this thing?"
"What? You don't like it?" you teased.
Joel scoffed and shook his head. "Like it a little too much. What's the occasion?" He finally dragged his eyes back up to meet yours.
"The occasion is it's Christmas," you said while your fingers began to fiddle with the short hairs on the back of his neck.
"Christmas ain't for a few more days."
"Well, maybe I wanted to give you your gift early," you smirked. Joel groaned in the back of his throat and pulled you closer so your body was pressed tightly against his. You began to pepper kisses along his neck, pausing when you reached his pulse to whisper, "Unless, that is, you're too busy."
"Lock the fuckin' door," he said lowly. A shiver rolled down your spine and you spun out of his hold to do exactly as he asked.
"Can't just wait, huh?" Joel scolded while he undid his belt and dropped it to the floor. You bit your lip, heart skipping excitedly in your chest as you backed up towards his desk. You stopped when you felt the edge press into the backs of your thighs and grinned.
"Sorry. I just thought you'd really want to open it now." You reached one arm behind you and slowly tugged at your zipper. Joel's eyes darted to lock onto the movement while his hands worked on opening his pants. You could tell he was loving every second of your little show. His lips were parted, breath coming in short pants, and his neck was already growing flush.
When your dress felt loose, you knew you reached the end of the zipper. Your chest heaved with anticipation before finally wiggling out of your dress and letting it fall to your feet.
You weren't lying. You really did have something for him under your clothes, although scraps of material like a see-through red teddy with a plunging neckline was difficult to define as anything substantial.
His eyes immediately bugged out of his head.
"Oh, Christ," he choked out. You giggled, pleased to have taken him by surprise. You hardly ever had the upper hand in the bedroom, not with the experience he brought by being an ex-pornstar, but on that day, you did.
His face paled when he saw your body in that teddy. Well, considering how much skin he could actually see through it, it hardly felt like you were wearing much at all, but Joel didn't seem to see it that way. He was absolutely hypnotized, completely unable to look away. His eyes greedily raked over every inch of you and you smiled to yourself when you realized he hadn't even yet noticed the panties you were wearing were crotchless.
"You like it?" you asked when his gawking had gone on long enough. You twirled so he could see the back, his throat bobbing when he saw the way your ass was exposed in your barely there panties. Joel forced his eyes up when you stood before him expectantly, feeling so excited and nervous that you had to bounce from foot to foot.
"You look beautiful," he finally whispered. You grinned and reached out both hands for him, laughing a little when he stumbled over his own feet to join you. As thrilled as you were to throw Joel off his game, it incited something deep within you when he took control again. He crowded you against his desk and dragged his hands fucking everywhere. Down your arms, over your stomach, across your back, feeling the lacy material under his big hands. And only when one hand cupped your breast and the other reached down to squeeze your ass did your own breath get stolen away.
"You're a bad girl," he murmured against the shell of your ear. Your eyelids fluttered closed as heat pooled between your legs, torturous and aching. "Wearin' this all night while I sat back here fightin' on the phone 'bout goddamn shipping rates?"
A small smile tugged at the corner of your mouth but it quickly melted into a gasp when his teeth pinched your skin, right under your ear.
"Joel," you moaned his name, tipping your head back while his mouth dragged down the column of your throat. You reached between your bodies, fingers searching for the inevitable bulge you knew you would find, and smiling to yourself when you felt his cock jump under your touch.
"Gonna let me fuck you?" you heard him ask. His lips trailed across your collarbone to begin their ascent up the opposite side of your neck. "Right here? In the back of a dirty bar?"
"I'd let you fuck me anywhere," you rasped, hopping up onto his desk and spreading your legs. He stepped between your knees, face buried against your throat and hips pressing stubbornly against your center as he continued to leave red marks across your chest and neck. He chuckled, the vibration from his voice sending shockwaves from your pulse point to the bottom of your stomach.
"Gonna hold you to that one day."
You were in a lust filled haze, completely absorbed with the way Joel kissed you, deep and messy and urgent, to notice when his hand traveled lower. His fingertips grazed between your legs, right where a thin strip of fabric should have been, but to his shock and delight, found nothing except your bare, leaking pussy.
"Fuck me," he groaned, leaning back to get a good look. He swiped his thumb through your slit and you whimpered, causing his dark eyes to snap up to yours with a deadly smirk.
"You liked this, huh?" His fingers spread your folds while your arms began to shake, propped up behind you and ready to collapse. "You liked dancin' around in that short dress, knowin' this soft little pussy was naked under there, waitin' for me to fuck her?"
"Mhm," was all you could muster. Not a single word could be formed in that moment when his middle finger prodded at your opening, testing you, before sinking inside. You tossed your head back with a shaky moan and spread your legs wider, encouraging him to continue, to give you more.
You could only imagine how you looked in that moment; elbows holding you up with your head hanging back between your shoulders in bliss, legs spread wide while wearing slutty Christmas lingerie across his desk as music thumped steadily through the walls. However it looked, though, was worth the hungry way Joel stared down at you with his hand working slowly between your thighs, one thick finger curling but purposely not touching the spot that made you come undone.
Your hips wiggled as you tried to chase his hand, desperate for him to give you what you needed, but he held you down, stilling your movements.
"Quit it."
"Joel," you whined, but he shook his head.
"This is my gift, remember?" he tutted.
He pulled out his finger and you huffed, frustrated. With heavy lidded eyes, you watched him pop the finger that was just inside of you into his mouth. He made a satisfied noise while reaching inside his pants. The second he pulled out his cock, your eyes drifted down and watched as he slowly stroked himself up and down.
You should have been used to him by then, but it never failed to send a wave of nerves through you when you saw the sheer size of him, something that served him very well in his old career and now something only you benefitted from.
One of his hands planted itself at your hip when he came to stand between your legs and he began to drag the tip of his cock through your arousal. You sighed and went to lay down flat across his desk, but he stopped you.
"Nuh uh. Want you to watch," he muttered. You caught his eye and your heart flipped in your chest at the look he gave you. You swallowed tightly and gave him a brief nod, confirming you would do as he asked. Then and only then did he drop his gaze to between your legs, spreading your lips with his thumbs to make room for the thick head of his cock to rest at your opening.
You watched together as he pressed forward ever so slightly, just barely kissing your pussy before pulling back entirely. He did it again and when he shifted back a second time, you gave him a pathetic little whine. His eyes darted back up to yours and he grinned.
"Be patient."
"C'mon, Joel... it's Christmas," you pouted. He chuckled, his stern facade fading, and shook his head.
"Alright," he breathed, and half a second later jut his hips forward, feeding you half his length in one pass. You gasped sharply and fell backwards onto his desk, unable to hold yourself up any longer.
He cursed under his breath, dragging himself back until just his tip remained sheathed inside you, then pushed forward once again, but that time he gave you every devastating inch of his impressive cock. You both gasped, sucking all the air out of the room with your heavy, quick panting as you each struggled to adjust.
"Goddamn," he murmured. Your eyes were squeezed shut, mouth agape as you focused on the stretch, but you pried them open so you could confirm he was just as wrecked as you felt.
"Oh, honey, you look fuckin' beautiful like this." His eyes were fixated on where you were connected, where red lace framed your exposed cunt. His dark eyes snapped up to yours when he very seriously added, "We're gonna get alotta use out of this gift, baby."
"That was the idea," you giggled breathlessly. There was a loud cheer through the walls when the song changed. It sounded like a bunch of guys right up against the bar, just twenty or thirty feet away who had no idea you were about to get fucked within an inch of your life.
"Good song," Joel said casually. He took a deep breath in through his nose and slowly began to rock his hips. Your mind went quiet, not a single thought drifting through your head except for how good it felt when he bottomed out inside you.
He was gentle at first. He knew he was alot to take so he always started with shallow thrusts, paying close attention to your cues. When your thighs relaxed and your breathing evened out, that was when he began to give it to you faster. Harder. Deeper. It was only a few minutes until his hips slammed into yours so forcefully that it had your back arching and your hand scrambling to hold onto the edge of the desk above you.
"Fuck - fuck - fuck," he huffed, each word punctuated with a snap of his hips. You whined and squirmed across the desk, trying to catch your breath. One of Joel's hands pressed flat against the desk for leverage, the other roughly gripped your waist to hold you steady, and his eyes remained fixated on the way your body stretched to accommodate his size. Every single time, it amazed him.
A loud knock came from the door. Your eyes locked, his hips slowed, and you shook your head. You mouthed the word don't. He made a face but acquiesced, then continued to fuck you, just slower and quieter. A second loud knock came and an annoyed Tommy yelled out, "Joel? C'mon, man, we need more Coors."
"Have fuckin' Steve do it, I'm busy!" he shouted back. You scowled then stifled a moan when he ground himself against you, rubbing your clit with the coarse hairs at the base of his shaft.
"Steve's on break!"
Joel snarled and reared back, grabbing the underside of both your knees and tugging you close.
"Gimme five minutes!" he yelled, voice only slightly giving away your compromising position when it cracked near the end of his sentence.
"Five?" you whispered with a disappointed look.
"Ten! Ten minutes!"
Finally you heard Tommy grumble under his breath and retreat back down the hall.
"I'll make you come in five minutes," Joel panted with a cocky grin. He began to pummel into you harder once again, picking up right where he left off. "Wanted to bend you over and come all over that perfect ass, but I'll save that for next time."
You groaned and tilted your chin to the ceiling as you felt that familiar tightness begin to pull low in your belly. Joel shifted, adjusting the way he was standing between your legs, and you cried out when the tip of his cock began to stroke against that spot that had you seeing stars. Blindly, you reached out to hold onto something, but only ended up scattering unpaid invoices and receipts onto the floor.
Words failed you. Heat flared deep inside, bright hot flames roaring to life in mere seconds that had your muscles going rigid and your spine curling off the desktop. There was no warning. There was nothing you could do except give into the intense pleasure as you choked on your words.
"Oh, shit," Joel grunted, hand reaching between you to rub firm circles over your clit. "S-shit, you're gonna come," he gasped right as your cunt clamped down around him. You wailed out a broken version of his name, legs trembling around his waist. He quickly fell forward, his body covering yours, and your lips connected in messy, wild kisses. Seconds later and with a deep groan echoing inside your mouth, Joel came, filling you with his thick, hot release until his cock stopped twitching and a shudder shot through his entire body.
You whimpered Joel's name and that was when he realized you were shaking violently. With his chest still heaving, he propped himself onto his elbows and slid his cock from between your legs before gathering you up in his arms and holding you close, enveloping you with his warmth.
"I got you," he murmured over and over into your hair. You nodded weakly, head still buzzing and hands still shaking. Slowly, your eyes reopened. Your pulse began to slow and your breaths grew deeper each time you pulled in air. You nuzzled your face into his shoulder, sighing from the comforting strokes of his hand over your back.
"You okay?" he asked after a few quiet minutes. You nodded and took a deep breath, the scent of his cologne mixing with his deodorant calming your frayed nerves even more.
"That was... intense," you whispered, lips searching for his throat. Joel continued to soothingly rub your back.
"You did so good, baby."
You smiled and nipped gently at his skin. "Did you enjoy your present?"
Joel's chest rumbled with a soft chuckle before he responded.
"This little number was a beautiful gift, but I don't need any of it, you know that, right?" he asked. "All I want is you."
"Are you saying that all you want for Christmas is... me?" You grinned when you leaned back to look up at him hazily. Joel laughed at your corny joke and cupped your face with both his hands to pull you in for a tender kiss.
"Yeah," he murmured against your lips. "Man can't ask for much else when he's already got everythin' he needs in one perfect little package."
You wrapped your arms around his neck as your cheeks warmed from his compliment. "I love you," you told him earnestly. Every time he heard those words, it made him smile.
"I love you, too."
Right when he leaned down for another kiss, a loud knock cracked against the door.
"Joel! The Coors!"
"God-fuckin'-" Joel grumbled before shouting, "I'm comin' right now! Jesus Christ!"
His eyes found yours and he gave you an apologetic look.
"You gonna be alright? Just gimme a few minutes-"
"I'm good," you told him with a firm nod, then gave his chest a little shove, pushing him towards the door. "Go. You have a bar to run."
He tucked himself back into his pants with a hiss and swiveled around before locating a box of tissues and handing them to you.
"Lock the door after I leave. This," he dragged his finger up and down in the air, indicating your skimpy lingerie, "is just for me to see."
"Yes, sir," you giggled with your legs still dangling over the edge of his desk. He shook his head in disbelief and fixed his shirt before disappearing out into the hallway.
Slowly, you cleaned yourself up as best you could and fixed the teddy before slipping your dress back on, concealing your little secret once again. You had your hand on the doorknob, poised to leave, when a thought occurred to you. Quickly, you shimmied your panties down your legs and hurried behind his desk to drop them in one of his drawers. You smiled proudly to yourself and headed back towards the door, already planning what new set you should surprise him with for Valentine's Day.
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#joel x reader smut#joel miller the last of us#joel miller au#joel miller/reader#joel miller fic#joel miller fanfic#joel miller tlou#joel miller x reader#joel miller smut#joel miller#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller x you#the last of us hbo#the last of us fanfiction#the last of us fic#joel the last of us#roommates fic
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blueberry muffins with mai tail x Lando Norris?🥰
bakery menu
hey! do you want to submit your own order? then hit up the menu!! there's a whole host of things to check out. there are endless options and combinations. i accept larger orders and orders from fandoms outside of f1. i like writing these so i keep makin' em! so thank you! and for this anon thank you for the short and sweet order! i hope you love it!!
blueberry muffins ("i don't think it'll fit") + mai tai (loss of virginity) served by lando norris (formula one)!!
cw: smut/pwp, first time/loss of virginity, slow sex, lando takes your virginity (and is very nice about it), best friend!reader
when you were a teenager, you would often have dreams of this happening. to be intimate with the likes of lando norris, a boy turned man that you had known for a large chunk of your life. you had admitted to him during his visit back home that even after all the time you were still a virgin.
and without much thought he asked, 'want me to fix that?" and you almost fell out of your seat at the bar.
you swallowed and said, "yes." and while you'd try to play it off like the alcohol talking. that was a big fat lie, about as big as the crush you'd been harbouring for lando since your days in school.
you walked back to your flat, lando's hand in the back pocket of your jeans. you took a detour to an corner shop opened at this hour and bought a small pack of condoms. better safe than sorry.
"last thing you want to happena fter your first time i get pregnant." he laughed, "especially by the likes of me." then paid for the condoms before he led you out of the store and back to your flat. he remained close to you, loving the feeling of such intimacy between the two of you.
he kept an arm around you with the condoms in the back pocket of his jeans. you led him up the steps to your place and got the door open. once it was closed behind the both of you, lando took you by the shoulders and pulled you into a kiss.
"you have no idea how beautiful you are." he said.
"there's no need to butter me up, lando." you laughed as you gave him a little bit of a shove. but he only came back closer and held your chin to kiss him.
when the kiss eventually broke and you grabbed him by the wrist to bring him to your bedroom. that was when the clothes came off. lando put the pack of condoms on the nightstand as you got into the bed. lando eyed you up and down and licked his lips without thinking.
"and no one has ever had sex with you?" he couldn't believe it. the sight of you was beautiful, sitting up on your bed and looking at him, "no one? at all?"
you shook your head, "no one.. i just was too busy."
lando nodded as he got into bed with you. he was naked and he reached for you. he touched your soft skin, "are you sure you want to do this? i don't want you to feel pressured."
you shook your head, "it's all fine, lando." you reached for him an softly kissed him on the lips. his hand trailed up and down your side before he put you on your back. he eyed you down, taking in the sight of you.
"good. i want this to be good for you." he cupped your face, "you only deserve the best." he stroked his cock before he leaned over you to grab one of the condoms from the package. he got it on before he leaned back to look at you.
"i don't think it'll fit. what if it doesn't fit?" your words were a bit of an ego boost, but lando wanted to assure you. of course he looked like he wasn't going to fit, you had never been with anyone else.
"then i'll spend all night making sure it fits for the next time." he promised as he got into your space once more.
you got your legs around his waist at his request and he rubbed the protected tip of his cock up against your slick pussy. he sank into your pussy slowly, he took his time to make sure you were comfortable.
"are you okay?"
you nodded in response, "yeah, just never felt this before. this is different than any of my toys." your cheeks went hot, "better though! much better!" you shifted a little in your spot on the bed.
when he got to the base, he exhaled. he felt a shudder in his body. you felt like a dream. you were painfully beautiful. you drove him wild. you had for years, even when you over plucked your eyebrows and had braces in secondary school. beautiful then, beautiful now.
lando was lucky to be the one to take your virginity.
he moved against you slowly. his hands on your hips as he rocked against you. he wasn't putting too much force behind his thrusts, he couldn't. this was your first time and he didn't want to scare you. he could tell that your cheeks were warmed, even if he could see them fully due to hands covered your face.
"don't hide from me, beautiful. i want to see it all." his words were comforting as he moved against you. he rocked against you, his pace slowly gained momentum. he added, "please, beautiful."
you hated how his words impacted you, they made your cheeks feel flushed as you pulled your hands away and pulled him closer to you by the shoulders. he kissed you deeply as you moved against one another. you moaned against his lips and your stomach was in knots. here you were, under your best friend. letting him fuck you like you had dreamed about for years.
as if lando didn't do the same all that time. even when he was with other people, he thought of you. he wanted to make sure it was all special for you. even thrust, kiss and movement was perfect for you. as it was what you deserved. a perfect for time.
"you feel great, lando. thank you."
"of course, anything for you, beautiful. better me than some scumbag from your school. someone you could trust." someone you could love. but those words hung on his tongue before he brought you in for another searing hot kiss. lando had been playing chicken with his feelings for years, which was why he jumped at the chance to have sex with you.
and the way you looked at him as he moved against you was the hottest part. you looked up at lando like he hung the stars in the evening sky. that he was for a brief moment your entire world. the universe confined to your shoe box bedroom where the bed was creaky from years of sleeping. it wasn't used to these kinds of activities.
it didn't take long for you to feel close to climax. it felt similar to when you pleasured yourself in the same bed. but the movements made the air get caught in your throat. oh, this was something else. you panted and whined as the other man looked down at you.
"fuck you're beautiful." he panted as he rutted against you. his movements were quick, but not painfully rough. he held your hips for good leverage. i could feel the sweat as his temples and his heart hammering in his chest.
he knew he was a lucky man.
your toes curled and your back arched when you climaxed first. lando would make sure you got yours first before he got his. and when you relaxed after reaching your peak, he hiked your hips a little higher and moved against your faster. to a speed that he knew was going to send him over the edge.
you scratched a this back, leaving pretty red lines and he continued to fuck you. this was something else. he knew he wouldn't last long and soon he finished inside the condom while inside of your sweet pussy. he groaned into your shoulder and arched his back from the heightened pleasure.
"date me." he said, "please. just date me."
you blinked at him, you immediately coming back to your senses, "what?"
he kissed you as he slowed his hips to a stop, "let's go out, for real. not when we'd go on pretend dates as kids. i want you... more than this. everything."
you kissed him once more before he pulled out. the fight taken out of both of you. your heart pounded from his words. the deceleration felt like a streak of cold through you. but in a way that made you alert. you had been friends for years.
it would make sense, but still it left you breathless.
you laid curled up in his arms. focusing on his sleepy breathing he was practically knocked out by the time his climaxed. he kept you in his arms. protecting you while under the covers, you had suddenly become a safety blanket for him. you carefully trailed your fingers up and down his arm. this was a dream come true, but you were left wide awake. lando wasn't asleep long as he woke up a little bit.
he yawned a little bit, eyes slightly closed, "go to sleep, beautiful." he said tiredly, "i'll ask you out for real tomorrow. flowers and all that. can't right now, just wanna hold you" then shifted you closer to him and fell back to sleep.
tomorrow you'd have to have a grown up conversation about what you were. and the only thing that allowed you relax for the night was the promise that he'd ask you out. that lando wanted you as much as you wanted him. <3
#bunny writes#the bakery#reader insert#formula one imagine#formula 1#formula one smut#formula one fanfiction#f1 smut#formula 1 fic#formula 1 rpf#formula 1 fanfic#f1 rpf#f1 fic#f1 x reader#f1#lando norris x reader#lando smut#lando norris smut#lando norris fanfic#lando norris#ln4#ln4 x reader#ln4 fic#ln4 smut
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I love your writing so so much, it brings me so much joy and comfort too!! Sometimes all I need is to think about those strong men protecting me when I need and your work is the the best example I could ask for <333
Do you have any new thoughts on the roommate au?? I am such a sucker for this trope and yours is just aaaaaaaaa fantastic
Thank you sm!! 🫶🏻💕💕 i will always have thoughts about them trust i love them 🙏🏻
Roommate au masterlist
Listen, if you get anxious easily about not turning things off when you leave the apartment and the boys aren’t home, you video it and send it to them, and they adore how you act and look in those clips.
It started as something small- just you filming the stove knobs and unplugged appliances, your voice soft as you narrated each check for the camera. “Oven off. Stove knobs turned off. Coffee maker unplugged. Straightener unplugged and cooled down.” You’d pan the camera slowly, sometimes with shaky hands, capturing every detail just to ease your own nerves and show them that you can, in fact, be trusted.
The first time you sent one, Kyle responded immediately with a thumbs-up emoji and a text that said, “Looks good, love. Don’t worry about a thing.” But what you didn’t realize was how intently he’d stared at the video before replying, noting the way your lip caught between your teeth as you whispered to yourself, your brows furrowed in concentration. He didn’t tell you, but he saved it to his phone, alongside the others that followed.
Price had been the one to gently encourage you to keep sending the videos. He called it a “good habit,” his voice steady and reassuring. “It’s smart of you to double-check. Just send ’em over anytime, sweetheart. We’ll always let you know if it’s all clear.” But even he couldn’t help how warm he felt when he watched them- when he saw your sleepy eyes and bedhead on mornings you had to leave early, or the way you looked in a cozy sweater with your phone angled slightly upward as you held it with both hands.
Simon never said much about the videos, but you could always tell he watched them immediately. He’d text back short replies- “Checked.” or “You’re good.”- but what you didn’t know was how many times he replayed them. There was something about seeing you move around the kitchen, your voice quiet and trusting, that set him at ease. If he was away, somewhere cold and distant, those clips grounded him. They reminded him what he was protecting, what was waiting for him back home.
Johnny, on the other hand, teased you endlessly the first few times. “Afraid the toaster’s gonna grow legs, bonnie? Or maybe the microwave’s plannin’ world domination?” But the teasing softened quickly, especially when he caught one video where you lingered a little longer than usual, chewing on your lip before whispering, “I think I checked everything. But I’m still worried. Is it okay?” His teasing stopped completely after that. Instead, he started sending voice messages back.
“You’re fine, love. Swear it. Everything’s perfect. But if you need me to check it again later, just say the word.”
And they all noticed the way you fidgeted- how you tugged your sleeves over your hands or adjusted the strap of your bag. They noticed the way you bit back a nervous smile after saying goodbye to the camera, even if it was just to show them one last shot of the locked door.
What you didn’t realize was how much those videos had become part of their routine- how they looked forward to seeing your face and hearing your voice, even if it was just to confirm the stove was off.
Over time, they noticed the changes- the steadier voice, the quick smiles, the trust woven into your words. You started teasing them in the clips, calling Johnny out for double-checking the oven too often or joking that Simon should inspect the locks himself next time.
They replayed those moments more than they’d admit, holding onto your voice during long nights away. And when they finally came home, they saw the difference the way you leaned into them, letting them take care of everything.
#noona.asks#noona.writes#cod x reader#cod x you#cod#tf 141 x reader#tf 141 x you#tf 141#cod imagines#john price x reader#ghost x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#soap x reader#simon ghost riley x you#gaz x reader#ghost x you#johnny soap mctavish x reader#poly!141 x reader#kyle gaz garrick x you#poly 141 x reader#poly 141#soap x you#simon riley x reader#kyle gaz garrick x reader#poly 141 x you#poly!141#johnny soap mctavish x you#gaz x you#john price x you
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୨ᰍ sypnosis. beach day w the main four ! — going to the beach with them.
disclaimers. light swearing, suggestive content.
notes. ugh just got swarmed with tons of homework :( + two upcoming ken fics !
eric cartman.
literally like a guard dog.
everytime he sees someone staring at you for two seconds too long he takes it into account, and attacks them with insults. because as he puts it, the view is only for his eyes.
is drooling all over you but hides it, stares holes into the back of your head, and other places.
besides that he treats you as usual, but with his own kind of attention—such as calling you pretty, his queen. etc. [ im sorry i cant help but make cartman a mix of a bastard and simp ]
asked you to put sunscreen on him, mostly just chills on the beach instead of actually swimming.
sort of follows around everywhere you go when hes not sitting down.
falls asleep while hes laying on the beach chair and and gets a sunburn, is crying to you the next day how much it burns.
screams when he sees his skin peels.
back to the actual beach part, he always holds your hand, even when laying down, as long as your beside or near him at least.
is mean to almost everyone there, especially if their “in his way.”
kenny mccormick.
is all over you, never lets you get even a breath of space.
opposite of cartman, and actually begs you to swim with him.
lets be honest, hes putting his face in your chest, no matter how small or big they are, he just loves em’
doesn’t even mind when other people are looking at you, he loves showing you off because he loves showing other people what they can’t get.
swipes drinks off the bar when other people aren’t looking.
if someone flirts with you or him, he makes it very clear that he is not interested, and if your the one being flirted with he is standing right behind you.
although, if your not able enough to stand up for that, he’ll gladly deal with it for you.
he loves swimming but if you offer to lay down with him, he’ll pass on swimming, just the feeling of being with you is much more of a rewarding feeling then feeling the hot sunlight on him and cold waters.
brings a bunch of convenience store snacks so you don’t have to buy any of the ones they serve there.
calls you his belladonna
kyle broflovski.
brings tons of things, a canopy, chairs, snacks, sunscreen, etc.
insists on putting on sunscreen, puts it on you aswell : ]
even if he is a pretty pale guy.
carries you almost everywhere, he treats you especially special because he doesn’t want you to lift a finger or worry your pretty little head.
is in between, hes fine with swimming and chilling, its up to you.
a bit off topic but he loves when you call him pretty boy, it can get him to do anything, just something i wanted to point out.
if you just so happen to praise him for being so helpful, or taking cafe of you the entire day, he acts as if its not that big of a deal. As humbly as possible.
swimming with him is fun because i feel hes a bit competitive with it. he tries to swim all super far away.
remember that episode where the waterpark floods with pee? yeah, thats what terrifies him.
that takes him a while to get in the water.
stan marsh.
frankly; was not his idea to go to the beach, but once he goes he’s running straight to the water.
the type to hold his breath under water just because.
probably falls asleep when he does lay down after all the running and swimming, or shoves food down his throat.
after his nap wakes up with sand in his mouth and freaks the fuck out.
doesn’t even try to hide it, he straight up swipes drinks off the bar and if someone mentions anything—he doesn’t even spare them a glance.
brings one of the digital cameras and takes photos of you two.
got chased by a dog.
forgets that sunscreen exists and gets sunburned terribly.
as soon as he gets home he tapes the photos on his walls.
mostly a chill guy at the beach.
#jujuupdated. ഒ#south park x reader#south park#x reader#eric cartman x reader#kenny mccormick x reader#kyle broflovski x reader#stan marsh x reader
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Hi!! Could I please order a spicy hot chocolate for Spencer Reid? (Like you know, the ones that people put cayenne pepper in?!)
You’re an incredible writer and human!
BROTHER'S BEST FRIEND | Spencer Reid x Reader
description: your brother brings home his dorky college classmate, Spencer
length: 2.5k
warnings: spicy, SMUT (omg Em attempts smut and even then its pretty tame but why are my hands shaking), minors dni! heed my warnings this is not for you minors!! nipple stuff, mens genitalia mentioned, Spencer and reader get horny for one another oop. I really hope this is okay I've literally written smut once and even then I second guessed myself so much. SEASON ONE GLASSES SPENCE. BROTHER'S BEST FRIEND SPENCE. smut under the cut.
You felt eyes on you without even having to turn where you were stuffing laundry into the washing machine, your face sweaty with the midsummer heat.
“Jesus Christ, you look like Hot Topic threw up on you,” Your brother’s voice resounded as two sets of footsteps entered the kitchen, and someone cleared their throat where you were bent over, denim shorts riding high up your ass cheeks.
Flicking a look over your shoulder, you pulled the spoon full of peanut butter out of your mouth, yanking a headphone out of your ear to address him.
“Don’t shit your pants, dickbrains, it’s all I have until my clothes are clean,” You snapped at Ryan, tongue dancing with the creamy, sweet spread, and your eyes dropped to his left where his best friend fussed over his sweater cuffs, a duffel bag on his back, and your eyes softened as you saw Spencer looking flushed in your kitchen, “Hi, Spence,”
“Hi,” He peeped shyly, and you smiled widely at the obscenely tall boy who had been to your house a number of times. Ryan had met Spencer on the first day of college, or at least his first day. For Spencer, it had been six years already, his third doctorate well underway, and the two had quickly bonded over something dumb and nerdy you’d never bothered to take note of. You clicked the dials on the machine to a low setting, pouring some detergent into the drum and pressing the ‘Start’ button.
“You guys doing homework?” You asked, fixing where your shirt slouched off the side of your shoulder, exposing your lack of bra and baring your collar bones, and you were quick to catch the way Spencer’s hazel hues fell there with something fleeting and guilty in his expression.
“We’re not twelve years old calculating how many watermelons Sally and Jess have all together,” Your brother scoffed, screwing his lips in annoyance, just as much as any twenty year old pumped full of hormones and energy drinks. “We’re writing a paper on thermodynamics; Spencer’s staying over tonight,”
Rolling your eyes at his know it all snark, you pulled a face back at him, despite the fact you were one year older. You looked to his left where Spencer stuffed his hands in his pockets, his cheeks pink as he caught himself like a fly in honey in one of your usual arguments.
“Do you want a drink, Spence?” You offer, ignoring Ryan’s shitty attitude, heading over to the fridge and swinging the door open, your fathers bottles of beer clinking together where they lay flat on the top shelf.
“Soda would be great, please,” Spencer murmured, trying not to stare as you leaned over, those little, black hot pants skirting up so far his face felt feverish and he forced himself to look at the linoleum tiles in a scrambled attempt to control his thoughts.
He felt like a kid again, with a stupid little crush on the older girl who batted her lashes and called him Spence and smiled at him like you knew exactly how you made that big brain of his turn to mush when you spoke to him.
Handing him a Coke, he tried to ignore the way your cold fingers brushed and avoided your gaze at all cost.
“Thankyou,” He said, his voice cracking in the very middle of it in a way that made him feel like a total loser, and he heard you giggle, his neck growing a prickling hot.
Before you could say much else, his friend grabbed his sleeve, tugging him in the direction of his room where you couldn’t bother them anymore.
Spencer was thinking about your laugh the entire afternoon, until they gave up writing and turned to watching Star Trek, the evening air quickly turning humid and dark, and he begged the tightness in his boxers to leave him be for even just a second.
Only, he found no such luck, tortured by the thought of you being just a single flight of stairs away from him.
–
You were doing dishes by the time you heard him again. Assuming it was Ryan, you made no effort to greet him since it usually was only responded with a grunt or cuss anyways.
Except you could tell by the footsteps that were too careful, the presence that was too soft, even by the way he cleared his throat nervously, that it certainly wasn’t your obnoxious brother who had come into the kitchen for a midnight snack.
Whirling around at the sound, Spencer stood on the other side of the dining table you'd been sitting at just a few hours ago eating pasta and listening to your mom recounting her stressful day in the office. Thin, framed glasses perched on his nose, ones you’d never seen before, glinting in the light from the oven as he blinked at you behind the lenses.
“Spence,” You said with a tired smile, eyes dropping to his shirt and plaid trousers, “Cute jammies,”
He paused for a second, looking down to the grey Doctor Who set, a diagram of the TARDIS splayed across his chest, and he blanked when he tried to figure out if you were kidding or being genuine, “Thank you. You too,”
He didn’t know why he’d said it, maybe because that’s just what you do when someone is being kind, except only then did he look at what you were wearing, and impossibly so it was even more scandalous than what you were wearing earlier.
A tank top, if he could even call it that with how far it rode up, and a lacy pair of blush underwear, a pretty white bow resting just below your belly button.
Following his gaze as it devoured your exposed appendage, you grinned at him devilishly, “Sorry, it gets pretty hot in my room at night,”
“Y-yeah I can imagine you-you’re hot,” He stammered, realising what he said when you raised a brow at him, “B-because you’re a floor up, I mean, and heat rises because hot air has a lower particle density than cool air although some physicians believe-”
“I know what you meant, Spence,” You said with a smirk, moving around the table to stand in front of him, your feet padding softly against the cold floor. Looking up at him with a tilted head, you inspected the frames you realised were a mahogany brown now you were close enough to see them properly, you peered past the lenses and right into where his doe eyes stared back at you, skittish and flustered, “Are these new?”
Spencer licked his lips nervously, “I used to wear glasses when I was a kid but now I wear contacts,” He said, rubbing clammy palms over his trousers. He could smell your detergent from here, the same one he’d seen you pour over your laundry just a few hours earlier, ‘Blossom breeze’ or something girly and sweet and floral like that. He didn’t know the brand, but it was entirely intoxicating, except he suspected it had nothing to do with the liquid and more to do with the fact he could see your nipples pressing against your shirt when you stood so close to him, “Girls don’t really think scrawny guys in glasses are.. hot,”
You sniggered, though your brows furrowed the slightest bit, “Who told you that?”
“Lot’s of girls, more than once actually, it’s just kind of common knowledge,” He fumbled, his chest pricking with nerves when your fingers moved up to grip his waist gently, thumbs danced down his hip bones, the gentle touch alone stirring his cock into a painfully hard stance. He gulped, the sound loud in the sombre twilight of the kitchen, and for a guy who had aced every single test he’d ever taken, who played chess against himself for fun to guess his next five moves, Spencer had no clue where he existed outside of your body so close to his, looking at him like he was a puppy begging for treats if he gave paw.
“I think those girls are absolute boneheads if they can’t see how pretty you are, Spence,” You said his name as if it was the only one that had ever mattered, and he couldn’t help how his chest swelled at the sentiment, even if he wasn’t so off guard as to actually believe that. You’d always had this way of making people feel special, he saw it at your family barbecue last Summer, when your cousins flocked around you like you were their Queen Bee, how you seemed to make waiters and waitresses alike flush under your preening smiles and 'please's and 'thankyou's whenever you took Spencer and your brother out for dinner.
“T-thankyou,” He replied after a thick breath, his chest rattling as you pulled him towards your calm figure, and he let himself be guided like he were leashed, “Y-you’re pretty too,”
He wanted to tell you so much more than that, that you were beautiful like all the popular girls at school were, only humble and kind like the golden part of you glittered inside too, except before he could even attempt at expanding on his three pathetic little words he’d stammered through laboured breaths, he effectively got fully disconnected from his brain when you leaned in towards his face and brushed your nose against his, testing the waters.
Your gaze trailed up to his innocently, so close he could feel your minty breaths fanning over his bottom lip, and he guessed you’d already brushed your teeth ready for bed.
“You really think I’m pretty, Spence?” You asked naively, even if he knew it was just because he forgot how to speak when you were too forward, as if you were trying not to spook a deer. He nodded quickly, his eyes zeroing on where your mouth was mere centimetres away from him, one single shiver in his spine and he would be kissing you, and like you’d heard his train of thought, you pushed your lips against his softly, his body jolting with an electric shock.
There could be sirens surrounding the entire house and he would be none the wiser, because in mere seconds his blood was rushing through his eardrums, sounding like radio static, and it was only when he felt the vibration of it against his mouth did he realise you’d whined, and his hands sprung to life, cupping both your cheeks and tugging you closer to his face as if he was clinging onto every second of the feeling.
Spencer groaned, a sound he didn’t even realise he was going to make until he felt your fingers squeeze him lightly, and he snapped back into his body like a hair tie slinging him back into a world where the girl he’d had a teeny, tiny, maddening crush on for months was making out with him in her kitchen.
“‘Gotta be quiet, baby, my parents are asleep,” You said, breathless as you ripped yourself away from him, despite the fact he was insistently pulling you back towards his mouth, and you smiled up at his urgency, “You ever kissed a girl before, Spence?”
He sighed, and you’d never counted him as sassy until you heard it, almost spoiled and bratty now you’d given him a taste of heaven and held it back from him for the sake of small talk.
“Once, at recess in fifth grade, but it wasn’t like this,” He said, yanking you back towards him ravenously, and you let him devour your lips again, grinning into his desperate mouth, “Never been like this,”
You weren’t sure whether he meant himself or what was likely a peck on the lips between kids as a dare, but you didn’t think too hard about it, as you slotted yourself back into his rough hands, calluses on the insides of his right fingertips from the years holding a pen so hard he might just break it. He felt your mouth open, and he followed your lead, your tongue feathering out with a shyness you showed nowhere else. And it was like every single statistic and number and fact about sharing saliva flew out of his head with wanton need as he dove right for the source, the tip of his tongue meeting yours with a warm nudge and he heard you mewl in pleasure.
Spencer didn’t know what had come over him. Only moments ago he’d been too nervous to even look at you in fear of stumbled around a few syllables and calling them words. Yet here he was, his glasses slipping down his nose and pressing against the bridge of your own, your chest pressed so close to him he could feel your nipples pebbling against his TARDIS shirt, and it was like it was then he remembered you had no bottoms on except your panties.
He hooked a hand underneath one of your legs, hiking it up to his waist and pushing even further up against you, the sudden movement making you gasp, your lower back hitting the dining table as his pubic bone ground against the ball of nerves that had been aching since you caught him shuffling around your kitchen in his damn Doctor Who pyjamas.
Sliding his broad fingers up, your skin spread into gooseflesh and it was your turn to become putty under his touch as he bravely grabbed a handful of your arse, though his touch was still light and uncertain if he was crossing any boundaries. The change in position meant you felt yourself leaning back, your spine spreading out like a cat in warm sunlight, and he was quick to accommodate you, ever eager to please as Spencer was, moving away from the warmth of your mouth and kissing his way down to your pulse, the feeling of it making both of you hum on quietened tones in pleasure.
“Why have we never done this before?” You asked breathlessly, your chest rising frantically as you gasped for air, a hushed moan bleeding into your airways.
Spencer held you upright with one of his long arms, thought his mouth devoured a path over your collar bones, heading right for where your breasts lay in wait, and he didn’t even bother trying to remove your top as he kissed over your nipple with hungry, warm lips.
“I dunno, probably because Ryan wouldn’t be too happy with me trying to fuck his sister while he’s eating dinner,” Spencer said without thinking, his tone sharp and witty as ever, like the noises you were making and the desperation in your touch seemed to rewire his thoughts into something overindulged.
But you laughed, loud enough you slapped a hand over your mouth to stop yourself from waking up the whole house, because you had no idea how you’d explain to them why you and Spencer had ended up half sprawled on the dining table as he practically fixed himself onto every inch of you. And without warning he chuckled too, the vibration blowing over your skin that was already humming with excitement.
“Do you think we could do this more often?” You asked, raising yourself up onto your elbows as his hands spread over your stomach, riding your top up just the smallest bit so he could kiss over your stomach, his pupils blown out into planets behind his glasses, his cheeks tinged raspberry red, his gaze drunken like he was in some sort of sugar rush only ready to stop when he’d gotten his fill, though at the rate he was going Spencer thought that day might not actually come.
You were a drug, a nectar he’d never come close to, and he felt like every kiss to your skin only made that well in his stomach dig deeper and deeper, possibly never running dry as his every thought overflowed with drops of you, and your smell, and your taste, and your tongue.
Missing your lips, he moved back up to your face, crashing his mouth back onto yours as your fingers raked through his hair, the sensation jolting his rod like appendage into you own pelvis, the two of you shivering with the feeling of it.
“I think we can arrange that,” He murmured, and you grinned up at him devilishly as he fiddled with the cotton hem of your underwear nervously, his boldness wearing off as he saw that glint in your eyes that spelled trouble. But he understood that nervous and excitement felt so similar it was easy to mistake one for the other, perhaps even mesh both together at the same time, and the logical explanation for his clammy hands and racing heart seemed to soothe him the slightest bit.
He loved sleepovers at your house.
#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid imagine#criminal minds x reader#spencer reid fanfiction#matthew grey gubler x reader#matthew gray gubler x reader
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˖⁺。˚⋆˙make you mine | CL16 LN4 ˖⁺。˚⋆˙
pairing: charles leclerc x singer!reader y/n (she/her) x lando norris
genre: social media au, polyamorous relationship
warnings: just polyamory & fluff
summary: in which you never censor yourself online but your boys wouldn't change you for the world
a/n: i luv the polyamory reqs lollll
request!!!: I've been obsessed with Charlando recently so I was wondering if you could maybe write a smau for them with singer!reader, I don't have a plot other than the fact that they are dating someone like Renée Rap with zero PR training, can you imagine the chaos
fc: madison beer
my masterlist
twitter ->
instagram ->
charles_leclerc posted a story
liked by landonorris, carlossainz55, and 432,054 others
landonorris you're telling me
liked by charles_leclerc
user1 omg aw
user2 awww our precious girl
user3 still not used to u dating her
landonorris posted a story
liked by charles_leclerc, yourusername, and 389,766 others
user4 charlando looking after y/n <3
charles_leclerc only if we feed her 🤔
landonorris well..... true
user5 yummm pancakes
francisca.cgomes i miss her
landonorris i told her and she literally squealed at the mention of your name..
francisca.cgomes heheheee that's my girl
landonorris and here we were, thinking she was ours
messages ->
instagram ->
yourusername posted a story
liked by francisca.cgomes, lilymhe, and 982,712 others
user6 omg
user7 i am no better than a man
user8 what have they done this time
liked by yourusername
landonorris baby please we said sorry it was an accident
charles_leclerc ma belle please we're begging
francisca.cgomes posted a story
liked by charles_leclerc, yourusername, and 134,927 others
charles_leclerc she's with YOU?
landonorris return her to us this instant
francisca.cgomes idk what you're talking about 🤷♀️
user9 make em squirm
user10 😍
yourusername 📍 paris
liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris, and 1,043,365 others
yourusername the boys forgot about me but she never would
tagged: francisca.cgomes
view all 8,943 comments
francisca.cgomes i wouldnt dream of it sweetheart 😍
yourusername stop im blushing....
landonorris stop flirting where we can see it charles is distraught
yourusername so was i when i realised you'd both forgotten to include me in your travel plans
user11 LOL is she being serious😭
user12 the most beautiful wags by far
pierregasly go away back to monaco and free my girlfriend
yourusername YOUR girlfriend? huhhh i know you aint talking about my girl kika
pierregasly @.landonorris @.charles_leclerc please make her forgive you so i can live in peace
charles_leclerc you don't think we're trying 😢
francisca.cgomes try harder 😋 (or dont) (i love having her around)
user13 LOL y/n always brings the chaos to social media 😭
user14 i just know lando & charles' PR team are tired
messages ->
instagram ->
yourusername posted a story
liked by francisca.cgomes, carlossainz55, and 671,346 others
lilyzneimer deserved
yourusername right?!
user15 hahaha what a fun spectacle to watch unfold via instagram
carlossainz55 you guys are crazy
yourusername 😘 perhaps true
carlossainz55 no, definitely true
user16 i know this was charles' idea
charles_leclerc 📍 monaco
liked by pierregasly, yourusername, and 844,971 others
charles_leclerc time to get serious for the home race
tagged: yourusername, landonorris
view all 7,375 comments
pierregasly thank god
charles_leclerc 🤨
user17 OMG THEY R SOOO CUTEEE TOGETHER
user18 im so jealous of them
yourusername get my boys on the podium!!!! 🥇
liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris
user19 she gets it
landonorris us going back to being rivals on the track: 😢
charles_leclerc my heart isnt in it, dont worry
user20 omg why is the cutest thing ever
yourusername posted a story
liked by francisca.cgomes, lilymhe, and 612,854 others
lilymhe bored much?
yourusername they are too busy and serious to entertain me. send help
lilymhe im coming to collect you immediately
francisca.cgomes they bored you into becoming an impromptu artiste?
yourusername pretty much 😂 lily said the same thing
francisca.cgomes ok good cause me too. On my way!
user21 trust y/n to supply us with the charlando content 😻
twitter ->
instagram ->
yourusername 📍 monaco
liked by lilymhe, oscarpiastri, and 1,024,736 others
yourusername congratulations to my boys on p1 and p2 🩷✨🎀🥰🌸💘🌷🩰 never been so proud in my life!!! by the way i just dropped a new song called make you mine .. this one's for my boys:))) ily all
tagged: landonorris, charles_leclerc, lilymhe
view all 14,827 comments
user26 NO WARNING?????
user27 what the fuck
lilymhe i screamed tbh
alex_albon can confirm
yourusername oh stop it you guys 🤭
francisca.cgomes IIIII WANNA FEel the RUSHH
yourusername real 👀
user28 SCREAMMMMMM
user29 our chaotic queen 👸
landonorris oh my god baby
charles_leclerc no way
messages ->
instagram ->
landonorris posted a story
liked by yourusername, carlossainz55, and 716,826 others
user30 oh god i love these three
oscarpiastri cute
lilyzneimer love her <33
user31 sickly sweet😭
charles_leclerc posted a story
liked by landonorris, pierregasly, and 801,626 others
user32 the hand drawn hearts is too cute
user33 y/n is the luckiest girl in the world
user34 giggling and kicking my feet over them
pierregasly you guys are crazy
charles_leclerc crazy in loveee 😎😎😎
yourusername posted a story
liked by charles_leclerc, francisca.cgomes, and 974,626 others
user35 the red and orange hearts😭😭😭
user36 them all posting each other celebrating i could die rn
user37 idk who i wanna be more
francisca.cgomes my fav throuple
yourusername how many others do you know
francisca.cgomes not the point!
landonorris
liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc, and 837,907 others
landonorris live inside my mind you can see the shrine got you on my walls ..
tagged: charles_leclerc, yourusername
view all 11,737 comments
user38 omg🥹🥹🥹🥹
user39 omg they are sosososososo cute together i cant cope
user40 oh to be y/n y/l/n
francisca.cgomes a moment for make you mine song of the year 🙏
landonorris pinned 🧷
yourusername iktr 😎
charles_leclerc my honeys 🍯
yourusername hehe
landonorris i love you
charles_leclerc i love you ❤️
yourusername i love u sweeties
user41 the little nicknames🥹🥹🥹
user42 i'd die for them
landonorris same
THE END ❤️🧡
#f1#f1 smau#f1 fanfic#f1 x reader#f1 fic#f1 imagine#smau#lando norris#ln4#charles leclerc#cl16#charlando#charlando fanfic#f1 blurb#charles leclerc fanfic#cl16 one shot#cl16 smau#cl16 x y/n#cl16 fluff#cl16 x you#cl16 x reader#cl16 imagine#cl16 fic#ln4 smau#ln4 angst#ln4 one shot#ln4 x y/n#ln4 fluff#ln4 imagine#ln4 fic
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タコの花嫁。
yandere!azul ashengrotto x (female) reader cw: yandere, nsfw, non-con, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, arranged marriage, oviposition, breeding, royalty au note - in an effort to bring peace to two warring sides, you are engaged to the sea queen’s son.
If anyone is to blame for the abysmal diplomacy between the Land and the Sea, it would be your ancestors. Pompous and foolhardy, they thought they could rule the grand seas stretching out from the harbor, beyond weather-worn docks with their rotted, seaweed-strewn planks and briny fetor. The ocean was vast, unexplored territory—a dangerous, deceptive beauty harboring life far beneath unruly waves.
And your ancestors intended to claim it.
Sailors would recount tales of fishfolk—uncanny creatures who looked more marine than the two-legged mammals of the land. They’d raise mugs, each overflowing with ale, in drunken merriment, terrifying themselves with the mysteries of the deep, dark sea.
“It ought to give ya a proper scare straight to Davy Jones himself!” they’d say, voices lowered conspiratorially. “Soon as yer candle goes out and all ya’ve got’s the moon to guide ya… You’ll hear ’em slip through the water if yer listenin’ well enough.”
“You ever go and spy one up close?”
“I’d sooner see the Devil himself and let him keelhaul me before facin’ those cursed beasts!”
“The cut of their jib ain’t so pretty. Enough to give men like us a fright and we’ve seen all sorts of somethin’.”
“Monsters, I say! Monsters!”
Festivals were held to keep these beasts at bay—to prevent them from gathering the courage to creep up onto the land. Every year, during the summer solstice, pits were hollowed on the shore and bordered with stones. Flames licked towards the sky, red-orange fingers clawing for purchase amidst the stars above. Townsfolk would sing and dance late into the eve, bellowing songs passed through the generations. Children would skip up and down the beach, torches in hand, and cry out an old chant: “Fish for you and me are meant to stay in the sea! Should you see one on land, may the Heavens strike it down with a gentle, loving hand!”
Their excitement did well to ward off the fishfolk. Sometimes the lone child would spot one in the distance, peeking out from between the rocks before diving back under in a splash.
On land, humans were safe. On land, the fishfolk couldn’t catch them.
It was different in the sea.
Ships were destroyed in terrible tempests. The waves tossed them around as if they were nothing. Many sailors would find their demise at the bottom of the ocean, torn to shreds with shattered skeletons. Viscerally brutalized, they died with secrets on their tongues—secrets of the strange fishfolk who’d drag them down, down, down to a watery grave.
On one cold February afternoon, the octopus prince was brought into the world. In shadowed fathoms, a grand celebration was held. After so much time—misfortune after misfortune—one fry survived out of the entire clutch. He was round and soft and small, colored blue from exertion and fighting through the tug of the current to reach home. The Sea Queen met him halfway and embraced him, ecstatic tears in her eyes, for a mother’s love is stronger than any political power.
“My little Azul,” she said, stroking a hand along his cheek, “how precious you are.”
No ships were sunk; no lives were lost. It was a peaceful day for both the Land and the Sea. And it would continue to be so in the future. Every year on that same February, it was made a day of peace to honor the little prince.
A day of life, not death.
It was on that same February eleven years later when you were tossed into the frigid depths like a hatchling cast out of its nest. Similarly, your birth had been a wondrous occasion. Your parents brought five boys into the world, each just as adored as the last, but they had been hoping for a daughter. It was a miracle when their fervent wishes were finally granted. You were spoiled as all daughters often are, pampered and doted on by your family and the palace staff.
Your brothers, though protective and caring, were a troublesome and rowdy bunch. Kyffin was the eldest. Two years younger was Emyr, and another two years behind him was Owin. A year younger than him were twins Morcan and Martyn. They picked on you as all immature boys often do when caught up in sibling rivalries, aiming to be the only one their parents see. To prove themselves as the best, the strongest, the wisest.
So it was with a half-cruel heart that Emyr tossed you into the waves from where he stood in the rowboat.
“Only way to learn is with exposure!” he called down to you, watching as you struggled against the push and pull of the sea.
“C-Can’t!” you shouted back, choking on salt and flailing about. “E-Emyr, I can’t—can’t swim!”
“Don’t be silly,” Owin added with a sweet smile. “It’s how we learned. That old sod threw us right in. You’re lucky it’s us and not him. He was awfully mean with it, wasn’t he?”
“Terribly so.” Emyr watched your struggling a moment longer and clicked his tongue. He held the oar out just before you could slip under, and you clung to it with shaky hands. “Come on—let’s get you up here. You’re not gonna get it today.”
“Fin got it on his first try.”
“Fin gets everything on his first bloody try.”
Relieved, your heart pounding like a drum, you peered up at your brothers. “I’m sorry I couldn’t get it…”
“Nothing to apologize for. You’ll get it one day.”
“We’ll keep trying until then. And once you do, we’ll throw you a big party.”
“Really? Will you really do that?” Your expression brightened, but your brothers’ faces darkened. They saw the shadow before you did. Saw the webbed hands reaching out, the serrated teeth glinting in a sinister smile.
And then—
Owin leaned over, his arm outstretched. So fluid was his motion that it took you by surprise. “(Name), grab on! Hurry! Before—”
The rest of his warning was muffled by the water. You hardly had any time to brace yourself when you were yanked under, your nails raking across the wood of the oar as you went with the force of the pull. Salt stung your eyes when you cracked them open, peering frantically at blurry surroundings. Teal-green specks slid silently through the shadows, mismatched eyes flicking over your form. And then there was a high, raucous sort of chittering. Like a dolphin’s cry, loud and piercing. You squeezed your eyes shut and pressed your palms against your ears.
It only lasted a few mere seconds, but it felt like an eternity trapped in the coils of a creature you couldn’t comprehend. One moment you were holding your breath and the next arms were hooked around your torso, and you were pulled up and into the belly of the rowboat. Your hands flew to your throat, and you coughed up seawater while Owin patted you.
“It’s fine. It’s…okay,” Emyr muttered, his voice shot through with fear. It was the most shaken he’d ever sounded.
Blood fogged in the water, staining the tip of his harpoon. He gazed down at his hand. A deep, jagged gash ran angrily from palm to wrist. He hissed and closed his fingers in a tight fist.
“We gotta get back,” Owin was saying, still rubbing soothing circles into your back. “I’ll row. You rest.”
“Not good,” Emyr said instead, shaking his head in dismay as he watched your attackers retreat.
“We’re still in our waters, right? We didn’t go past the boundary, did we?”
“Let’s hope not.”
“We didn’t, right?”
“Let’s hope—” Emyr paused, collecting his words. “Let’s hope those monsters were in the wrong.”
“Father’s gonna kill us.”
“If not us, the monsters.”
Both brothers looked towards you. Your tunic was torn, stained through with saltwater and blood. You shivered all the way to shore.
Following that mishap, an official meeting was called between the Land and the Sea. The King—your father—met the Sea Queen at the border. He stood proud on his ship, peering down at her with fire in his old eyes.
“Your Majesty.”
The Sea Queen was just as formidable as those who came before her. Her tentacles unfurled as one, and if you looked at them long enough they almost seemed to take on the shape of an obsidian-colored crinoline.
“I believe my mother and your father made the terms quite clear all those years ago,” she said, a wave lifting her to meet the King at the deck of his ship. “So then, with that in mind, there should be no reason for us to meet under these circumstances.”
Emyr and Owin stood just behind their father. You peered through their legs at the Sea Queen, silently amazed. You’d never seen anyone quite like her before. At least, not a real person. You’d seen her in storybooks, depicted as a fearsome beast with devilish features, and though there was something intimidating about her gaze and build she appeared understanding enough. Her grey skin was sleek in the morning sun, her long, silvery strands tied up and pinned with an ornate hair ornament. She looked beautiful in a magical, enigmatic way.
“I couldn’t agree more,” came the clipped response of your father. “Alas, misfortune has brought us here.” He stepped aside to allow her to behold Emyr’s bandaged hand. “Harm has befallen my son and daughter. I suppose you might have an inkling as to why they find themselves in their current state?”
She frowned, but you couldn’t tell if it was out of sympathy or some other emotion. “Perhaps one of them can give reason to the wound now marring one of my subject’s sons.”
Your father glanced overboard at the snake-like merman cradled in the arms of another merman. They looked near-identical, their features unmistakable. He glanced back at Emyr, his gaze hard. “Go on then. Explain yourself.”
Emyr stepped forward. “With wholehearted respect, Your Majesty, it was out of self-defense. Your kind—they attacked us first.”
“You were in our waters!” one of the mers exclaimed, pointing a clawed finger towards Emyr. “It’s all your fault Jade got hurt!”
Owin hurried ahead, his hands gripping the taffrail. “He’s playing it up! It was a graze!”
“He could’ve died! You almost killed him!”
“That is enough,” the Sea Queen said, jutting an arm out to silence both sides. “I understand everyone is hurt here. Our feud lies in misunderstanding.” She gazed at you next. “Little one, we have yet to hear your story. Do share.”
You glanced at the guards, at Owin and Emyr, and then at father. He nodded encouragingly. “U-Um!” Shyly, you approached the Sea Queen. “My brothers were teaching me how to swim. I don’t know anything about whose water is whose. I just wanted to learn how to swim.” You met the fierce scowl of the mer holding his twin brother and quickly looked elsewhere. “He grabbed me before my brothers could pull me up.”
“Because you were trespassing. Anyone who tresspasses ought to—”
“Floyd.”
At the not-so-subtle warning in his father’s voice, he shut his mouth and snarled. His brother—Jade—was handed off to their father, who assessed his state with a frown.
“He will live, but it will take time for him to recover. My son is right. Your son could have killed him.”
“Just as your sons could have killed my sister!” Owin shouted, glaring.
Floyd stuck his tongue out, remorseless.
“It is impossible to know which side is in the wrong,” your father began, turning towards the Sea Queen. “Seeing as both have been injured, I am willing to apologize on behalf of my sons.”
“What?!” Owin’s head turned towards his father. “You’re bloody mad! Have you not seen—”
“Father,” Emyr interjected evenly. “We have nothing to apologize for. We were within our waters. We had no ill will towards the others. It was completely innocent.”
The Sea Queen hummed her contemplation. “The boundary was drawn for a reason, decided upon by those who came before us, and yet it does more harm than good. It is not for safety’s sake. It is to keep us divided—to ensure that neither side will ever know peace.”
“And you’re implying that we get rid of it?”
She nodded, quite serious. Everyone looked on in equal parts shock and disbelief. “Why do we continue to fight? It does nothing but open old wounds, rendering them incurable. Innocent lives are lost in petty squabbling. And for what?”
To that, no one could offer a smart reply.
“Therefore I propose peace. A union to welcome a new era—one in which we embrace one another as allies without animosity.”
“A union?” Your father raised a brow, suspicious but willing to listen. “I suppose it would be beneficial. My people would be free to travel the seas at their leisure.” “And mine would no longer have to live in fear of being thoughtlessly slaughtered and taken as trophies.”
“Unbelievable,” Orwin muttered.
Emyr elbowed him. “Knock it off.”
“We’ll collaborate on a contract. One that dissolves the invisible boundary that has been the cause for so much suffering. In order to attain true peace, I shall offer you my only son.” She glanced at you and then back at your father. “Your daughter shall marry him when they are of age.”
“What?! No way! Ew! Gross!” Your voice came out shrill and you shook your head in protest. “I don’t wanna marry an octopus! No, I won’t do it!”
Your father stood in front of you. “She’s my only daughter. If something were to happen—”
“Which is precisely why I bring up this engagement. Should they be betrothed, we as their parents will promise to uphold peace to give them bright futures and they will act as the first example of a human-mer alliance. Unions between humans and merfolk are unheard of, but is this not the best way to foster harmony between the Land and Sea?”
“I won’t do it! No! Don’t make me marry a gross—” Emyr gathered you in his arms, holding his uninjured hand over your mouth.
“Let the grown-ups talk.”
Owin frowned. “I still don’t agree with this…”
Your father mulled it over, his eyes glazed in thought. “Very well. We will create a contract—an official peace treaty.”
Both leaders shook hands and planned to convene at the end of the week to discuss further.
You watched the mers depart, each one slipping under the sea. Floyd was the last to go, staring at you with a mean sort of vitriol. And then he, too, dove under.
“He didn’t mean it, right?” you whispered to Emyr after your father gave the order to turn the ship around and head for land. “I won’t have to marry an octopus, right?”
Emyr could only offer a commiserate frown.
“She’s a brat,” Floyd spits. “Stupid, evil Two Legs.”
Jade chuckles and runs his fingers over the scar. “I consider it an honor.”
“Yeah, well, I think it’s messed up. She’s the reason you can’t ever swim naturally again. While she’s up there in her pretty, little tower, safe and sound, you’re still hurting.”
“It’s not as much of a hindrance as you may think. I’m not weak, mind you.”
Floyd grumbles. “Still. She’s mean.”
Azul gazes up at the palace, sighing dreamily. “She’ll be my wife someday. That’s what humans call it, yes? Husband and wife… What wonderful words.”
It’s been one year since the peace treaty. Since then, humans and merfolk have made an effort to get along. This is the second time Azul will be meeting with you. He’s nervous. The first time you went out to sea to greet him, and he’d gotten so anxious that he inked right then and there. His mother entertained you from where you sat in the boat with your personal guard. It was a mortifying experience—one that had taken him months to recover from.
Now he’s going to try to meet you in the shallows. Try is the key word here. He’s scared, all three hearts beating as one. Is it too late to reschedule?
“I can’t believe you’re actually okay with this. You that lonely?”
Azul turns to scowl at both twins, but it’s mostly directed at Floyd. “I never asked you to tag along. Leave me alone.”
Jade smiles. “And let the Queen’s little prince swim to his death?”
“I can take care of myself.”
“Sure you can. But what about when Two Legs gets ya? What then?”
“She wouldn’t do that.”
Floyd rolls his eyes. “You saw what her brothers did to Jade.”
“Because you tried to kill her.”
“Because she was in our territory!”
Azul huffs and pushes him away with a tentacle. “Regardless, we’re supposed to be on good terms now. You’ll break the contract if you try anything dangerous.”
“He’s right, Floyd.”
“Ugh. Whatever.” Floyd turns away, stubborn. “This is lame. I’m not stickin’ around.”
Jade lingers long enough to observe the way Azul lights up when he spots you on the stone steps. And then he disappears beneath the water.
Barefoot, holding your dress up and out of the way, you pad across the beach.
“Why are you here? I’m busy. My brothers are taking me into town.”
The smile that had been fighting to break out on his face frosts over. “Oh. I… Um…” Azul fumbles with the conch shell he’d collected on the way here. A gift for you. He made sure to study human speech patterns in the months leading up to this meeting. He’s fully prepared! And yet you look so displeased. “F-For you! I found it…”
You stare at the shell clutched in a dark tentacle. Tentatively, you reach for it. “Why?”
“Ah. W-Well, my mother says gifts are an important part of any bond. In the sea, we give gifts to the ones we care about. To friends and family and o-other halves…”
You turn the shell over in your hands. “We’re not friends.”
“Not yet,” he tries, but you shake your head.
“You ran away from me the last time we met. That’s not very friendly.”
His face flushes blue and he opens his mouth to argue, but nothing comes out. It wasn’t on purpose.
You’re already turning on your heel. “I don’t have time for this.” You toss the shell over your shoulder. Azul watches it land in the sand, just out of his grasp.
“W-Wait! I… I want to talk to you. Please don’t go. You’re going to be my other half one day, so I’d like to—”
But you’re already dashing across the beach to get to the stairs.
Azul deflates against the rock. Tears overflow in floods. Is it because of him? Is he to blame? Why don’t you want to be his friend? Is it because of the peace treaty? Why?
Why? Why? Why?
Azul doesn’t want to think negatively of you. Humans are sensitive creatures. He reads up on them in the palace library, poring over literature and textbooks in an effort to better understand you. But as the months pass and you seem to simply tolerate him for the sake of the alliance, he begins to suspect something.
It’s made apparent the next time he sees you, where you walk right past the beach to catch up with your brothers. He hides behind the rocks, two blue eyes following your figure until you’re out of sight.
Floyd was right. You are a brat.
And yet he can’t hate you.
On the eve of your eighteenth birthday, Azul meets you in the shallows.
Nowadays you send letters, preferring strained long distance over the personal intimacy of face-to-face relations. These exchanges are purely diplomatic. But now that he’s asked to meet with you, a rare occurrence, you’ve deigned to greet him in person. It’s the least you can do after he’s gone through the trouble to travel here. It’s been so long since you’ve seen him that he’s almost unrecognizable. You remember the round, baby-faced octo-mer from your childhood. The one who lounges against the rocks is leaner now—his features defined, jawline as sharp as his eyes. They cut through the gloom to find you.
“You wished to see me?” You’re in your nightwear, a silky gown with an even softer robe. A cool breeze blows across the beach, and you wrap your arms around yourself for extra warmth. “Azul?”
He hesitates, his gaze trailing up your legs. You’ve also changed a lot in the time you’ve been apart. You’ve grown taller, filling out in places he didn’t know humans could fill. What he’d give to hold you… His mother says he needs to be patient. Fickle thing that you are, you’re the reason he’s spent six years trying to appease you through letters—to win you over and be anything more than that “annoying octopus” you’re doomed to marry. Perhaps it would have been easier to act just as you do if it weren’t for the fact that he’d been elated at the premise of having someone to love. When his mother broached the idea in the days following her meeting with the Land King, he’d stared at her with wide, excited eyes.
“There’s a human girl who wants to be my friend?” he asked, to which his mother smiled and nodded.
More than a friend, actually, but then all he was focused on was finally getting to experience the one thing he’d never known or had: friendship.
Sighing, he foregoes formality and holds out a necklace. It dangles from the tip of his tentacle. Strung on a dainty, silver strand, pearls wink back at you under the moonlight. Azul averts his eyes, his cheeks a pleasant periwinkle.
“Happy birthday…”
“Oh.” You move in closer, taking the necklace from him. His tentacle pursues you, twining delicately around your wrist. “Um… What is it? Do you need—whoa!”
Azul tugs you closer. The sea laps at your ankles. Beneath a tapestry of stars, you meet his azure stare. His features are set with a determination you’ve never seen before.
“I want to start over.”
“Start over?”
“I’d like to be on friendly terms with you. We’re so cold. Distant…” Azul frowns, seeming unsure of what to say or do next. The tentacle laced around your wrist like a bracelet tightens its hold. “We’re to be wed one day. I want to make this work.”
You blink at him. He thinks he may have gotten through to you, having finally broken through layers of stone and ice, but then your nose scrunches and odium shimmers in your gaze.
“That’s impossible. I’m a human. How am I supposed to live with an octopus?” You shake him off with a huff. “I’m not sure what our parents think this will accomplish. I don’t want to be a pawn to be moved around for the sake of peace. I’m my own person.”
Azul’s expression sours. His lip curls up into a sneer. “Well, I don’t find it very enjoyable either. You’re not the only victim in this scenario.”
You exhale an exhausted breath. “Azul, I appreciate the gift, but it doesn’t mean anything if you’re only giving it to me to curry favor.”
I wasn’t, he thinks, but he doesn’t say that. Admitting it would be a weakness. Admitting it would mean coming to terms with an unrequited opinion.
“At least one of us is making a conscious effort.”
“At least one of us isn’t trying so hard. It’s pathetic.”
“You’re not obligated to accept my goodwill.” He smiles, smug. “Yet you do every time. I’d wager you enjoy my materialistic affections.”
“As if.” Despite this, you hold the necklace out of his reach when a tentacle flexes towards it. “It’s mine now.”
“So you are fond of my ‘pathetic’ ways!”
“I’m not!”
You jerk away with a vicious scowl, but your foot catches in the sand and you quickly find yourself tipping backwards. If not for the tentacles that coil around your waist to steady you, you would have fallen on your rear. Your chest heaves with adrenaline. Stunned, you stare at Azul.
“You…caught me,” you breathe, lips parted in awe.
“Did you think I’d let you fall?” He cocks his head at you, grinning playfully. “Why, I’d never! Unless it’s me you’re falling for, in which case I gladly welcome the—”
“You’re such a pest.” Untangling yourself from his grasp, which he allows without scrimmage, you step away from the water’s edge. He watches you secure the pearls around your neck, and his hearts stumble in his chest when you point an accusatory finger at him. “Don’t delude yourself with foolish nonsense. I have no interest in you.”
With an indignant harrumph, you start towards the palace.
“May we meet here tomorrow?” Azul calls out after you, testing his luck with what little chance he has.
“Don’t push it.”
“I’ll wait for you.”
“Good. Keep waiting, dummy!” You break into a sprint, hurrying off into the shadows.
Azul smiles at the empty beach. Whether or not you like him, it doesn’t matter. You’re to be his one day. You’ve always been, ever since he was eleven.
He’ll wait, even if you won’t show.
Ostensibly, twenty-one years wise, you’re getting married today.
Your gown is just as exquisite as your hair and makeup. Pearls cling to your throat and arms—classic wedding attire for merfolk. A thin veil shields the scheme in your stare.
This was an inevitability, but you’re determined to fight it until the end. No matter how quickly time seems to pass, you’ll do everything you can to stall and slow it.
Gripping a sharpened dagger in a resolute fist, you drag it through the long, sprawling train of your gown.
“As if I’d marry an octopus,” you grumble, cutting fine fabric until you’re permitted smoother movement. Gazing at yourself in the mirror, you scowl. “I’m no one’s bride.”
By the time the maids arrive to check on you, you’ve already stolen out the window.
The rowboat sways on choppy water. You’ve watched your brothers do this enough times to have the technique engraved in your memory. Your arms strain with the oars, every muscle screaming in protest, but you fight through the pain. The palace looks smaller and smaller with every passing minute. Eventually, you’re so far out that the land is but a mere speck.
It’s going well. You’re escaping towards a better future—a future without the octopus prince.
You glance towards the horizon. Your boat undulates with the waves.
You’ll miss your brothers, your maids, your personal guard…
Water slops over the edge. You yelp, startled. Have the seas always been so rough?
Despite everything, you’ll miss your father.
Just as you think this, your boat rocks to the side. You grab onto the edge to steady yourself, but it’s already too late. It tips over and you go with it, careening into the sea with a noisy splash. Twin shadows cut seamlessly through the murky water. You catch sight of a yellow eye before you propel yourself towards the sky, coughing and heaving once you break the surface. You grab onto the overturned rowboat, your dagger clutched in one hand.
You search the surface for them, eyes flicking to and fro in a frantic panic.
Somewhere… Anywhere… Where are you?
And then you find them, peering at you from the other side of the boat.
“Go on then,” you spit, glaring. “Kill me.”
Floyd bares his teeth at you. “This time I ain’t gonna leave a scar.”
“You know we mustn’t. That’s not why we’re here.” Jade smiles at you, but there’s something in his eyes that unnerves you. “Your Highness, you should know it’s poor manners to leave the groom on his special day.”
Floyd circles you restlessly. “S’not fair we gotta be nice when you’re so mean.”
“I’m not going to marry him.”
“I’m afraid you don’t have a choice in that matter.”
“What’d Azul ever do to you?”
You attempt to answer that before realizing the truth. Nothing. He’s done absolutely nothing but be kind and understanding and patient. And I took that, chewed it up, and spat in his face.
“If you used that brain of yours, you wouldn’t have thrown yourself to the sharks. We can’t get to you on land.” “But it’s fair game in the sea,” Floyd finishes, every syllable dripping with pride. “Stupid Two Legs.”
“I’m inclined to agree. You’re not the brightest human. A pity.”
“My brother should’ve gutted you when he had the chance. Maybe then—”
You see the whites of Floyd’s eyes when he strikes, launching himself at you with a clawed hand, sharp, pointed teeth aiming for your jugular.
This is it. You’re dead.
…or not.
The searing pain never comes, nor does the impending laceration. You cling to the boat and watch dark tentacles rise from the depths to close around Floyd, ensnaring him in a firm hold. He thrashes, snapping his jaws like a deranged beast.
“Let go of me, Azul! Lemme at her! She’s a bitch! I’ll kill her!”
“There will be none of that.” Azul tuts. “I don’t intend to marry a corpse.”
Jade swims over to you. “My feelings aren’t hurt in the slightest, Your Highness. If it weren’t for your status and connection to Azul, I’d have disemboweled you ages ago. Quite a relief for you, yes?”
You swallow your horror, allowing him to detach you from the boat so that Azul can turn it over. A tentacle curls around your waist, lifts you from the water, and places you back in the boat. You stare at your hands. They’re trembling. You can hardly hold the dagger properly.
It takes some convincing and a lukewarm apology from you, but Floyd promises to be good. He doesn’t do anything as you’re pulled back to shore, but he does stare at you for the duration of the trip, his eyes tracking your every movement. You press yourself into the belly of the boat, defeated and riddled with anxiety.
Your father isn’t pleased. When you see his enraged expression, the debate dies on your tongue. “You are to marry the prince,” he seethes, pulling you aside, “or else you jeopardize the peace of our kingdom.”
You’re washed and fitted in a new dress. Guards are stationed at all possible routes to prevent another escape.
When you walk down the beach to meet Azul in the shallows, your veil shields the sadness in your stare.
The ceremony carries on without incident. Floyd watches from the water, lurking like Death. You speak rehearsed vows in robotic monotone, mindlessly floating through the rigmarole like it’s second nature. Azul smiles at you through it all, sweetly smitten.
It’s a nightmare lived in real time.
Humans and mers alike congratulate you, cheering for this momentous occasion. Your tongue is numb by the end of it all. You’ve expressed faux gratitude so many times that it hurts to even force the words. And now, as night descends and the party kicks into full swing, you’re left reflecting on the day.
Freedom feels so far away. You’ll never know it again, will you?
Azul guides you away from the crowd. Firelight grows dim with the distance. Eventually, you find yourself taking refuge in a tiny inlet cut into the beach. A rocky outcrop hides you from the moon’s spotlight.
“I’m not upset,” Azul murmurs, curling a tentacle up your leg. “But Floyd is.”
“His brother’s the one who hurt me all those years ago.”
“That was before the union.”
“I’m not letting it go.”
“Perhaps not now, but you will. One day.”
You don’t believe him.
“Our people are at peace. Aren’t you pleased, my love?”
You shove him away, gathering heaps of your dress to walk in calf-deep water. “I’m not your love.”
“Legally, you are.”
“That means nothing to me. Absolutely nothing.”
Azul sighs. “Even now, after everything, you’re still trying to flee.”
“For good reason. I don’t want to be tied down.”
Azul inches closer. Another tentacle wraps slyly around your ankle.
“You’re so beautiful. I feel like the luckiest mer in the sea. To be able to call you my own… My beautiful bride.” He pulls you closer. You resist weakly. “Now that we’re alone I can finally tell you the very thing I’ve thought of ceaselessly for years.”
A tentacle slides up your leg, straying closer to your inner thigh. You flinch away.
“Azul, wait. I don’t want—”
“I love you.”
You squirm in his hold, attempting to thwart the tentacles that grab at your every limb. You trip over yourself in the process. This time Azul doesn’t catch you. Water laps at your dress, soaking through at once. He’s radiant beneath the moon. Dreading his touch, you scoot as far from him as you can get in the water, hoping to reach land. Azul seizes your wrist and pulls you into his arms. You fight him with more force.
“No… No, let go of me! Release me!”
“Why should I? You’re mine now. Is it not customary for a married couple to consummate their new bond? We do something similar in the sea.” A tentacle brushes your veil back so that he can look upon your pretty face. “I’d take you to a quiet space in the seagrass, lay you down in the sand, and then—”
“I don’t want that! No!” You lash out, swinging blindly. A tentacle shoots out to stop your arm before it can smack him. “Azul, please—”
“I was patient. I waited and waited in hopes that you might warm up to me. I cherished you in silence. I learned your language. Your customs. Your habits. I wrote to you. Traveled to meet you. And yet you look at me as if I’m a monster…”
It’s not the devastated look in his eyes or the edge in his voice that scares you. It’s the startling gentleness with which he handles you. Tentacles loop around your body, exploring beneath your gown. You wriggle in discomfort, yelping when suckers brush against the frilly garter secured around your thigh. Azul hums and holds you up in his tentacles, using two to spread your legs so that he may slide it from your leg.
“I wasn’t forceful. I courted you kindly. You accepted all of my gifts. You wore them proudly and I thought—I knew you would love me, too. You were mine from the moment our parents signed that agreement. And if you leave me, you’ll break a political promise and then our kingdoms will go to war and I’ll be sure to collect the heads of your family first. Each one of them, and you will watch as I bring ruin to the kingdom you love so fondly.”
“N-No… Please stop. Please.”
“I’ve waited ten years for you.” A tentacle hooks around your panties. You thrash again, shaking your head at him. He remains unconvinced, watching with gleeful eyes as your nudity is revealed to him. “And aren’t you an angel? Oh, you’re so pretty…”
Like your hopes, your panties are cast aside.
The tip of a tentacle prods curiously at your pussy. Your breath hitches.
“W-Wait! You… You can’t.” His eyes find yours, and you swallow the rising sob. “T-That can’t go inside… It won’t fit. It won’t—”
Azul smiles. “Of course it will. The human body is capable of marvelous feats.”
Even though it’s pointless, you struggle. “I can’t! Please… Azul, I’m scared. Please don’t do this…”
A lone tentacle slides into your hand. Thoughtless, you hold tight.
“My love, there’s no need to cry. I’m not going to hurt you.” He brings you closer, kissing your tears away. “I’m here for you. I’ve always been here, even when you didn’t seem to need me.”
You hiccup, your chest heaving. It’s not lonely for long, for he pulls your dress down your shoulders. Your breasts spill free and are quickly cradled in cold hands. Azul watches your expression with an intense focus while he rolls your nipples between his fingers. You grit your teeth, refusing to respond. But then the tentacle between your legs finds your clit and a sucker affixes to it, suctioning slowly. You gasp and throw your head back, bolts of pleasure racing up your spine. It happens in a white-hot flash. You slacken in his grasp.
Azul laughs, astonished. “Did you cum? Already?”
“Nooo,” you whine, closing your hand around the tentacle once more. Another one strokes your cheek. “You’ve had your fun. Now let go of me…”
“What a silly demand.”
He tugs on your nipples. You groan, lashes fluttering. “Ooh… Stop. No, stop it… Don’t touch there. Not—haa… Not there!”
“You’re so sensitive.” He drags the underside of a tentacle along your cunt and shivers. “And so wet… Is this your season? Do humans experience such a thing?”
You’ve no idea what he’s referring to, but before you can dwell on it he leans down to take your perky bud in his mouth. Your free hand grabs at his hair, pinning him to your chest. His tongue laves across it, warm and wet. You shouldn’t enjoy it so much, and yet you can’t stop yourself from crying out.
He hums against your skin, beaming like a devil. You can’t hate him. He’s your husband. He’s yours. You shouldn’t hate him.
You’re falling apart in his tentacles, grinding down to chase the bliss provided by the underside of the appendage clinging to your pussy. The sinful squelch of skin on skin fills the quiet inlet. The scent of sex and salt intermingles. It’s wrong and it’s right. It’s instinct, carnal and corrupt. Azul groans against your breast, your teat between his teeth.
“Az—ooh!” You tug on his hair, insatiable. Your brain is fogging over with lust. You don’t want to lose yourself in this madness. You can’t. “N-No more… No more.”
But he’s not listening. He pinches your other nipple between his fingers, and that’s all it takes for you to unravel.
In the aftermath, the tapered tip of a thicker tentacle squirms between your thighs. Mindlessly, you spread your legs and lift your hips for him. It presses in shallowly, a jarring experience.
“Not inside—don’t! You can’t!”
Azul pulls away from you, his expression scrunched in woozy ecstasy. “Why not?” he mumbles, smiling stupidly. “You’re my bride. It’s only fair…”
Before you can bicker, he kisses you. His tongue pursues yours in a sloppy tango. You lick into his mouth, desperate and dazed. Lost in a sea of salacity, shipwrecked on an island of forgotten inhibitions.
The tentacle pushes through rings of tight, slick muscle. Tears spring to your eyes. It feels weird and foreign, so unlike your fingers. He holds you close, minding his strength and pace. It fills you slowly, reaching places you’ve never been able to feel. The lust numbs your senses and gives way to something animalistic—a base desire you’ve suppressed. Azul rocks the appendage deeper until it’s pushed up against the entrance to your womb, squeezed snugly in your warm walls.
“I-It’s in…” you mumble once he’s broken the kiss, a strand of saliva connecting your mouths. “It’s really…inside me…”
Azul kisses your cheek and pets you with a tentacle. “We were made for each other.”
Surely not, you think, but it feels so when he draws back and thrusts in. Maybe he’s right.
He fucks you gently, savoring every single sound you make. He tells you he loves you, whispers it over and over like it’s prayer. You nod dumbly, grabbing at his hand to hold it. The both of you are gasping in unison, chasing cloud nine. In just a few more deep strokes, his tip bullying its way to your womb, he finally finds his end. A thin substance fills you up in plentiful amounts. Distantly, you think it’s water until he drags your hips further down. Your mouth drops open in a strangled scream as something round and gelatinous passes through. It settles in your womb, and you know right away that it shouldn’t be there.
You panic. “W-Wait… Wha—Zul… Stop… No, I don’t want—”
“It’s all right,” he breathes, his mouth on your shoulder. He soothes you with soft shushes and even softer kisses. “You’re okay. I’m here.”
You dig your nails into the tentacle curled in your palm just as a second orb squeezes through. He groans, his eyes squeezed shut.
“Finally…” He pants, a wobbly smile stretching on his delirious countenance. “Finally, my love, my dear—oh, my beloved bride!”
He cradles you like a mother would a newborn. You lie there as he fills you, your voice hoarse from babbling and bewailing. These things—little orbs of jelly—are stuffed into your womb, and by the time you surpass twenty you lose count and blank out, trembling through yet another orgasm. You’re not sure how many more he has left or how many more you can possibly fit. It feels too good to think about that.
“Bigger. They’ll get bigger. You’ll look so pretty—round and full and soft.”
Dizzy, you glance at the bloated dome that is your belly. Your gown strains over it, an impressively deceptive size that you almost mistake for pregnancy. That’s when it clicks. Eggs. These are eggs.
“I’ll make sure they survive. All of them—as many as I possibly can. I’ll stay by your side. I’ll keep you content. I’ll fill you with love—so much love—an abundance of it, and you’ll never know emptiness again,” he rambles, resting a tentacle over your distended middle.
It’s not just a senseless sweet nothing. It’s a promise.
#yandere twst#yandere twst x reader#yandere twisted wonderland#yandere twisted wonderland x reader#yandere azul ashengrotto#yandere azul x reader#yandere azul ashengrotto x reader#yandere azul#n/sfw#tw: noncon#tw: breeding#tw: oviposition
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cottage boy!eren chops the wood and lights the fire for you and he to keep warm at night. he huddles you close to him while you sleep. the first time he wraps his arm around your waist and gently flushes against you, your face burns the entire night.
cottage boy!eren is so strong. he doesn’t just chop the wood; he lifts the tree roots to bring ‘em closer. he lifts you at the waist, unprompted, and laughs when your fingers nearly tear into his cotton shirt to keep a hood of him.
cottage boy!eren plays chase with you in the woods. you love the rush of wind in your hair, through your clothes—and eren loves being it.
cottage boy!eren is such an affectionate drunk. he splits a bottle with you and his reservations dwindle to near nothing. his hands caress your ankles, as they rest over his lap. his cheeks tint real rosy, a man-eating grin slapped over his face. he thumbs at your arms, your shoulders—sweetly strumming your body, and barely even aware of it.
cottage boy!eren is such a handyman. fixes pipes, cleans with you, cooks with you. builds your kitchen from scratch and paints it all in your favorite colors.
cottage boy!eren is a bleeding heart. openly stares (gawks) at you, kisses your fingers, your wrists, your palms. he finds his hands are almost as expressive as his mouth is. but boy, the way he speaks—soft and low, it swirls in your tummy.
cottageboy!eren with hearts swirling in his eyes, follows your swift little steps around the room as you look for the book you’d been reading. you’d sat it next to him just a second ago. he promises to hand it back if you tell him what it’s about.
cottage boy!eren doesn’t even realize how alone the two of you really are until you mention it for the third time, on your third day away. and then he becomes insufferable, a menace unto himself and you. he enjoys basking in the sunlight of your attention, is warm with your laugh spreading across his ears.
cottageboy!eren picking flowers for you, brings em home to set the table with for dinner. you help him plant some lemon and lime trees, help him plant tomatoes and keep it all watered.
cottage boy ‘ren loves the fields, the animals. you cross a few deer every now and then. the look on your face each time makes his heart stutter.
sharing a bath with your cottage boy, his big body pressed tight between your hips. <3
#i’ll be back later w more thoughts#cottage boy!eren#eren <3#eren x reader#eren jeager x reader#eren yaeger x reader#aot x reader#attack on titan x reader
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Nightmares
Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x wife!reader
Word count: 831
Warnings: Dad!Simon, Mom!reader, simon being a good daddy, simon talking like the british bitch he is, and ur son being named tommy after simon's brother
Summary: When Simon gets home late from a mission, everything in your house is supposed to be silent. Except your son.
Simon steps into the quiet home, sighing as he leaves Ghost at the door. Everything came tumbling off his shoulders as he takes in the smell of baked cookies, assuming you had baked for your little boy, Tommy.
He checks the fridge, and yup, cookies. Chocolate chip, sitting on a plate. Soft, the only way 7-month old Tommy could eat them.
He hesitates but shuts the fridge again, deciding against eating sugar for dinner. Especially not something you made for the sweet little boy you were raising.
He sighs. It’s late at night, no one’s awake. He’s going to bet you’re curled up in your duvet, Tommy curled up in his own nursery, in his crib. The crib Simon built.
He’s halfway through a glass of water when he hears a whine from upstairs. A soft whine, but still reaches his super soldier ears. Coming from the cracked open door of his sons bedroom. He walks upstairs slowly, as Tommy’s whines get louder. Until they reach a cry.
He assumes you haven’t waken up yet, with all intentions of calming Tommy down before you do wake up.
He pushes the cracked door open until he sees his baby boy crying against the bar of his crib. Simon smiles, walking over and reaching out to pick up Tommy.
Tommy’s eyes lock on Simon’s. For a second, he’s quiet. And Simon thinks he’s alright.
But then Tommy wails louder than ever before.
More than enough to wake you up in the next room.
He keeps wailing even when Simon puts a hand on him and when Simon picks him up, he thrashes around and almost kicks Simon.
And that’s when Simon realizes he never took off his gear.
Or his mask.
He practically rips it off his head, throwing it somewhere across the nursery. He strips off all his clothing until he’s left in just a tight shirt and his tactical pants. “‘S me! ’S daddy. ‘S jus’ daddy!”
Tommy’s wails calm down as he sees his fathers face and he finally reaches for him. Tiny hands grabbing at his father.
Simon picks him up, holding him against his chest, cooing at him. “Nightmare?”
He assumes Tommy’s sniffles means a yes.
“I have ‘em too, bud. Don’ worry, yer mama will take good care of ya. She always takes good care of me,” Simon smiles at the little boy. “Trus’ her.”
Little to Simon’s knowledge, hearing your son’s cries, you had woken up, yawning as you walked to his room, wondering what on earth could possibly have bothered him now.
He was changed, fed, tired…what could he possibly need?
Oh. Daddy’s comfort. Forgot that.
You stand outside the room, watching Simon as he rocks the baby back to sleep, cooing soft nothings to him. You smile, leaning against the doorframe as your actions finally take Simon out of his stare into his son’s eyes.
He turns, looking at you standing at the door. “Lovie.”
You bite back a happy squeal as you walk over to him, ducking into the arm that wasn’t holding Tommy. Resting a hand on Simon’s back, you bring your free hand up to rest on Tommy’s little belly, tickling him softly. “He would not go to sleep today, don’t know what his problem was. He kept wanting to be fed and then he cried over and over for toys and tummy time and god, he’s insane. He started sitting the other day and now, he won’t stop sitting in his crib and whining! Can you believe his attitude?”
“Well, he is yer son,” Simon chuckles softly.
You roll your eyes, “He’s just as petty as his daddy. Isn’t that right, bubby?”
The little boy giggles as you tickle him again. You look back up at Simon. He gives you a soft smile. “He go’ scared of my mas’. Ya thin’ he can’ recognize me?”
“No, he’s just been cranky. He’s seen you in your mask before, it’s not abnormal. He’s just a weird little boy,” you shrug. “Probably just got scared ‘cause the lights were off.”
“Thin’ he’s ready to go down again?” he asks, motioning to the crib. You nod and Simon sets him down, patting him on his chest. The boy lets out a loud gurgle, flashes of white between his pink lips from teething.
You and Simon walk back to your shared bedroom, sighing as you lie down, Simon heading to shower.
When he gets out, he slips on a pair of sweatpants and climbs into bed, curling into you. “Missed ya.”
“Ditto,” you smile, running a hand through his hair. “Did you eat?”
“Nah. Saw yer cookies though. Coulda’ ate ‘em, but figured they were Tom’s,” he cups your cheek, pulling your lips to his. “Ya two had fun while I was gone?”
“Mhm, watched sooo many episodes of Ms. Rachel, skipped over all the daddy parts,” you tease. “He’ll be saying mama in a month.”
“No’ if I go’ anythin’ to do with it.”
#simon riley fluff#simon riley#simon riley imagine#simon riley smut#simon ghost riley#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley cod#ghost call of duty#ghost simon riley#ghost imagine#ghost cod#ghost x reader#ghost x you#ghost
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colorkiller,,,,, again
i tried real hard to write their dialogue in the proper arabic (standard arabic for killer, egyptian arabic for color) and i hope to god they say what i want them to say, i was clinging to translators like my life depended on it
context for this is like. killer comes home during stage 1 and assumes based off the DT on his face and how tired and shaky he is, he must be having a rough day. fragile killer being held by color
aside from that, my own headcanon AU territory!!! killer with Night Terror :D
"HOLD STILL."
i plan to make another proper post about NT, covering his powers and design and stuff like that. for now a brief explanation
NT got gross hands that bring the worst out of people. its like acid to everything and not just dream. amplifies the negativity of anyone who touches it like tenfold
utilizes that to apprehend killer and inflict the NastyTM upon him, which sends him frighteningly quickly from stage 1 to stage 3, and sets him loose upon anyone fighting NT
aka "sic em boy"
#undertale au#utmv#killer!sans#killer sans#something new#something new killer#othertale#othertale sans#color!sans#color sans#dreamtale au#dreamtale au night terror#dreamtale night terror#night terror#color x killer#colorkiller#kolor#please please PLEASE#tell me if i have the arabic right#i tried very hard to make sure the lettering was correct#i love challenging myself and writing non-romanized words and sentences#but i get SO worried i do it wrong#or tell me if i need to tweak how its written#JUST#HELP ME OUT#ANYBODY ARABIC OR WHO UNDERSTANDS ARABIC#IF I HAVE IT WRONG ILL DIE#REAL!!!!!!!!!
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quiet!choso
quiet!choso who has no problem being out by himself, but refuses to talk in any other way than a hushed tone in public. only using his regular voice at home or with family, but he still barely spoke in full sentences.
quiet!choso always looks to you to order for him. voice too deep and quiet for waiters and drive threw workers to hear him so he always just lets you do it.
“i’ll take the number five with fruit punch as the drink pleaseee.” you chirped into the receiver. pretty skirt riding up your thighs as you leaned halfway over the center console to order your food.
“okay! anything else?” the employee asked. you looked at choso, who stared deep in thought at the menu before moving his lips towards your ear. “same thing…please” you smiled at how soft spoken he was, giving him a quick peck on the cheek for his cuteness before giving the woman his order.
quiet!choso who not only speaks quietly, but moves in silence as well. there has been too many times where your soul has left your body because this man has come home from work without making a sound. just quietly changing his clothes before sitting on the couch to watch his shows.
you were in the main bathroom, just getting done with some cleaning. your earphones were playing sza softly in your ears as you hummed along to her voice. as you walked from the toilet to the shower, you glanced out the door and your heart dropped to your ass. there was a man on your couch, hood on his head as he sat comfortably watching tv. you covered your mouth from the scream that you wanted to release before quietly reaching for your phone to call your boyfriend.
since you hid in the tub, you missed the part where choso pulled his phone from his pocket, giving it a confused look before answering it. ‘why is she calling me if i’m home?’ he thought as he quietly spoke to you through the receiver. “hello?” he instantly grew worried at your shaky breaths, quietly getting up from the couch before slowly walking to where he saw you cleaning. “t-there’s a man in the house”
choso stopped in his tracks, turning around before looked around the empty living room and kitchen. “where?” he said softly walking towards the small black pistol he kept deep in the cushion of his recliner. he slowly pulled the weapon out, being as quiet as possible before walking towards your bedroom to further his inspection. “h-he in the living room. got a black hoodie on with his hood up. looks pretty big too.” choso took a deep breath, rolling his eyes as he realized his mistake. you always told him to let you know when he’s home if he doesn’t see you when he walks in the door, but of course he forgot. “mama that’s me. i’m home from work” before he could say anything else you hung up, standing up from the tub before walking out into the living room with your arms crossed.
“choso bring your ass over here right now boy!”
quiet!choso who even though is seen as an antisocial guy, goes out with you to parties and get togethers. always giving you the same quiet speech about how “a man doesn’t need a voice to keep his woman safe”.
quiet!choso who doesn’t really care what people think of him, letting his brothers and friends call him all types of names without getting irritated in the slightest.
“she already do the talking so i’m guessing she be doing to fucking too” his middle brother sukuna said with a chuckle. choso, yuji, and sukuna agreed to have “bro bonding” (clearly yuji made the name) every other weekend to “keep their relationship strong”. this time it was being held at sukuna’s cave house where the three of them ate takeout and played on the game. “kuna leave em aloneee. there’s nothing wrong with letting your woman have control” his youngest brother said, large hand outstretched on choso’s back as he gave it a small rub.
“man cut the bullshit. even yuji don’t let bitches do that shit. you should hear the sounds that be comin outta my guest room when he crashes here wit a some random broad from a party.” yuji covered his face in embarrassment, making his older brothers chuckle. choso felt if he were to tell anyone how life was at home, it would be the two knuckleheads he was raised with. a small smirk planted on his face, tattooed hands gripping his controller a little tighter as he spoke.
“if my girl ‘ran’ me, don’t you think she’d be doing whatever she wanted? when we go out, why do you think she rather sit by me than go shake her ass with her friends like she usually used t’do?” sukuna and yuji’s eyes widened, giving choso a shocked look before the two of them looked at each other.
quiet!choso who doesn’t need to talk for you to know what he’s trying to say. settling for stern looks and a tap on your thigh, ass if nobody’s looking, as a warning to get you to act right.
quiet!choso who sometimes had to use rougher tactics to correct you when you’re out of line.
“say it again” choso groaned, long girthy dick rearranging your guts as he held you up by your hair. “i w–won’t cuss at daddy” you moaned, back grazing his broad tattooed chest. wrists bound together by fuzzy grey cuffs as you dug your nails into your palms. you were so frustrated earlier that you may have let a couple curse words slip into your vocabulary while texting choso, but regardless of your instant apology, he told you to be stripped and ready for him in the bed by the time he got home from work. now you were paying for your disrespect through taking all 8.5 inches of him without complaint.
“say it louder mama. daddy can’t hear you clearly through all that moaning” choso chuckled as he listened to you whine, pretty breasts bouncing with every thrust as you tried to speak clearly for the fifth time tonight. “i won’t c-cuss at daddy ever again! fuck m’gonna cummm” he rolled his eyes, pace never faltering as he fucked you through your third orgasm of the night. choso’s inked hand abruptly let go of your hair, making a chuckle slip as he watched you fall to the bed with a huff, hands not able to stop you.
“now you cursing right at me. gon be here all night if you don’t clean it up princess”
#choso x black!reader#choso x black reader#jjk choso x black!reader#jjk choso x black reader#choso x black y/n#choso smut#jjk choso smut#jjk x black reader#jjk x black!reader#jjk choso#jjk smut
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Rooftop Conversations (Benny Cross x Shy!Reader Pt 4)
On my drive home yesterday, I heard Zach Bryan's Oklahoma Smokeshow for the first time and I realized it's so Benny x Bunny coded :) I'm curious to know what song reminds you of Benny x Bunny! As always, I so so so appreciate all your comments!
Benny x Bunny Masterlist here!
Word Count- 3.1k+ (longest one yet!)
Summary- Another night spent with Benny was sure to be an adventure filled with firsts for both of you.
******
Benny told you he knew a place to eat that had real food. You were about to tell him that Ricardo’s did have good food, but he all but pulled you into the back of his bike in an effortless move that silenced your voice with a soft gasp. The adrenaline surged through you as fresh as the first time he had given you a ride and you wondered if you would always feel this feeling riding on the back of his bike.
He drove you to the other end of town again and you couldn’t hide the surprise on your face as he pulled up to a bar, parking next to a lineup of other motorcycles.
“A bar?” You asked as he helped you off the bike.
“Not exactly what Pete would have picked,” Benny replied coolly as he dismounted. “But the best food ‘round.”
“Well, I’m mad at him so who cares what he’d pick.” You grinned as you followed him to the door.
Inside, the bar was alive with music, voices and bustling bodies. Benny’s hand found the small of your back and gently guided you toward the far tables. Ignoring the rush of butterflies at the contact, you tried to focus on the familiar faces from the picnic who cheered when you entered with Benny but you blushed, looking down at your feet. A couple people clapped Benny on the back as he passed and you felt sort of like a prize and he was the winner. He found an empty table at the back, and you took a seat, facing the room.
“I’ll get you a drink,” he announced before he disappeared into the crowd, moving towards the bar. You glanced about the bar, taking in the rustic setting and colorful characters. Then suddenly, the leader of the Vandals himself was in front of you, sliding into the unoccupied chair.
“You’re Benny’s girl, right?” Johnny asked and before you could correct him – or rather ask exactly what he meant by that – he continued, “It’s nice to see you here again. The boys all really liked your cookies. Sure was sweet of you to bring that.”
You nodded, muttering a soft thanks.
“My wife was wonderin’ if you could give her your recipe – for the cookies, I mean. Maybe you could tell her at another meeting,” he said, tapping his fingers over the tabletop. He’s trying to be friendly, you realized. Trying to include you in the club somehow. Warmth filled your chest at the idea of a club filled with bikers could possibly like you enough to want you around. You wondered if they just aimed to make you the center of every inappropriate joke that would inevitably be thrown out. Regardless, you still felt flattered at the notion.
Charmed, you replied, “I–It's nothing too difficult. I’m sure she could recreate it.”
He hummed. “Well, maybe some of the guys would like to see you ‘round, too. It’s good for ‘em to be ‘round such a civilized lady as yourself. Might even be able to whip ‘em into shape.”
“I don’t know about that,” you grinned sheepishly, rubbing your shoulder. For being the leader of a motorcycle club, he wasn’t as scary as you originally thought. Intimidating, definitely, but not terrifying.
“You whipped our boy Benny into shape! And hell, if you can do that in just the few hours you spent with him, think of all the good you could do for the Vandals. You’d be like a god amongst men here.” The lines around his eyes creased as he bantered.
Heat climbed up your neck at the implication and you broke his eye contact. “I’m sure Benny acts like that with every girl he’s trying to sleep with.”
“I’ve never seen him act the way he does when you’re around. It’s like you’ve hypnotized him.” A mirthful grin overtook his ruggedly handsome face. “You’re not a siren, are ya? Leading him off to his watery demise?”
You giggled, shaking your head.
“Good, can’t have that – it’s bad for business.” He stood, using his foot to slide the chair back in. “Plus, ya know, I kind of like that kid. He’s rough around the edges and damn near feral at times, but he’s a good kid. Has a good heart. I think he’d take care of ya. That’s all he wants, I think. Someone to love ‘em and someone he can show he’s capable of lovin’ too. ”
Bemused, you fell quiet and before you could reply, Benny reappeared, two bottles in hand and he nodded at his friend, “Johnny.”
You glanced between the two as you felt the gravity of their friendship sparking. It was clear that Benny had not heard Johnny’s previous words because if he had, you were sure he wouldn’t appreciate the wingman stunt. And though you didn’t know Benny hardly at all, it was clear in the way he nodded at Johnny that this was an important relationship in his life, possibly one of the only friendships he had. Something heartening stirred in you as you pictured Benny going to him for advice, for brotherly connection.
“Benny,” Johnny returned innocuously and he shot you a secretive smile before disappearing into the crowd again.
“He wasn’t teasin’ you, was he?” Benny asked lightheartedly as his gaze found you again.
“No,” you replied with a small smile, mind still sifting through the information Johnny had left you.
“Good, I’m the only one that can do that,” he stated and your eyes widened slightly at his confidence. “I didn’t figure you were the type to order a beer,” he explained as he slid the coke bottle in your direction. You wrapped your fingers around the cold glass, internally beaming at the thought of him second-guessing himself when it came to ordering you a drink.
“Not usually,” you answered as he sat down in the seat next to you, a fresh beer bottle in his hands. “You must think I’m pretty boring.”
“I think you’re anything but.” He smiled, his eyes seeming to be alight with a playful seductiveness. A dare, you realized. That’s what his mischievous look was; a dare, to be bold, to be adventurous. It stirred something in your gut chest that you didn’t know was dormant until now.
“Well, in that case . . .” You quirked your brow as you slid your coke bottle across the table stopping in front of him and grabbed his beer bottle which he had already opened and took a swig from. You brought it up to your lips, the smell making your stomach flip before you sipped a generous serving. The alcohol burned as it went down and you winced, nearly coughing.
Benny laughed. You were certainly something to keep him on his toes. He opened your soda bottle and moved it forward to cheers with you. The bottles clinked together and you smiled, making his heart flutter. Without breaking eye-contact, he lifted your coke bottle to his mouth and drank from it and nearly lost it when you mirrored him with the beer bottle. You sip was considerably shorter than his and you screwed up your face at the taste afterwards but he was still impressed by your sudden intrepidity. Just as he thought he was starting to figure you out, you’d surprise him with a new and exciting action. And Benny lived for the thrill of it. It was his turn to surprise you.
“What do you want out of life?” he asked abruptly as he set the bottle down.
Your brows rose at the severity of his question. “That’s . . . a deep question.”
“You don’t have an answer?”
“I have an answer, it’s just . . . that’s not something I expect on the first date. First date questions are more like ‘What’s your favorite color? What kind of music do you like? If you could travel anywhere in the world right now, where would you go?’ Stuff like that.” You explained, voice lowering as you played with the wrapping on the beer bottle. A nervous distraction, he realized as he watched your delicate fingers.
“This is our first date?” he quipped, living for the way your eyes shot back up to his, a blush coating your nose and cheeks. “I thought it was when I gave you a ride home last night.”
“No, that was just a ride home.” You stood your ground, but gaze still fluttering back to the bottle.
“Oh,” he pretended to look down as if he were in deep thought. “Then what’s your favorite color?”
He watched as you tilted your head and fought to hold back a smile. “Yellow, like the sunrise in the early mornings. What’s yours?”
He made a mental note of that. “Red, like that red lipstick you're wearing right now.”
At that, your smile grew and he felt a swell of confidence so he continued, “What kind of music do you like?”
You giggled at the realization that he was playing into your game. “I listen to a lot of The Ronettes . . . and Elvis. Let me guess, you like The Rolling Stones?”
“Are you judgin' me by my cover, Bunny?” He grinned. “I also like Johnny Cash.”
“That makes sense. You seem like a character Johnny Cash would sing about," You said flippantly and brought the beer bottle back up to your lips for another sip and Benny was so enamored by the way your head tipped back, delicate neck exposed that he didn’t even realize you had teased him.
“If you could travel anywhere in the world right now, where would you go?” he continued after a moment to compose himself as he drank from the coke bottle, wishing it was something stronger.
You seemed to ponder that for a second. “I’m not sure. I’ve always wanted to go to California.”
“Why is that?”
“I’ve never been to the beach and when I was a little girl, my mom had this magazine that dedicated an entire issue to the beaches of California. It looked so fun,” you described, your eyes lighting up.
Benny imagined the sight of you in a swimsuit – one of those new bikinis he’d seen Aubrey Hepburn wear on tv – and he nearly groaned.
“What about you?” you asked innocently, drawing him back to reality.
“The beach in California,” he replied instantly.
“Why?”
“Because you’d be there.”
You blushed, a smile encompassing your beautiful face and you looked down at the glass bottle again.
Benny leaned forward, his elbows resting on the table. “What other first date questions do you have for me, Bunny?”
******
The night was spent with smiles, stories and plenty of teasing (the latter of which was mostly Benny’s doing) and you hadn’t realized how late it was getting, too absorbed in the attention of the ocean blue eyes of the man sitting next to you. You both ate dinner (Benny insisting on the best meal was their burgers and you had to agree) and you had finished the beer but Benny replaced it with another coke afterwards. Hours passed and the rest of the patrons began to leisurely shuffle out, each calling out goodnight as they went. There were only a few left now, you realized as you glanced about the bar. Then, Benny asked if you wanted to see something.
He seized your hand in his and took you through the back of the bar, down the hallway and out the back door. The cool nighttime air was a refreshing change from the cigarette filled clubhouse. He led you around back to a closed in ladder leading to the roof. He opened the cage door and motioned for you first. You shot him an expected look.
“I’m not going up first!” You tried to act serious as you crossed your arms playfully, feeling an funny buzz from the drink.
“Why not?” he grinned, yeilding.
“Because, you just want to look up my skirt as I go.” You quirked a brow at him. “I’m not stupid, you know.”
“No, you definitely aren’t stupid. And I would never. I’m a gentleman.” He held a hand over his heart as if he was hurt by your insinuation.
“Yeah, sure you are,” You said, holding your ground.
He held up his arms in an appeasing way. “Alright, I’ll go up first. Just don’t trip and fall on your way up.”
You laughed as you began making your way up the ladder after him. You climbed up the two stories, the ladder clinking beneath each heel until you made it to the top where Benny offered a hand to help you up. A gentle breeze guided you to the far end of the rooftop where a generous view of the town lights, each twinkling like the stars above. You’d never seen this perspective of your little home town and it almost looked magical.
Benny went forward and lowered himself to sit down. He beckoned you to follow and, though you were scared, you moved to mirror his seat. He held your hand as you took a seat next to him. Your legs, significantly shorter than his, dangled off the edge, bumping lightly against the brick wall. He was close enough to feel the heat radiating from his body, close enough that your shoulders touched slightly.
“Wow, what a view, huh?” you said, voice barely above a whisper as the scent of his cologne wrapped around you.
Benny only nodded and you looked at him with a small smile, falling into a comfortable silence. Your gaze fluttered over his face, taking in the details in this dim lighting. His dilated pupils made his eyes darker and the shadow of his nose blended beautifully onto his lips. The gentle curl of his hair looked so soft and you didn’t even realize that your hand was reaching out. And maybe you tried to tell yourself that it was from the alcohol, but you knew you weren’t drunk. You touched him because you wanted to. Your fingers found the blonde tendrils and a gentle sigh escaped your lips because they were soft. His eyes were locked onto you and he remained unmoving, letting you take the reins.
“Do you actually want to marry me? Or were you just sayin’ that to get a reaction out of me?” you whispered, hand dropping back to your lap, fingers still tingling from the contact.
“Yes, I want to marry you.” His voice was a low rumble disrupting the silence of the rooftop.
You studied his face carefully, unable to look away. “How could you know that so soon?”
“You make really good cookies,” he retorted playfully and you gave him your best unamused look despite the fact that he left you very amused.
“I’m serious,” you said, fighting the smile tugging on your lips.
“I know you are,” he murmured, gaze flickering down to mouth. “I’m serious too – about marrying you and about your cookies.”
Heat filled your core. Like the undeniable pull of a magnet, you felt yourself drifting closer to him. “I bake more than just cookies, ya know.”
Benny groaned, “You’re teasin’ me, Bunny.”
“No, just letting you know what you’d be signing up with if you married me.” You smiled.
“I know exactly what I’m gettin’ myself into with you, Bunny,” he admitted slowly as he dipped his head lower, only a few inches from your face. His thumb and forefinger touched your chin softly. “Why else do you think I ran off Pete?”
You paused, brows furrowed at his words. “Wait, what?”
He didn’t seem to hear you as he continued forward and you lurched back before he could kiss you. “You did what to Pete?”
“I ran him off,” Benny explained as if it were obvious. “Had a talk with him.”
“Oh my god,” you breathed out harshly, a feeling of being drenched in icy water washed over you. “You saw him? Where?” Then it dawned on you. “You saw him at Ricardo’s? He actually showed up?”
He remained quiet, watching as you turned from the ledge, standing and began to pace as you worked through the thoughts hitting you faster than you could process.
“You ran him off? Oh my god, Benny. Is that code for something? Did you kill him?” You squeaked, the possibility of poor Pete being having to fight for his life played out like a complete disaster in your head.
“No.” He shook his head as if annoyed.
“Well what does that mean, then?” Your voice raised an octave as unease gripped your heart. “Did you beat him up?”
“I told you. I had a talk with him.” He said simply as he turned, flipping his legs over the ledge and faced you.
“You intimidated him! You with your loud bike and leather jacket and mean look, it wasn’t just a talk. He doesn’t deserve that. Pete is a good guy.”
Benny lifted his hands up in a placating way but the sarcastic look on his face caused anger to spike through you.
“What makes you think you had the right to do that?” You demanded as you planted your hands on your hip. “Where do you get off from?”
He opened his mouth to say something but thought better and closed it.
“You intimidated my date,” you snapped. “A date I was actually excited for by the way. He was kind and . . . had a nice smile.”
“I don’t see the problem,” he mumbled, narrowing his eyes at the ground in front of you.
“You don’t–” your mouth dropped open in shock, blood boiling at his audacity. You threw your hands up in exasperation as you spun away and made your way back to the ladder.
“Where are you going?” Benny called out as he trailed after you.
“I’m going home so I can call Pete and apologize.” You retorted over your shoulder. And probably check to see if he's not been put in the hospital because of the biker behind you.
Benny laughed. “I thought you said you were mad at him,”
“Well, I’m not anymore. I’m mad at you now,” You fumed as you shot him a look before you descended the ladder.
“Me?” Benny scrambled down the ladder after you but you didn’t slow your pace as you rounded the outside of the bar, heading for the sidewalk. It would be a long walk home, but you had no interest in getting a ride home from him.
He jogged to catch up, grabbing your arm to halt you. “I didn’t hurt ‘em. I swear.”
You spun around to face him. “That’s not the point. You men all think alike, don’t you? Thinkin' you can stake your claim like women are just . . . just objects, toys.”
Benny’s jaw clenched tightly. “I’m not goin’ to apologize for it if that’s what you’re thinking.”
You scoffed as you wrenched your arm free and turned away. You picked up your pace as you made your way down the sidewalk in the direction of you home.
“Can I at least give you a ride home?” He called out.
“Nope, I think it’s a perfect night for a walk, don’t you?” you replied without looking back, leaving Benny standing in the middle of the sidewalk in a stupefied silence.
-Tag List-
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#i'm desperate for some better quality gifs of benny#benny's in trouble hehe#benny x bunny#benny cross#the bikeriders#austin butler#austin butler x reader#benny cross x reader#benny x reader#fluff#imagine#austin butler fandom#austin bulter x you#tom hardy#jodie comer#bikeriders#jeff nichols#benny#motorcycle
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