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pedrospatch · 1 year ago

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fall into temptation | one

Jackson! Joel Miller x Preacher’s Daughter Reader

series masterlist

summary: Of all the women to catch Joel Miller’s attention—it just had to be one of the goddamned preacher’s daughters.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. SLIGHT PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION OF READER, mentions of her hair which she can put up into braids as well as her style of clothing. despite the nickname Joel gives her, it does not speak to her body type or size. AGE GAP (reader is in her 20’s and Joel is 56, i know, i know but this is self indulgent because my birthday is next month idk just let me have this one) canon language, canon violence, several mentions of religion, terms pastor and preacher are used interchangeably here and there, mentions of the bible and religious symbols (cross), innocent/virgin reader, very brief scene of attempted sexual assault, no explicit smut (yet). asshole Joel, protective Joel, hints of softish dom Joel (if you squint). reader has two sisters, the only physical description for them is their hair, which they can also braid as well as their style of clothing.

MOODBOARD FOR AESTHETIC PURPOSES ONLY, NO MENTION OF RACE OR BODY TYPE.

word count: 8.4k

Jackson, Wyoming

Fall 2024

Joel had seen him around the community before.

He’s an older man in his late sixties or possibly his early seventies with thinning, snow white hair and silver, wire rimmed glasses that always seemed to be perched on the tip of his pointed nose. He was a good, kind man from what Joel could gather—offering up warm smiles and friendly waves to anyone who happened to cross his path, stopping to greet and say hello to familiar faces. The hem of his starched white shirt is tucked into pressed black slacks and even from where he stood across the road near the horse stables, Joel noticed the book clutched in his right hand, old and bound in supple, worn black leather with the words Holy Bible etched into the cover in flaked gold lettering.

Jacob, he thinks his name is. Or was it Josiah?

Something biblical—a name fit for a man who was so fucking clearly devoted to the big man upstairs.

Joel knew his own name was a biblical one, but he was the furthest thing from a man of God. After all that he’d done in the past twenty years, there was only one place he was going and that place wasn’t exactly known for its pearly gates or sweet cherub angels playing harps.

Joseph? Was that it?

He couldn’t be certain.

Not that Joel really even cared to know his name.

It’d been a couple months since Joel arrived back in Jackson with Ellie after Salt Lake City and the truth of the matter was that he preferred to keep to himself whenever it was possible. Joel had zero interest in getting to know the people of this settlement, not unless he had to for the sake of patrol duties—and that’s only if he hadn’t been able to weasel his way out of getting assigned with a partner who wasn’t Tommy or Maria, the only two people in the whole fucking community Joel could stand being around. Minus his kid of course, but even he and Ellie could really only take each other in small doses lately. Perhaps it was their tense, strained relationship that was to blame for the fact that Joel Miller walked around this place with a standoffish attitude and a permanent scowl plastered on his face.

Most people were smart enough to scamper off in the opposite direction when they saw him coming. He was never offended by it. It’s what he wanted. He wasn’t here to make friends.

In fact, the closest thing he had come to a friend outside of his brother’s wife was Esther, the woman Maria and Tommy had tried setting him up with when he first got back to Jackson. He wouldn’t go as far as calling her a friend, either. That’s a little too generous. Friend? No, more like a good fuck when he couldn’t drown his bitterness with Seth’s barrel aged bourbon and he was in need of a different kind of distraction.

But there was a reason this particular man piqued his curiosity. Actually, there were three reasons he managed to garner Joel’s attention and all three of those reasons were trailing behind him in an orderly, single file line, each one more fucking gorgeous than the last. He was positive he’d never seen them around before—because how could he possibly forget the faces of the most beautiful women in this town?

They’ve gotta be sisters, Joel thought to himself, his hand resting on the neck of the horse that he’d ridden out to patrol that morning, a dark, chestnut mare named Willow. Although he was supposed to be walking her inside the stables and back into her stall, he found himself far too distracted. While the three women weren’t identical to one another, the similarity in their traits such as hair color and their skin tone confirmed his suspicions that they were related. They all styled their hair in neat halo braids and wore slightly different color variations of the same getup—pressed, long sleeved blouses tucked into knee length floral printed skirts and worn, leather oxford shoes.

Clutching the brown leather strap of his rifle in his opposite hand, Joel leaned himself against Willow and squinted against the bright afternoon sunlight in an effort to get a better look at them.

The first two were slightly on the older side. If Joel had to take a shot at their age, he would guess the women were in their thirties—a man of fifty six, he still had about two decades on them, easy. Joel let his gaze shift, his dark brown eyes flickering to the last one. His breath audibly hitched in his throat and part of him wondered just how fucking dumb he had to be to be drawn to the youngest one of the three. It couldn’t be fucking possible—you couldn’t be that much older than your mid twenties, if that.

Joel’s grip on the strap of his rifle tightened.

All three of you were beautiful beyond words—why the fuck did it have to be you who held over his interest?

“Take a picture,” Maria remarked with a tiny laugh. She dismounted her horse and peered at Joel over the black stallion’s back. “It’ll last longer.”

She’d led that morning’s patrol, her first time back on duty since she had given birth to her son in the spring. Joel had returned to Jackson right on time to meet his one month old nephew, Noah.

He cleared his throat and shrugged. “Just tryin’ to figure out what their deal is, that’s all.” He paused, then remarked, “Didn’t know polygamy was a thing around here.”

His comment must have struck a nerve in his dear sister in law—fiercely protective of the people who were under her leadership, Maria hadn’t found the sister wives implication the slightest bit amusing.

“Watch it, Joel,” she admonished, shooting him a warning glare. “He’s the town’s pastor and those girls happen to be his daughters. So let’s keep our wise ass cracks to ourselves, shall we?”

His daughters? He almost couldn’t believe it. Surely the girls must have taken after their mother because they sure as hell didn’t get their good looks from their old man. They hardly looked anything like him.

“Pastor,” Joel repeated with a small hum. He then remembered her pointing out an old church house back during the winter when she’d given him and Ellie the grand tour of the community. “So he ain’t got a real job like the rest of us?”

Maria rolled her eyes. “His job is a real job, Joel. It might be hard for you to believe, but there are still a lot of people of faith around here,” she explained to him. “He provides them with comfort and with hope—”

He snorted sharply through his nose. “Hope?”

“Yes, hope,” she snapped at him.

“Hope for what, Maria? That things will go back to fuckin’ normal? That the end of the world is temporary?”

Maria crossed her arms over her chest, jutting her chin. “Some people never lose hope, Joel. There’s a lot of people who need this man and he serves a much bigger purpose than what you’re giving him credit for.”

“And what about the girls? They have it easy too? Do they just stand there lookin’ pretty on Sundays while their old man reads verses out loud from the most useless fuckin’ book known to man?”

“If you must know, they work in the schoolhouse,” she answered, tossing him another glare. “They’re teachers. The oldest one, she teaches Ellie’s class. The middle one, she teaches the primary school aged children and the youngest? She takes care of all of our little ones. She prepares our preschool kids for her sister’s class by teaching them numbers and basic literacy. Shows them how to start counting, reading and writing, things like that. She also helps run the commune’s daycare.”

“At least they have real jobs,” Joel mumbled under his breath.

“What was that?”

He feigned innocence. “Nothin’. Nothin’ at all.”

“That’s exactly what I thought.” Maria pointed her finger at him. “Come on, let’s get these guys back into their stalls. It was a long ride this morning, I’m sure they could use some rest.” Taking her stallion by the reins, she started leading him over toward Logan, one of the stable hands who helped take in the horses coming back from patrol.

Joel took Willow’s reins in his hands—but before he could even think of moving another muscle, he glanced up and saw the preacher leading his three daughters past the stables and right past Joel. His self control faltered. All that he could do was stare at you, his eyes fixed on you so blatantly that one of your sisters had taken notice. Grinning, she turned back towards you and lifted a hand to her mouth. She used her palm to shield her lips from Joel’s view and whispered something to you over her shoulder.

Shit.

He’d been caught gawking.

He thought about making a beeline for the stables but it was too late.

Perplexed by whatever it was that your older sister had just said to you, you gave her an odd look, but then followed the subtle nod of her head.

Glimpsing over in his direction, your lips parted in complete surprise and you came to an abrupt halt in the middle of the dirt road when you found your gaze meeting that of the much older, rugged man standing there with a gun slung over his shoulder.

Unsure of what else to do, Joel simply offered you a polite nod of his head. The gesture was innocent enough but it startled you. He could tell by the way you let out a small gasp and turned away from him, your eyes falling to the ground as you scurried to catch up to your father and sisters like a spooked little mouse.

Joel couldn’t help but shake his head and laugh.

“Is the preacher aware that his precious little daughters pay frequent visits to The Tipsy Bison at such late and ungodly hours?” Joel quipped. He gestured to a booth nestled over in a corner of the dimly lit bar with a subtle jerk of his chin. “S’gotta be the third or fourth time I’ve seen them here in the last couple of weeks.”

Tommy’s eyes followed his brother’s gesture. “Oh man, not again,” he said with an exasperated sigh. He shook his head. “Those girls, they ain’t got no fuckin’ business hangin’ around this place and much less at this fuckin’ hour. But the middle one, she’s a whole lot of trouble.” He paused, just long enough to nod at one of the three sisters, the one who was wearing her hair loose around her shoulders, twirling a lock of it around her finger as she made flirtatious fuck me eyes at the group of drunk patrolmen sitting a few tables away. “She’s somethin’ of a rebel, that one. Likes to drink a lot, get herself involved with things that she ain’t really supposed to be messin’ with. She’s the one who convinces the other two into sneakin’ out and comin’ to the bar when their old man goes to sleep.”

Joel chuckled in disbelief. “You fuckin’ serious?”

“As a heart attack. And then there’s the older one. I know she likes to drink too, but she’s a lot calmer than the other one. Ain’t gotta worry about her all too much, y’know? She tries to be the chaperone—it don’t always work out that way, though. Her halo ain’t exactly perfect either.”

“What ‘bout the youngest one?” Joel asked in the most nonchalant tone he could possibly muster. “Where does she fall on the scale between angel and devil?”

You’re carefully perched on the edge of the booth, your pretty features twisting in disgust with every sip of the rich, amber colored liquid in your glass. Unable to stomach the burning alcohol, you set it off to the side, abandoning it in favor of a glass of water instead.

“Her?” Tommy grinned, leaning back into his chair as stated, “Oh, she’s an absolute angel. She’s just ‘bout the sweetest fuckin’ thing you’ll ever see in your whole damn life, big brother. She’s gotta be the kinda girl who all the little birds and woodland critters sing to when there ain’t no one around,” he laughed. “She’s real good. Too good. Wouldn’t surprise me if the lord sent her down from heaven himself.”

Joel tossed him a skeptical look across the table.

“She really as innocent as she seems?”

“I don’t think she even knows what it’s like to hold another man’s hand,” his younger brother laughed again and reached for his beer, taking a generous swig.

Joel hummed softly and lifted his glass of whiskey to his lips. The mere thought of you being so pure and so innocent—untouched by anyone else—caused something to stir deep in his lower belly.

“She’s the old man’s pride and joy,” Tommy continued, breaking into his train of thought. “Kind. Polite. Behaves. Doesn’t get herself into any kinda trouble—I mean look at her, she can’t even choke down a glass of whiskey. She’s just too good of a girl.”

Joel proceeded cautiously with his next question. “Any of them taken?”

Surprised, Tommy raised his eyebrows. “Joel, don’t fuckin’ tell me—”

“No, I ain’t interested,” he interjected, rolling his eyes. “Just a curious motherfucker, that’s all.”

He didn’t seem too convinced by Joel’s answer. “They’re all single from what I know. To be honest, there ain’t a whole lot of men around here their old man would approve of,” he remarked. “Don’t get me wrong, he’s a nice man and all, but when it comes to his daughters, he’s real strict. Not that controllin’ has done him much good, though.” He lowered his voice as a fellow patrolman walked past their table. “The middle one’s fucked her way through this entire town and then back again. She even made a pass at me while Maria was pregnant with Noah, if you can fuckin’ believe that.”

Amused, Joel snorted into his drink. Ballsy. “How goddamn drunk was she?”

Tommy ran a hand through his jet black curls. “Wasted. Oldest one ain’t exactly the Virgin Mary, either.”

“And the old man doesn’t know?”

“Nope. Ain’t nobody gonna snitch on grown women in their thirties.” Noticing the amused expression on Joel’s face, he adds, “By the way, just in case you haven’t figured it out, this stays between us, Joel.”

He smirked. “Which part?”

“All of it. And take it from me, those girls? S’best you keep your distance from them,” he warned as he stood up from the table. He picked up the blue denim jacket draped over his chair, shrugging into it. “Don’t go gettin’ any dumbass ideas, alright?”

“Look, if the wild one makes a pass at me, I ain’t gonna turn her down. S’not like I’ve got a pregnant wife at home.”

“Joel, I fuckin’ swear. If you even think ‘bout it—”

He held up his hands to stop him. “Relax. Was just a joke.”

“Right. M’sure it was.” Tommy snorted. “Listen, I gotta get back home. Don’t wanna leave Maria on her own with the baby for too long.”

“How’s she been holdin’ up?”

“She’s been so tired. Jugglin’ motherhood, runnin’ this place, and bein’ back on patrol duty. I keep on tryin’ to tell her to slow it down, but she just won’t listen to me.” He let out a small sigh and waved a dismissive hand. “But anyway. If you’re all good to head out, I can walk you back to your place since it’s on the way to mine?”

Joel looked down at his glass, still half full. “I think I’m gonna hang back for a while longer. I’m on the roster for evenin’ patrol tomorrow, s’not like I’ve gotta be up at the ass crack of dawn.”

“Suit yourself.” Clapping him on the back, Tommy bid him goodnight and started towards the door.

As soon as he was gone, Joel looked over towards your booth. He watched as you whispered into the ear of your eldest sister who nodded her head in understanding. You stood up and said something else to her, then spun around on your heel, long skirt flowing along with the movement. Head down, you hastily made your way across the bar, being careful so as not to bump into anyone along the way.

You were leaving. Alone.

In the middle of the fucking night? While drunk morons poured in and out of the bar?

She’ll be just fine, he tried to convince himself.

Joel frowned to himself, gripping his drink tightly in his hand as he scanned the room.

Sitting at a nearby table was Kent, some idiot he’d been stuck with a time or two for patrol. He clocks the smirk that crossed the younger man’s face, his eyes following you all the way to the door. Leaning forward over the table, he whispered something to his buddies, his smirk widening. His comrades, all who looked and behaved more like teenagers rather than grown men, lifted their beers to him, nodding in encouragement. Drunk off his ass, Kent drained the rest of his own beer, slamming the glass bottle down onto the table before clumsily stumbling to his feet.

Joel momentarily froze as soon as he realized what was happening.

Kent was going after you.

Joel’s lips pressed together into a tight, thin line.

Setting his drink down, he stood up from his table and slipped on his jacket before following suit.

Joel stepped out of the bar and into the night, the chilly evening air nipping at his face. He took a look around.

You were nowhere to be seen. Neither was Kent.

That couldn’t fucking be good.

“Where the fuck did you two go,” he muttered to himself under his breath.

That’s when he heard it.

The sound of muffled screaming coming from the side of the building. Joel didn’t hesitate. Following your smothered cries for help, he whipped around into the dimly lit alley nestled in between the bar and the commune’s mess hall. You’re pinned underneath Kent with your skirt bunched up around your waist. One of his hands was covering your mouth while his other hand clawed its way up your bare thigh.

“Aw, c’mon now, sugar,” Kent slurred his words together. “It’d be a fucking shame to let someone as cute as you stay a fucking virgin. Don’t be coy—I know you’re just like your stupid slut of a sister. She’s got no trouble spreading her fucking legs for me, y’know.”

Red.

It was the color that flashed in Joel’s mind. It was all he could see as he went up behind Kent, letting his hands reach for fistfuls of his leather jacket. He lifted him off of you with ease, slamming him hard against the brick wall of the mess hall. Pulling him forward, Joel slammed his body into the wall once more, knocking all the wind out of his lungs.

“Miller, what the fuck are you doing!” Kent gasped out, frantically pawing at the older man’s hands in an effort to break free. “Get the fuck off me!”

“Takin’ advantage of an innocent girl?” Joel hissed at him, tightening his grasp on the collar of Kent’s jacket. “Think that makes you a fuckin’ man?”

Though he was still intoxicated, the sheer terror of being caught in Joel Miller’s hands sobered him just enough that he started sputtering an explanation. “I wasn’t fucking taking advantage of her! Her and her whore sisters were making eyes at me and the guys all fucking night! She fucking wanted it! She asked me for it, couldn’t even wait long enough to get back to my place—”

The lie came straight through his chattering teeth. The same teeth he would be picking up off the ground in the next minute or two.

Joel knew he didn’t need to ask. Still, he turned to you, his rage only intensifying when he took in the sight of you lying there on the ground, the hem of your light blue floral skirt hiked around your waist.

“That true?” He questioned you. “You wanted it?”

You stared at him with wide and fearful eyes.

A single tear slipped down the side of your face.

“Answer me, darlin’,” he prompted. “You wanted this?”

“No. I didn’t.” Your voice was small, barely audible.

But he’d heard it loud and clear.

“She’s lying!” Kent tried to tell him. “She’s—”

Joel delivered the first punch, a blow so hard he’d felt the younger man’s nose crack underneath his curled fist. He struck him again and again, the blows coming in harder and harder, turning Kent’s face into a bloodied pulp.

If Joel didn’t get a grip, he would kill him. Part of him wanted to fucking kill Kent for putting his hands you—and more so for accusing of you wanting it. Pathetic fucking bastard.

Holding Kent up by the throat with one hand, Joel pulled his switchblade from the back pocket of his jeans with the other. Fingers curled tightly around the hilt, Joel held up the knife into Kent’s view. He had left his eyes purple and swollen, but judging by the pitiful little pleas for mercy, it was clear that he could still somehow see the sharp blade being held an inch or so away from his face.

“If I ever catch you anywhere near her again, I ain’t gonna be so fuckin’ generous,” Joel growled warningly. “I ain’t gonna let you walk away next time, boy. That understood?”

He nodded. “Un—Understood.”

“Good.” Joel released him, stepping backwards as he fell to the ground. “Get the fuck outta my face. Now.”

Kent managed to scramble to his feet and staggered off, disappearing from the alley.

Chest heaving, Joel inhaled a deep breath through his nose, then exhaled it through his mouth before turning to you once more.

Petrified, you still hadn’t moved a single muscle.

You looked fucking terrified. Whether it was from Kent’s assault or the way Joel had nearly beaten him to death right in front of you, it was hard to tell.

Crouching down beside you, Joel caught your subtle flinch. He proceeded to move slowly as he reached for the hem of your skirt. Delicately, he gripped the soft, flowing fabric and pulled it down into place. Joel then held his hand out to you.

You hesitated for a split second, but accepted his hand and allowed him to help you up to your feet.

“You alright, little dove?” The nickname had fallen from his lips before he could even think to stop it.

“I think so,” you replied, nodding your head. You’d started to tremble and even though it had nothing to do with being cold, Joel took notice of it and he shrugged out of his camel colored jacket. He gave it to you, draping it over your shoulders. The scent of him instantly enveloped you—a mouth watering masculine mixture of clean soap, woodiness, and musk. It was far more intoxicating than the scotch you had tried back inside the bar. He didn’t utter a word to you as he wrapped his jacket around your body, both of his hands pulling gently at the lapels to bring them together in front of your chest. That was when you glanced down and saw he’d injured his hand. You gasped lightly. “Are you okay?”

Maybe it was the adrenaline, but Joel hadn’t even noticed that he’d split his knuckles wide open. Giving it a light shake, he assured you gruffly, “M’fine.”

Without thinking it through, you gingerly grabbed Joel’s hand, holding it in both of yours. “It doesn’t look like nothing,” you countered. You inspected it as best as you could in such poor lighting. “You’re bleeding.”

“Trust me, I’ve had a whole lot worse,” he deadpanned.

Ignoring his remark, you asked, “Can you move all your fingers for me? Just to make sure that it isn’t broken?”

Joel felt a strange warmth radiate in his chest.

Fucking hell, Tommy had been right about you.

You really were too good.

“Darlin’ I already told you m’fine—”

“Please?”

That word, and the way you’d said it, sent a shiver up the length of his spine.

Joel started wiggling his fingers in your palms. He winced slightly at the soreness. More than that, he knew his cuts and bruises would be all the fucking proof Tommy and Maria would need to know that he had been the one who rearranged Kent’s face.

“See?” He spoke after a minute as he continued to move his fingers up and down. “Ain’t broken.”

“Let me clean you up,” you offered. Looking up at him, you cradled his hand as if it were a fragile baby bird you wanted to take home and nurse back to health.

“That really ain’t necessary.”

“You just saved me from—it’s the least I can do for you,” you insisted. Seeing him open his mouth just to protest again, you cut him off. “Please?”

There it was again.

Christ. That word sounded too good coming from those plush, pretty lips of yours.

Joel sighed out in defeat. “Alright then,” he relented. “I s’ppose there ain’t no harm in lettin’ you clean me up a bit, little dove.”

Pleased that he had finally accepted, you carefully let go of his hand and took a step back, beckoning for him to follow you. “Come with me,” you said to him. “I know somewhere private we can go.”

When you came to a stop at the old church house, Joel shook his head and took a step backwards.

Puzzled, your brows knitted together. “What is it? What’s the matter?”

He backed away further. “I ain’t goin’ in there.”

You tossed him an amused glance. “It’s a church.”

“Yeah, I know that. I ain’t exactly a man of God.”

You couldn’t help but giggle. “So? What does that have to do with me taking you inside to clean your hand up for you?”

Shuffling his weight from boot to boot, Joel shrugged. “Just don’t think I belong in there, that’s all.”

“Do you think you’re going to melt if you step foot inside?” you teased him. After a minute, it became apparent that he was being serious about it. Joel’s discomfort about going inside the church wasn’t some kind of joke on his part, it was real. “Don’t be silly. It doesn’t matter that you’re not a man of God. That doesn’t mean that you’re going to explode or burn into a pile of ashes for going inside, you know.”

“After all the terrible shit I’ve done?” He looked up at the building, shaking his head again. “I just might burn, little dove.”

You bit back a small smile. You’d already grown to be quite fond of his sweet nickname for you.

“There’s a first aid kit inside I can use to patch you up,” you told him. “It won’t take long, I promise.”

His lower lip rolled in between teeth as he thought it over. “I ain’t too sure about this—”

“It’s only going to take me five minutes to get your hand cleaned up and then you can leave. Okay?”

You were as stubborn as you were sweet. How the fuck was he supposed to say no to you?

Reluctantly, Joel finally agreed to it. “Okay.” He followed you up the creaking, wooden porch steps towards the double doors. He’d just started to wonder how the two of you were even supposed to get into the building after hours when you leaned down, lifting the old mat on the floor to reveal a set of keys. Unable to help himself, he scoffed, “Serious?”

“Doesn’t everyone keep a key under their mat?”

“Yeah at their fuckin’ house. Not their church.”

“Well to be fair, this is kind of like a second home. I spend quite a bit of time here,” you confessed.

Joel raised an eyebrow at you. “So much time that you’ve decided to keep a set of keys under the mat?”

Sheepishly, you nodded. “Sometimes when I can’t sleep at night, I’ll come here alone and sit with my thoughts for a while.” You shrugged. “Maria let me have the spare set of keys. She knows I come here and so does the rest of the council. I trespass with their full permission,” you kidded with a small grin.

Unlocking one of the two doors, you stepped over the threshold and waited expectantly for Joel. But he stood there, making no move to join you on the other side.

“This place gives me the fuckin’ creeps,” he admitted.

You laughed. “It’s only the outside that’s creepy, I promise.”

Grimacing, Joel finally walked inside, his back and shoulders stiff with tension as he stepped into the place of worship.

You closed the door and flipped on the lights, then opened a second set of double doors with another key from the ring.

“Whoa.” He was pleasantly surprised. For as old as this place was, the interior of the church was quite nice. He could tell that it had been well cared for in its lifetime—the former contractor in him had little choice but to appreciate the high ceiling, the large windows, and the satin finish of the white paint on the rustic, wooden panel walls.

There were a total of twelve pews, six on each side of the church. There was an older, antique piano in pristine condition nestled over in one corner of the room and in another, there was a large chalkboard propped up on a wooden easel, biblical verses that had been the focus of the congregation’s previous gathering still scribbled across it in white chalk.

“See?” You nudged his arm with your elbow. “This isn’t so awful, right?”

“S’ppose it ain’t all that bad,” he muttered.

Your eyes twinkled with pure amusement, adding, “And you didn’t burn into a pile of ashes.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Joel grumbled out in response. “Can we just get this over with so I can get outta here?”

You tossed him a playful little eye roll then nodded towards the pews. “Go ahead and just have a seat anywhere,” you instructed him. “I’ll be right back.”

You disappeared down a short, dimly lit corridor.

Letting out a heavy sigh, Joel slowly made his way down the aisle holding his injured hand against his chest. Now that the adrenaline had started wearing off, it’d started throbbing with pain.

There was an altar at the front of the church—if he could even call it an altar.

It was a plain oakwood table with a white fair linen cloth draped over it and nothing else.

Above it, bolted onto the wall, was a wooden cross.

He averted his eyes, turning away from it.

Of all the shit to be intimidated by in this world.

A fucking slab of carved wood.

Joel’s attention shifted over to the chalkboard. He squinted at it, silently reading the verse to himself.

God is faithful, and he will not let you be tempted beyond your ability. 1 Corinthians 10:13

“But with the temptation, he will also provide the way of escape, that you may be able to endure it,” you recited the rest of the verse from behind him.

“No offense darlin’, but it sounds like nothin’ but a whole lotta gibberish to me,” he remarked to you over his shoulder.

“No offense taken, Joel.”

Whirling around on the heel of his worn boot, Joel blurted, “How did you know my name?”

“You’re Tommy Miller’s brother. Everybody in this town knows your name.” You held up the white tin box in your hands. A big, red cross had been spray painted onto the lid. You sat down in the first pew and patted the seat right beside you. “Come sit.”

He sauntered over and dropped down next to you, watching as you opened up the box and started digging through its contents. “You know my name,” he stated after a few seconds of silence. “Sure would be nice for me to know yours.”

Smiling politely, you told him your name.

Joel repeated it. It rolled almost too sweetly off his tongue.

“S’real pretty, little dove. Just like you.”

His compliment nearly knocked all of the air out of your lungs and for a split second, you have to remind yourself to breathe.

Cheeks burning, you murmured a small thank you and plucked a bottle of saline solution from the kit along with a piece of clean cotton. You tried not to think about the way his eyes were fixed intently on you as you unscrewed the cap and poured a bit of the liquid onto the cotton. “It shouldn’t sting,” you reassured him, reaching for Joel’s injured hand. It was rough and calloused, a stark contrast against your own soft and smooth. You set his hand down on your knee, a strange sensation fluttering in the depths of your lower belly when the warmth of his skin seeped right through the fabric of your skirt.

Comfortable silence fell over the both of you like a curtain as you started cleaning the blood off of his knuckles and his long, thick fingers.

“You really believe in all this stuff?” Joel spoke, his question echoing off the bare walls of the church.

You continued dabbing at his cuts, thinking it over in your head for a moment.

“I honestly don’t know,” you admitted.

Your answer took him by complete surprise.

“What do you mean you don’t know?”

“I have always been taught to believe in God, Joel. It’s all that I’ve ever known. I grew up in a religious community,” you explained to him, making sure to keep your eyes focused on his hand. Tossing aside the bloodied wad of cotton, you picked up another piece adding more saline to it. “After the outbreak, things changed, of course. I couldn’t imagine how He could let something like this happen. When we lost our mother to infection about five years ago, I stopped praying. I finally stopped holding onto the ounce of hope I had that He would make the world right again. I refused to believe in God. Sometimes I still do,” you confessed quietly.

“You said you spend a lot of time here. Why come to church if you’re not even sure you believe in any of this shit anymore?”

“I’m always here because there’s still a part of me that thinks there’s a chance for me to believe again. When I told you I come here when I can’t sleep at night, it’s true. It’s my time to be here completely alone, the time that I use to mend my broken relationship with God. Or at least, I’ve been trying to mend it.” Taking a little glass pot of homemade antibiotic ointment one of the women in the town made and traded, you took off the lid and scooped out some of the salve with the tip of your finger. You applied it carefully to his cuts and continued, “But lately, the more that I try to pray and talk to Him, the more foolish I feel. It’s just not working. It hasn’t been working for a long, long time.”

“Then why keep tryin’ if it ain’t workin’ anymore?”

“Because I don’t really have much of a choice.”

“Your old man?” Joel guessed, wincing slightly as you went over a particularly sore spot on his hand, right over the torn up knuckle of his index finger.

“Mhm.” You nodded. “My father never lost faith in Him. He knows how I feel, but he refuses to let me give up on God. He won’t ever let me miss church or go to bed without reciting my nightly prayer. He won’t let me abandon our faith. Not until the day he is cold and buried in his grave.”

“So what I’m gettin’ is that he forces you?”

You finished applying the ointment and wiped the remnants lingering on your finger off on your skirt.

“Force is such a harsh word. I wouldn’t say that—”

“He’s forcin’ you,” Joel said, flatly.

“Joel—”

“You can twist it however the hell you want, sweet girl,” he cut you off. “But if you’re tryin’ this fuckin’ hard to make yourself believe in somethin’ just for the sake of appeasin’ your dad because he can’t or won’t accept how you really feel ‘bout all this, well I hate to break it to you, but you’re bein’ forced.”

Your eyes widened ever so slightly at his words.

You had never thought about it like that before.

Placing the lid back onto the pot of ointment, you put it back into the first aid kit and then set the tin box down onto the floor. You sat back and clasped your hands together in your lap, not knowing what else to say to him.

He was right, after all.

Joel’s fingers lightly squeezed your knee. “Hey.”

You brought your gaze over to meet his. “Hm?”

“Can I ask you somethin’ ‘bout your dad?”

“What is it?”

Joel chose his words carefully. “Has he ever—he ain’t ever done anythin’ to hurt you, has he?” he asked you, earning himself a perplexed stare. He continued to elaborate. “What I mean is, he ever put his hands on you or anythin’ like that?”

Oh. That’s what he meant.

“Never,” you assured him quickly. “He would never lay a single finger on me or my two sisters.”

He gave your knee another squeeze. “Just needed to make sure of it, sweetheart. Back in the day, I used to hear and see awful things on the news ‘bout—”

You were quick to cut him off. “Look, my father isn’t perfect, but he’s not like that. He’s a good man who only wants what is best for us. He’s strict and he can be tough, but it’s only because he cares. He just doesn’t want us running down the wrong path.”

“The wrong path?”

You shrugged. “Life here in Jackson is decent, but there’s a lot of temptations he doesn’t want any of us falling into. He wants to protect us.”

“By controllin’ you.”

It had been a statement, not a question.

Giving him a wry smile, you assured him, “Joel, it’s really not as bad as you’re making it sound. I could be a whole lot worse off than this, you know.”

There was another short bout of silence.

Joel’s dark eyes fell to your blouse, noticing how a couple of the top buttons had come undone.

He caught the slightest glimpse of the soft curves of your breasts—all it had taken was just a peek at them for his cock to twitch against the zipper of his jeans.

Don’t you get hard in a fuckin’ church, Miller.

His gaze wandered down a little further and that’s when he caught sight of the cross hanging from a delicate gold chain clasped around your neck.

Joel expected the sight of it to calm the straining in his jeans. Somehow, it only made it worse.

“Earlier, when we were standing outside,” you had started to say, “You said you might burn if you came inside the church because of all the terrible shi—things that you’ve done.”

“S’right.”

You peered at him with curiosity. “So what exactly have you done, Joel?”

Joel leaned back into the pew, shaking his head at you as he finally pulled his hand from your knee.

“You really don’t wanna know, little dove.”

“Why not?”

His answer was honest. “Don’t want you to be scared of me.”

Angling your body towards him, you placed one of your hands on his thigh. Your fingers burned right through the dark blue denim of his jeans.

Joel’s lips parted slightly, taken aback by the bold move and the sudden shift in your demeanor.

Were you the same girl who’d nearly had a fucking heart attack a couple of weeks ago when Joel had nodded at you back at the stables?

“I’m not scared of you,” you murmured, softly. You gave his leg a squeeze, pulling your plump bottom lip between your teeth. Between that and the wide innocent doe eyes that you were giving him, it was taking every last ounce of strength Joel had inside him to keep a straight face, to pretend you weren’t driving him absolutely wild with desire.

He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d felt such an incredible need to have someone.

Want, sure.

He had wanted Tess. He had wanted Esther.

But Joel didn’t just want you.

He fucking needed you.

And he didn’t know why.

“I’m not scared of you,” you repeated, trailing your hand further up his thigh, setting a fire neither one of you would soon be able to contain.

Joel leaned forward, bringing his face dangerously close towards yours. His warm breath fanned over your lips. It was still laced with bourbon. “You sure ‘bout that, darlin’ girl?”

You tried to answer him in the steadiest voice that you could muster, but it was impossible for you to hide the effect this man had on you.

You breathed out a shaky, “I’m sure.”

Lifting his uninjured hand, he reached up to tuck a loose lock of hair that had fallen out of your braids behind your ear. As his hand fell away, the palm of it grazed against the silkiness of your cheek.

Though brief, the contact sent an electric current through each and every last single nerve ending in your entire body.

Exhaling sharply, your eyelids fluttered closed. You nearly whimpered out his name. “Joel?”

“What is it, babygirl? What do you want?”

“I—I want you to kiss me.”

Joel leaned in even closer, stopping only when his mouth was less than an inch away from yours.

You heard him chuckle softly.

“Y’know, I’d expect better manners from a good girl like you,” he tsked lightly, his nose skimming near the corner of your mouth. Closer. “What’s the magic word, little dove?”

“Please.”

“S’much better.”

Your heart pounded with anticipation.

It was almost too much for you to handle.

Joel closed the remaining gap of space, capturing your lips with his own. He remembered his brother talking about you at the bar—how he had told Joel that you had never even held a man’s hand before.

It occurred to him that he was giving you your first kiss. Him. Joel Miller. The town’s resident asshole and a man who was well over twice your own age. He was the one giving you your very first kiss.

The guilt suddenly started to creep in, sinking into his bones.

What the fuck had he been thinking?

And what about you?

Where the fuck had your common sense gone?

Probably ran off together with Joel’s.

“Sweetheart,” he murmured, pulling away slightly in an attempt to stop it from going any further. He tried again, mumbling against your lips, “We gotta stop. This ain’t right—”

You were having none of it.

None.

Clutching fistfuls of Joel’s denim shirt, you swung your leg over his thighs and straddled his lap. Your knees rested on either side of him on the bench.

“Please,” you nearly pleaded. “Just kiss me. I want it—I want this. I promise you that I do.” You placed both of your hands on his broad shoulders, sliding them around him as you slowly sank down further onto his lap. “I want this, Joel.”

Suddenly, he realized that you were asking him for more than just his kiss.

Now he knew for sure that all common sense had left that pretty little head of yours.

“Baby, y’need to think real hard ‘bout this—”

Desperate, you uttered one final, “Please.”

Joel bit back a groan. How could he deny you?

He couldn’t. Simple as that.

“You sure ‘bout this?”

Your fingers toyed with the curls at the nape of his neck. “Yes. I’m sure.”

“C’mere then, darlin’ girl.”

Joel cupped the side of your face in his large palm and tilted his head up towards yours. Your mouths fused together and although he tried to be gentle, it was proving to be much too difficult—how could he be gentle when you were practically clinging to him? Holding onto him with fervor as if you’d been holding onto dear fucking life itself?

Temperatures rising, you quickly shrugged out of his jacket, letting it fall to the floor behind you with a soft thud before wrapping your arms around him once again. You melted against him as your mouth molded to his in a perfect fit.

His teeth nipped at your bottom lip, silently asking for permission to explore the cavern even further.

Eagerly, your lips parted, granting him access. His tongue slipped past them, meeting yours in a slow and sensual heated dance.

You breathed him deeply into your lungs, a little moan vibrating at the back of your throat.

Joel’s hands went to your waist and he yanked the hem of your blouse free from your skirt.

“Can I feel you, baby?” he asked, breathlessly. His mouth abandoned yours and he began to trail hot, open mouthed kisses underneath your jawline.

Dazed, all you could do was nod in reply and utter, “Mhm.”

Joel’s hands slipped under your blouse and he slid them up the length of your sides. “Fuck, you gotta be the softest fuckin’ thing,” he cursed against the delicate, tender flesh of your neck. His lips latched onto your pulse point, suckling at the skin there as his fingertips dug into your hips. He needed to feel more, but he forced himself to wait. The last thing he wanted to do was make a wrong move or move too fast and scare you off.

“Joel,” you mewled his name. “Joel, I need—”

You trailed off, moaning when his mouth released your skin with a loud, wet popping noise.

“Tell me, sweet girl. Tell me what you need and I’ll give it to you,” he promised. “Anythin’ you need or want, I’ll give it to you. Just say the fuckin’ word.”

“You, Joel. I need you.”

His hips involuntarily bucked upwards and you let out a startled gasp the moment you felt his bulge, hard as a rock, brush against your clothed cunt.

Tearing away from him, it suddenly hit you. You’re in a church, straddling a much, much older man in a pew—and if that wasn’t sinful enough, the warm and slick arousal pooling between your thighs only proved that you were ready to fall into temptation, give into the lust and give your body to Joel. But it was none of those things that worried you. It was something else.

You pulled yourself out of his arms and jumped up off his lap, nearly tripping over your own two feet.

“Darlin’ are you—?”

You didn’t even hear the rest of his question.

Knees trembling, you somehow managed to make your way up to the altar. Heart pounding and head spinning, you planted both of your hands firmly on the table and steadied yourself. Part of you hoped that Joel would just get up and leave. But a bigger part of you hoped he wouldn’t.

Joel rose to his feet. “Listen, ain’t nothin’ wrong if you changed your mind, alright?”

“I didn’t,” you choked out. “That’s—that’s not it at all.”

“Then what’s the matter?”

Embarrassed, you tried to explain yourself. “I have never done anything like this before. I’m a—”

You couldn’t even bring yourself to say the word out loud.

“You’re a what?”

Blazing heat flooded your face. “Joel, please don’t make me say it,” you groaned. “For the sake of my sanity, don’t make me say it.” You heard the sound of his brown leather boots as he walked up behind you, one heavy footstep after the other.

“Turn around, sweet girl.”

Joel’s command was firm but still gentle.

Swallowing dryly, you obeyed and did as you were told. He stood close and you found yourself at eye level with his chest.

“Look at me.”

You tried, but couldn’t.

“I said, look at me.” Joel gingerly took your chin in between his thumb and index finger. He lifted your face, forcing your gaze to meet his own, timid and submissive meeting bold and dominant in a sweet and tender exchange. “Never known the lovin’ of a man, have you little dove?”

He backed you up against the table, pinning you in between it and himself. Planting both of his hands on either side of you, he caged you in and brought his chest flush against yours, pressing your bodies together.

Close, but somehow not close enough.

Joel lifted his hand to your cheek, cradling it in his palm. His thumb swept over your quivering bottom lip.

You reached behind you, clutching at the fair linen as you tried with every fiber of your entire being to remind yourself that you were standing at the altar where your father preached and delivered all of his sermons to the faithful people of Jackson.

The very same altar where your father encouraged you to kneel and pray in effort to mend the broken relationship you had with God.

You couldn’t help but to think if you were to get on your knees tonight, it wouldn’t be for prayer.

“I asked you a question, darlin’.” Joel’s voice broke into your train of thought. “Need you to be a good girl and give me an answer, alright?”

“My father loves me,” you stammered out in reply. “He loves me and my sisters—”

“C’mon, babygirl.” He chuckled and shook his head at you, lightly pinching your cheek. “That ain’t what I mean and you damn well know it.”

Sighing softly, you finally answered, “No, Joel.”

“No, what?”

“No, I’ve never known the loving of a man.”

Joel slipped the tip of his thumb between your lips and leaned into you, his hardness pressing against your upper thigh. Even through all the clothes, you could feel every inch of him. “Do you wanna know how it feels, baby? What it feels like when a man makes you his own?”

You nearly moaned around his finger. “Yes.”

“Yes, what?” he prompted, pulling his hand away.

“Yes, please.”

“I can show you.” Joel paused. “But not tonight.”

You stared at him in disbelief. Both of you were so clearly riled up and he was going to take a pass?

He almost laughed at your expression.

“C’mon, don’t give me that face.”

“But Joel—”

“Just don’t wanna rush it, not with you,” Joel said in a tone so soft it nearly threw you for a loop. “M’gonna need you to be real patient for me, just for a little while, alright? You think you can do that, little dove? Think you can be patient for me?”

Your answer came without an ounce of hesitation.

“Of course,” you breathed.

You would wait an eternity for Joel Miller.

#joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x y/n #joel miller smut #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller series #joel miller story #joel miller self insert #the last of us fic #pedro pascal characters #fic: fall into temptation

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airybcby · 6 months ago

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Now I'm Covered In You

(bllk boys as boyfriends)

a / n — thought making another post in this form would be fun, so i hope you enjoy!

content — bllk characters x reader, gn! reader, pet names used in a few parts, sadly canon otoya i fear, misspelled words are there for a reason i swear, cheater! otoya and oliver, some characters repeated, lmk if i missed anything!

synopsis — bllk boys and what type of boyfriend they'd be

✿.｡. “ how's one to know? ” .｡.✿

—The Romantic One

is always planning surprises for you, and i mean always. there's not a single week where you aren't being taken on 'adventures' that always lead you to a different restaurant.

what's the point in having all this money and not spending it on you?

they are constantly writing you love letters and poems. well, they try to anyway. they're not the best with their words and with many spelling mistakes, rather liking to show with actions, but they tried for you.

usually their poems end up something like this

' roses are red

so is my heart

my darling

my deer

my sweet buttercup

you taste just like a

tasty soda pop '

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ ISAGI YOICHI, shido ryusei, jyubei aryu, ALEXIS NESS

— The Player

you know the famous saying, "how you get them is how you lose them?" yeah that's exactly how this relationship is.

you'd been one of their many side quests while they had a relationship going on. eventually after they'd ended said relationship, they'd chose you as their next partner.

they do spoil you with many gifts, mostly after you catch them cheating on you for the umpteenth time, but you stayed because they 'loved you'

sure they told you they loved you, but that wasn't really the case when they'd broken up with you because you were 'boring' them.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ OTOYA EITA, oliver aiku

— The Protector

is constantly worrying about you and is looking out for your safety.

with them being this 'big bad' soccer player, many people refuses to even look you in the eyes when you were with them. but if someone dared to hit on you when they walk off for a second? please pray for them.

some guy could be asking you for directions and he'd come up behind you and wrap an arm around you without even uttering a word. you didn't have to look at them to know the look they were giving the man was nothing but deadly.

some may call it controlling, but you knew them, they just wanted to keep you safe from all these men.

you had him, who else would you need?

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ KUNIGAMI RENSUKE, rin itoshi, SHOEI BARO, tabito karasu

— The Funny (insane) One

is constantly making jokes- some that aren't funny - but you laugh anyways.

everyone always asks you how your relationship is doing so well, and the answer is always, " i don't know," because you genuinely don't. yes, the two of you get into arguments, and sometimes the two of you get heated enough to have to take time apart from each other, but you always come back together.

how?

because they always forget what the fight was even about and come back into your space to show you some cat meme they believe you would like.

and the two of you laugh until you feel better again.

maybe you don't know how your relationship is so healthy, but you know why you're happy.

because they take the time to make you laugh.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ BACHIRA MEGURU, RYUSEI SHIDO, gin gagamaru, seishiro nagi

— The Traditional One

dates. Dates. DATES!!

they took you on soooo many dates before officially asking you to be their partner.

they definitely give the vibes of "my mom taught me i needed to..."

just the best gentleman!

you need to step over a puddle? they're putting their jacket down over it for you (it wasn't necessary, but they insisted on it)

you talked about wanting to see a movie once? he's already bought the tickets.

if you get married? he's insisting you stay home

" a pretty face like you doesn't need to work, i'll provide us everything." in his words

will do anything for you, really.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ YUKIMIYA KENYU, michael kaiser (pls ignore the mom part), REO MIKAGE, oliver aiku (again)

✿.｡. “ i'd meet you where the spirit meets the bone ” .｡.✿

likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!!

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keeira2 · 2 months ago

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I’LL ALWAYS LOVE YOU

stalkerexbf!rafe x fem!reader

masterlist

summary: life takes a weird turn when your introduced with an anonymous stalker. but everything changes when he breaks into your house and your met with him face to face..

warnings: crazy!rafe, pantie stealing?, creepy!rafe, rafe threatens you with a gun, sort of cnc, heavy on the smut, CNC, spit kink, degrading kink, tied up reader, soft!rafe at the end? MDNI 18+!! if i miss any pls lmk

a/n: this is kinda long whoops, not rlly proof read so ignore any mistakes pls. it’s also rlly kinky js giving everyone a heads up. hope you guys like it :3

after another long shift at the pelican yacht club, you’re finally home. throwing your keys onto the kitchen bench nd undress for ur shower. which was what you desperately needed after serving snobby kooks for the past six hours. you let the hot water fall down your body. scrubbing ur scalp and body clean of any grime from the day.

wrapped in ur towel, you walk to ur bedroom to get dressed. grabbing a baggy tee nd a lacy thong. as ur going thru ur lingerie drawer, you notice ur favourite pair of black panties missing? which was weird because you remember folding them nd placing them in there the night before.

you brush past it, getting dressed nd collapsing onto the bed to watch murder documentaries. after less than half the episode, you find urself drifting into a deep sleep.

days, even weeks go by, your daily routine unphased. another closing shift at work, you grab ur belongings nd start to walk home. usually you’d catch the bus, but when you close it’s already 10pm nd there aren’t any buses running this late to the cut. so you walk home, wrapped in ur fur hoodie trying to ignore the cold air.

it’s only a 10 minute walk to get home, which has never been a problem especially bc you know most ppl in the cut. but this time you feel a burning gaze shooting right thru you.

you shiver, partly because it’s cold but mostly bc you have an overbearing feeling that ur being watched. you hear a rustling in the bushes behind you, which could’ve been the wind but you were NOT taking any chances. so you start to run, not looking back. you don’t stop until you get home, quickly unlocking the door nd slamming it closed behind you.

you make sure to lock all the doors and windows before hopping in the shower, which helped you shake the creepy feeling off of you. you heat up some popcorn nd snuggle under your covers.

ur trying to pick a movie to watch, occasionally leaning over to grab a handful of popcorn you hear your phone ‘ding!’. lazily reaching over to grab and check it, you freeze when ur gaze lands on the message.

unknown number: you don’t need to run away from me, doll. was js making sure you got home safe ;)

someone was following you. oh my god. you sat still for a moment, still in shock. how did they get your number? how long have they been following you? you basically led them to your home, do they know where you live now?

millions of thoughts racing through ur head, you couldn’t help but text back, your hands shaking over the letters.

you: who are you???? please leave me alone.

before you can even shut ur phone off, another ‘ding!’ catches your attention like he was waiting for your response.

unknown number: you’ll find out who i am soon enough. i’m just looking after you, don’t be scared, doll.

what does he mean i’ll found out soon enough? is he gonna come after me? did he follow me home? you’re literally shaking in fear now, ur mind racing with different possibilities.

you: please. leave me alone.

you see he’s typing, but stops. he doesn’t text you for the rest of the night, maybe he listened and he’s actually gonna leave you alone. you were just hoping that maybe it was a prank from ur friends. anything except the fact that you might actually have a stalker.

you struggle to fall asleep that night. tossing and turning in your bed, desperately trying to calm yourself. ‘the doors are locked, nobody can get in. ur okay’ you reassure yourself.

a few days go by and you start to notice more panties going missing. what the fuck? you’re left with only a few pairs now, and there’s no way you’ve just misplaced them. the realisation dawns on you. what if he’s been here. has he been in ur house??

you try calming yourself down. ensuring every window nd door is locked. sitting back down ur cozy bed, u slip under the covers and bring ur knees up to your chest in a fetal position. your breathing is heavy while u hold ur head in ur hands. you quietly sob. ur so scared. you’ve only been living by yourself for 6 months and you were scared then. why me??

you didn’t even realise how much time had gone by or when you’d gotten tired. but you rub your closed eyes, letting out a big yawn and stretching your arms out. but when you finally open them, you freeze.

a man is standing in ur room, looking right at you. you can’t muster up the courage to say anything so you just stare back completely still, unable to see his face.

“hey doll, you miss me?” a familiar voice asks, stepping closer.

your mouth falls agape. no. no. no. no. no. this cannot be happening. you’d ended things with him MONTHS ago after he started acting out, getting angry all the time, threatening to hurt you and being literally insane. you blink ur tears away, one managing to roll down ur cheek.

“r-rafe..?” you whisper, if the house wasn’t completely silent he wouldn’t have been able to hear you.

“you’re so pretty when ur sleeping, baby.” taking a step closer to you now. you try to move backwards but ur back already pressed against the bed frame. u see him reach behind him, pulling what looks like a gun out of his back pocket.

“n-no, no please.. what are you doing?” you ask shakily, trying to back away further away from him to the other side of the bed.

he sighs, “i don’t wanna have to use this, doll,” shaking the gun in his hand to refer to it,” just listen to what i say and don’t give me a reason to hurt you, alright?”

you tremble with fear, “please, rafe, please leave.. i wont tell anyone. just please” you plead with him. praying that he’ll just go and never come back, even tho you know deep down that’s not gonna happen.

“m’sorry, no can do,” taking another step foward until he’s standing over you, ”missed you so much, can’t leave now.”

his words made your heart flutter, you couldn’t help it. you couldn’t deny the way ur thighs clenched together at the thought of him putting in all this effort just to see you. why are you like this oh my god?? no. u want him to leave. you need him to leave.

after a second of hesitation you finally ask “..what do you want, rafe?” wiping a tear from ur face.

he sits down across from you on the bed, holding the gun up to face you. ‘he’s only doing this to scare you.. he would never actually hurt you’ you try convincing yourself.

“aw come on, don’t be like that, angel” his hand grazing ur knee, before placing his large hand inbetween them to gently pull ur legs apart, “i bet ur so wet right now, so desperate f’me.” he groans nd u notice the massive buldge in his jeans.

u shake ur head, “no, rafe,” you sob again, “please go.” he brings the hand that’s holding the gun to your face, pushing the hair out of ur face with it, “sh sh, it’s okay.. ur okay. save the tears for when i’m done with you, alright?”

you don’t know if that’s reassurance or a threat but either way you feel your pussy getting wetter, his hand travelling lower until its resting on ur plush thigh.

“i need you to stay still, baby, or ur gonna get hurt.” he warns sternly before standing up and reaching for his back pocket again, pulling out a thick rope. u already know how this is gonna go.

he snatches both ur hands nd goes to tie them to the headboard. u squirm nd use ur trembling body to try and push him off, he doesn’t budge until u slap his face. his face turning back to you slowly, a hand against his jaw with a smirk.

“what did i just say? hm? ur gonna regret that, doll, makin me do things i rlly didn’t wanna do.” with a harsh grip he snatches ur wrists again, ur body squirming trying to release your arms but to no avail. when ur wrists are tied down, you whince, the pressure making you sore.

he reaches down to grip ur face and pulls you in to a desperate, hungry kiss. he hovers over you, pulling ur legs apart with his body. his tongue invading your mouth. as much as you hated this, you couldn’t help but kiss him back.

when he finally pulls away he wastes no time in ripping off ur shirt, “no bra, hm? knew you wanted this.” he groans and attaches his lips to ur tits, licking and sucking at ur nipples causing you to let out a series of faint moans.

rafe pulls away, snatching ur knees to spread your legs apart wide. eyeing you down, admiring the wet patch he’s created through ur panties. he lays on his stomach infront of you, giving ur thighs open mouth kisses.

“r-rafe, please..hmmpf” u whine. u don’t know if ur asking him to stop or if u want him to do more. ur so ashamed.

“please what, doll? use ur words cmon.” he teases ur swollen clit with his thumb, over the fabric of ur soaked panties.

when u don’t respond, his big hand slaps your pussy, causing you to let out a scream. “i said use ur fucking words” he raises his voice at you.

“p-please, eat me out,” u whimper when he rubs circles over ur clit, “need you.” that was enough to please him. so he tugs ur panties off, sliding them off ur legs and his tongue was licking a long stripe thru ur folds. “u taste so good, baby” he mumbles into you. without any warning, he inserts two fingers and thrusts mercilessly, now sucking ur puffy clit.

you let out a scream, or a moan, you didn’t know what it was but he makes you feel so so good. almost made you forget how he’s been breaking into your house and stalking you.

u tug to wrap your hands in his hair but remember ur wrists are tightly bound. he’s holding u down with one hand and fucking you with the other.

you feel yourself getting close, clenching around his fingers. u start to squirm, lifting your hips so he can get deeper but he detaches his mouth from ur clit and pulls out his drenched fingers.

“..why’d you stop?” you whimper, desperate for your release.

“youll cum when i say you can.” your eyes pleading with him but he shakes his head. “now your gonna take my cock like the filthy slut you are.” reaching for his belt nd yanking his jeans nd boxers off.

he starts teasing your folds with his cock, making you squirm even more. you know this is wrong. he’s insane. but you can’t help but enjoy his torment.

suddenly he roughly thrusts into you, without letting you adjust, pounding into you ruthlessly. the sounds of your skins clapping, his heavy grunts and your screams echo the room.

your legs unconsciously wrap around his waist. his hands grip onto your hips tightly, surely leaving bruises for you in the morning. “r-rafe, fuck, please sto-“ you screech when he goes in deeper. “fucking take it, quit complaining.” he yells before taking your tit in one hand, teasing your nipple inbetween his fingers.

he knew your body so well. you hated it. if this was anybody else you wouldn’t have been enjoying it like you are now. but it’s rafe. even when he was acting crazy in your relationship, he always made sure you knew how much he loved and cared for you. how he would do anything for you.

you can feel your release finally coming. you clench around his cock, silently begging he’ll let you cum. but to no avail, he pulls out. he unwraps your legs and sits over your chest. “open.” when you don’t comply he grabs your jaw and sticks his thumb into your mouth, “i said fucking open.” the second your lips start to part, he pushes his dick into your mouth, thrusting relentlessly making you gag around him. tears start to well in your eyes and when you try to pull your head away he latches his hand in your hair to stop you from moving. finally releasing you when you feel his cock twitch, followed by a hot flow of cum invading your throat.

he grabs onto your jaw again, giving you three light slaps to you cheek and spits in your mouth. “fucking swallow it,” hesitantly you do, opening your mouth back up and sticking out your tounge to show him.

he smirks, content with the sight in front of him. your hair disheveled, hot tears covering your cheeks and that look in your eyes, which you always had when you were around him. his sweet angel. he loved ruining you.

“rafey.. can i cum now, please? i’ve been a good girl.” you beg. the nickname making him flustered, which fortunately for him you don’t notice in the dark room.

“d’you think you deserve it?” he asks teasing to which you nod eagerly.

“please.” all your self respect and pride out the window now because you were so cockdrunk on ur psycho ex boyfriend you couldn’t think properly.

he shuffles back, spreading your legs apart again and moves his hand towards where you need him most. he begins toying with ur swollen clit before thrusting back into you. this time slower but just as deep.

you don’t hold back your moans, he makes you feel so good. but your cockdrunk haze interrupted when he started to speak again. “tell me you love me.” he groans, his eyes locking on yours. his thrusts hitting deeper, picking up the pace.

you were immediately taken aback. ofcourse you loved him, it’s rafe. but he’s crazy, god, he broke into your house and threatened you with a gun. he noticed your hesitation and starting rubbing your clit, almost sending you over the edge.

“y-yes, fuck, rafe i love you! hmmpf” you scream, your pussy clenching around him once again, his hand tightly gripping your throat. his thrusts brutal, pounding into you. you tug at the ropes bouncing your wrists when you feel pure bliss, your mind hazed and your pussy aching. his thrusts not stopping to ride out your high. you let out a loud, shaky moan/scream. the neighbours probably thought you were getting murdered. your orgasm leaves you limp, only ur legs shaking when he pulls out, yanking his boxers and pants back up.

what you’ve just done dawns over you. you’re so ashamed. you actually begged him to keep going. your tears reappear, trying to be as quiet as possible so rafe doesn’t notice and yell at you again. you wanted to kick him out, call the police and never see him again. the other part of you wanted him to hold you in his arms while you cry, and beg him never to leave your side. but right now, rafe decides for you.

he leans over to give you a sweet peck on the lips and reaches for your bound wrists. “are you gonna be good?” he whispers, eyes scanning your face for any lies. “i’ll be good, rafe. promise.” and you meant it, even tho you were choking back sobs of humiliation, you still meant it.

he untied the rope, your wrists aching and bruises already appearing. he leaves pecks all over the markings, which is his way of saying he’s sorry for hurting you. “i love you so much, y/n” he confesses, straightening back up to face you again. without even thinking, you lean forward, taking his jaw in your hands and you kiss him.

the kiss is beautiful, it wasn’t rushed or heated. it was slow and meaningful. when you finally pull away, you avoid his gaze. “i love you, rafey,” his eyes widen, he didn’t think you’d actually say it back. he knew you said it before, not because you meant it but because he basically forced you. but you did mean it. you never had stopped loving him, you were just tired of his lack of sanity.

he stands up and walks out of your room, leaving you on the bed alone without saying a word. a minute goes by, you felt so dirty and disgusting now. but before any worse thoughts could swarm your head, you hear footsteps heading towards your room. rafe is back, and hes holding a towel. oh, how you missed him.

he taps your thigh, signalling you to spread your legs and cleans up the mess you’d both made. discarding the towel, he crawls onto your bed and slides under the covers with you. “i’m really sorry, baby. i wasn’t trying to scare you. i just- i didn’t know what else to do.” his excuse was sloppy (and insane) but you still forgave him. you knew he was messed up, but so were you. in his head, he was just trying to show you how much he loved you, even tho to any normal person it’s a really creepy way to get someone back, you understood enough to let him hold you.

his arms wrapped around your waist, ur head snuggled in the warmth of his neck. “i know, rafe.. i’ll always love you.” you whispered before drifting to a heavy sleep in the comfort of his arms.

#cnc smut #drew starkey smut #drew starkey x reader #rafe cameron smut #rafe obx #rafe smut #obx smut #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #obx x reader #rafe fanfiction #yandere!rafe cameron #yandere!rafe #stalker bf #stalker yandere #doll!reader x rafe #rafe x you

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whorekneecentral · 1 year ago

Text

Only The Best For You

Kimi Raikkonen x Fem!Reader

Warnings: dad's best friend!kimi, reader is 20/21 - reader is old enough to make her own decisions, your dad isn't pleased with the gift, one mention of alcohol and one mention of death, sexual tension, kinda power imbalance, kimi gives into the intrusive thoughts, nipple play, fingering for like 0.2 seconds, one use of the word 'daddy' in a sexual way, penetrative sex (p in v), gagging, finger sucking, 'whore' used in a sexual/degrading term.

Word Count: 2,400

Author's Note: for all my dad best friend freaks and the kimi whores, this one's for you <3 -- also ignore that it's gucci in the pic but it's something different in the fic loool I couldn't find a different pic I liked.

merry smutmas series

Kimi spends the holidays with his old friends. He doesn’t forget you; bringing you exactly what you had been wishing for and you make sure to thank him.. properly.

An old L/N family tradition.

Since you were a child, your parents and grandparents allowed you to open one gift from them on Christmas eve, letting you enjoy the magic of Christmas a few hours early.

You were grown up now, in college and your grandparents had sadly passed on but your parents kept the tradition going. You had come home for Christmas break and it was Christmas Eve. Your parents have just finished dinner and you have moved to the living room.

It was yourself, your parents and your dad's best friend, Kimi. You had known Kimi your whole life practically but he was always away racing so you never saw much of him until lately, now that he's officially retired - for good this time.

"Shall we open gifts?" Your father asks, walking into the living room. He passed a glass of what looks like whiskey to Kimi, who was next to you, before sitting beside your mother.

She looks over at her husband. "Honey, isn't she too grown for that?"

Your father rolls his eyes, shaking his head. "It's a family tradition, now hush. Go pick a present."

Your mum picks first, picking one from your father that just so happened to be the new perfume she wanted. Your father was next and he picked out one from you. It's a story book he used to read to you as a kid, you had written all of your favourite memories of the two of you inside of it. You made him cry, both you and Kimi laughing about that.

"Go ahead, sweetheart." Your father nods towards the tree, you move from the couch to the floor, kneeling in front of the tree to pick out a gift.

A gift sticks out to you; red wrapping paper with little elves of it and your name written in cursive across the front of it. You pick it up, shaking it a bit to see what was in it.

It felt hard, as if it was a box. You looked towards your parents, "is it from you guys?"

Your dad looks towards your mom; she took care of all of the holiday shopping. The woman shakes her head, "it's not from us, sweetie."

The gift on your lap when you glance over your shoulder at Kimi. He gives you a small smile, so small you almost miss it.

He nods towards the gift, waiting for you to open it. You rip the wrapping paper very carefully, revealing the red box underneath; the gold lettering was cursive - Cartier.

Your jaw was already dropping, looking back at the man. "You didn't," you say and he nods again, waiting for you to open the box to see what was inside.

"Kimi, what did you do?" Your mother asks, looking over at your father. He was never one for brands or jewellery, he didn't realize that buying something there automatically was an expensive purchase.

Lifting the cover carefully, the velvet black fabric inside the box held a white gold chain, blue sapphires set along the entire thing.

If your jaw wasn't already on the floor, it would be now. "Kimi!" You turned to face the man, setting the box on the couch carefully. "You did not!"

"I did," he nods. He's always been a man of very few words; more of an action rather than words type of guy.

"What is it?" Your father asks and you hand the red box over to him for him to see.

He shows your mother as he holds the box, he doesn't realize that he's holding a little over €40,000 in his hands at the moment. "Oh Kimi, it's beautiful." Your mother gushes, handing it back over to you.

You were still on the floor, admiring the necklace in the box. "Well, turn around." Kimi says and you do, sitting just between his legs.

He reaches over to take the box from you and carefully takes the chain out of its box before you lift your hair. Kimi leans forwards and you can feel his fingers brush against your skin and his breath on your shoulders when he loops it around your neck and hooks the clasp.

"It looks gorgeous on you, darling." Your mom says, smiling at you.

Your phone's in one hand and your other hand gently touches the chain, straightening it as you admired how it looked on you. "Kimi, this is too much. It's so expensive." You whisper to him and he shrugs.

"How expensive are we talking?" Your father finally speaks, looking over at his friend.

Kimi answers nonchalantly; "Like.. €40,000."

Your father instantly sits up, his jaw hanging open. "What?! Kimi, are you out of your mind?"

"Please," he looks over at his friend in disapproval. His hand rests on your shoulder, his thumb passing over your soft skin. "She's a good girl, she deserves it."

You can't help but shift a bit when he calls you a good girl, the words hitting you right where you shouldn't. It was wrong, he was your father's friend and you were.. well, you were attracted to him. You couldn't deny it; Kimi was an attractive man and despite his lack of words, he was very charming.

"Y/n, say thank you. You can't not say it when he's spent so much." Your father tells you, and you turn around to face Kimi.

"Thank you, Kimi," you smiled at him, sitting on your knees when you reached up to give the man a hug. His arms wrapped around you, his warm hand pressed to your back. "You're welcome, angel."

Another nickname that hits you in all the wrong places.

As the night goes on, your parents head up for bed as do you. Kimi was the last one to bed from your understanding and as the house grew quiet, you tossed and turned, unable to sleep.

You find yourself sat on your bed, pjs on - a tank top and a pair of shorts with a €40,000 chain around your neck.

It was nearing 3am, the witching hours as your mum says. You find yourself getting up and heading downstairs. The initial thought was to go to the kitchen and get a glass of water but you got side tracked when you see a light coming from Kimi's room.

You knock, peeking around the space left between the door frame and the actual door. "Come in," he waves to you and you step in, shutting the doors behind you. The TV was on, a rerun of some show you couldn't quite place was on.

"What are you doing up?" He asks, glancing at his phone to check the time. "Do you know how late it is?"

"I couldn't sleep," you tell him, looking over at the TV. "Can I join you?"

He shrugs, nodding towards the empty space next to him. You quietly make your way over, sitting next to him on the bed. Kimi don't miss the way your shorts hike up when you crawl over to the empty spot; it's so wrong for him to be looking at you like that but can you blame the man? You were gorgeous and you were in his bed after all.

The two of you sit quietly, watching as the show rolls on into another episode. You unconsciously play with the chain, shifting it back and forth slowly.

Kimi looks over at you, smiling to himself; you were the picture of beauty.

"You're staring," you mumble, glancing at him. He smiles, like actually smiles. "You're beautiful."

Your cheeks are red, you hope that the light coming from the tv isn't bright enough for him to realize that just yet.

"It looks good on you," he says, "like it was made for you."

"Blue has always been my favourite colour." You smiled, glancing down at the chain. "Did you pick it yourself?"

He nods, "I saw it and thought of you, I figured you'd like it."

"I do, very much." You look over at him, Kimi smiles at you and your hand shifts from your thigh to his, rubbing along it softly. Kimi's brows furrow ever so slightly. He doesn't say anything, hoping that you'd stop if he ignores it.

You were persistent.

Your hand travels higher, about to rub over the ever so evident bulge in his shorts but Kimi catches your hand, holding your wrist. "We can't, y/n."

"Why not?"

"It's wrong," he whispers, glancing at the door - you weren't sure if he wanted you to leave or if he was catching to see if it was locked. You wiggle your hand from his grasp, Kimi lets out a small breath of relief; see, the man was stupid enough to think you were stopping.

You didn't stop. Instead, you got on his lap, straddling him with your hands on his shoulders. Kimi's hand rests on your lower back as he looks at you.

"Let me thank you properly," you whisper, lips ghosting over his.

Kimi reaches up, his lips pressed to yours but he's yet to kiss you. "You don't have too."

"I want to.. I want you," you mumbled, finally kissing the man. Your hand cupping his jaw, Kimi's hand slips under the tank top you had on and slides up your back to undo your bra but finds you don't have one on.

Kimi pushes the straps of your tank top down off your shoulders. You sat comfortably on his lap, letting him have his way with you and the man wanted one thing. He leans forward, arms wrapped around you as his lips wrap around your nipple.

“Kimi, fuck- please.” You mumble, your hand tangled in his blonde hair, tugging on it. As such as you loved the attention, you needed him.

He glances up at you, watching as your eyes fluttered shut. He groans when you pull on his hair a little harder but what's a little pain when he's making you feel good?

It was heavy, heated.

His hands on your body, pulling you over and onto him. You were perched on his lap, Kimi's hands on your ass when he kissed you again.

Not a word is spoken between the two of you and what little clothes you had on was gathered in a pile on the floor when he rolls you two over. You were flat on your back with Kimi settled between your legs.

“Please,” your hand rested on his jaw, “daddy, please.”

The pet name makes his cock twitch; it's sinful, so sinful in so many ways but he couldn't care less. You drove him mad.

His hand slips between the two of you, his fingers rubbing slow circles on your clit. Your hips lift, wanting more from him.

Kimi’s hand wandered a little lower, a finger pushed in slowly. He can feel how wet you are, wrapped around his finger and he smiles.

He moves his finger slowly, curling it. He takes pleasure in watching you, seeing how your face twists and how your body reacts to his touch.

"Please," you whimpered, "don't make me wait."

Kimi can't bring himself to say no to you.

He sits, pushing his shorts down and you get the hint, getting on top of him. Your hands grip on his shoulders, balancing yourself. Your knees on either side of his lap, Kimi's hand reaches under you to help you, the tip of his cock brushing against your clit, making your hip shift forward a bit. His free hand on your hip as you sink down onto him, his name tumbling from your lips.

You take a moment to get used to the feeling, your eyes fluttering shut as he rubs along your lower back, leaning into you to kiss down your neck.

You rock your hips forward and Kimi's head drops back, his eyes now closed. “Fuck, you’re perfect.” His hand pats your hip, “made just for me.” He tells you, your lips now on his neck - a trail of marks and sloppy kisses being left along his neck.

He pulls one of your legs up forward, pulling you down further. “Fuck,” you breathe, his thrusts faster and harder. How you wished you could scream his name right now. Kimi's hand drops between the two of you, rubbing your clit.

Your head falls back, manicured nails digging into his pale skin when he hits the spot he was looking for. He watches as you bounce on his lap, the sapphires around your neck bouncing in rhythm with you. His fingers that were previous on your clit now shoved into your mouth to muffle the sounds tumbling from your lips.

Your brows furrowed, an excited look on your face despite it all. You can feel his cock twitch in you, his lips next to your ear when he leans in.

"You've got to be quiet, angel. Wouldn't want them to catch you being a whore for me, hm?

You mumble something along an okay, your hips bucking, telling him you want more. Your tongue laps around his fingers, Kimi watches as you suck on them. There's a wicked smile on his face, his hips lifting to meet you halfway.

He lets you take over, setting the pace and using him for your own pleasure. Kimi leans forward as his lips wrap around your nipple. His tongue lapped over your nipple, biting on it softy; just enough to get you to arch your back, pushing into him.

“Come on darling,” he mumbles against your skin, now kissing up to your collarbone. Kimi's hand behind your neck to pull you down for a kiss. “Want you to cum for me.”

His arms wrap around you when you drop against him, your face buried against his shoulder, biting down to muffle the sounds. “Good girl,” he hums, rubbing your back.

Your heart beats out of your chest as you catch your breath. Kimi smiles, kissing along your shoulder. "Feel good?" He asks and you mumble something, your head resting on his shoulder.

"I take it I should spoil you more often, hm?" He chuckles, making you smile when you sit up. Kimi straightens your necklace, kissing your chin.

You shake your head and smile. "Don't have to spoil me for me to do that."

Kimi smiles at you, giving you a kiss. "Merry Christmas, y/n."

"Merry Christmas, Kimi."

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#kimi raikkonen #kimi raikkonen smut #kimi raikkonen x reader #f1 x y/n #f1 x you #f1 x reader #f1 smut #merry smutmas xoxo

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basketonthedoorstepofthefbi · 9 months ago

Note

Spencer Reid x reader, Rossi is readers father, she is not part of the BAU, Curvy and much younger than Spencer at 26, loves how smart he is and likes to learn about facts she’s just not as smart, loves baking. Smut?? Maybe?? Thank you!

comfortable (spencer reid x fem!plussize!reader)

in which you & spencer discuss telling your dad, David Rossi, about your relationship

warnings: NSFW!!! MDNI!!! smut, smol age gap, fingering, praise kink, soft!dom Spencer, pet names

word count: 3658

A/N: thanks for this request 🥹 it was really fun and I think maybe a pt 2 where they actually tell Rossi could be a lot of fun, can you imagine the way Rossi’s eyes would bug out of his head 💀

He was standing in the doorway of your off-campus apartment with this goofy grin on his face. He was older than you - only by a few years, but still in an entirely different stage of life - and he worked with your dad, but you’d never felt butterflies like these before.

It felt like movie love. Like romance novel love, and not those cheesy paperbacks with the Fabio-type model on the front. But like the more modern ones, the ones with the cartoon people on the covers and the big, colorful block letters. You had about a hundred of them on your bookcase. You could go reference them right now if you really wanted to.

Spencer Reid blinked those big, brown eyes at you and your mouth flickered uncontrollably into a soft smile. “Your doorbell doesn’t work,” Spencer pointed out by way of greeting. He still had that goofy grin on his face as you stepped aside so he could come in. You locked the door behind him.

“Didn’t I tell you that?” You mused, turning around to face him. He’d been to your apartment before, but usually trailing after you. Never meeting you here. He shook his head.

Then he lifted the bouquet of flowers in his hands and your smile grew into a full-blown grin. “What’re these for?” You squealed, taking the bouquet and immediately raising them to your nose. Baby pink carnations. He remembered your favorite flower.

He remembered everything, you reminded yourself.

“They’re your favorites. You said they reminded you of your mom’s house,” Spencer said, then took one of those sharp breaths that told you he was about to bequeath upon you a boatload of information. You barely had time to swoon over the fact that he remembered why carnations were your favorite.

“Did you know that carnations were actually mentioned in literature as far back as Ancient Greece? The name is believed to come from the Latin corona - meaning crown or wreath, as it was one of the more common flowers used to make laurels and crowns,” Spencer rattled off.

“We should make flower crowns out of them,” you proposed with an excited giggle, walking past Spencer and into the small kitchen of your apartment. He chuckled and followed you, standing behind you as you took the plastic sleeve off the bouquet, holding the flowers over the sink so water wouldn’t get on the floor. “Oh,” you murmured, not realizing how thick the stalks of the flowers were. “We can’t tie these together,” you pouted.

Spencer’s hands found your hips as he stood behind you, his palms contouring to match your curves. His lips met the side of your head, between your temple and your hairline. “You could put them on your table?” He suggested.

You felt stuck with the dripping flowers in your hand and the overwhelming desire to turn around and kiss your boyfriend silly. “Vase,” you blurted out instead of speaking like a normal human being. Spencer made your brain turn into mush.

“Where?”

“Shelf by the fridge.”

Spencer’s hands left your hips, but not before he gave them a gentle squeeze, as if to say I’ll be back soon. You turned your head to the side and watched as Spencer grabbed the vase off the shelf, returning to your side in moments to help you set the flowers in it.

This relationship was still very new. It had been about three months since you went out to lunch with your dad on some random Thursday, and he brought you back to work with him to introduce you to his team. It had been eight weeks since Spencer took you out for the first time - dinner and a walk around the nearest park, where Spencer had grabbed your hand for the first time, where he’d rambled off some fact about willow trees you couldn’t be bothered to remember because shortly after, he’d pressed his lips to yours and you’d made out underneath one.

He was away a lot, which was to be expected, given the nature of the BAU’s work. But he called you when he could, and he made every effort to see you when they weren’t on assignment. You couldn’t really talk with him about work - “it’s classified,” he’d always say with a thin-lipped smile, as if to say he’d really like to tell you, but he just couldn’t.

“What’re you thinking about?” Spencer asked as you floated from the sink to set the vase of flowers on the kitchen table. His voice always pulled you out of your own head.

“Nothing in particular, really,” you told him, turning to face him. Spencer reached a hand out and took yours, tugging you to him. “You, mostly,” you teased as his palms lay against your hips. “I think it might be time.”

“Time?” Spencer asked as he craned his neck down to kiss you, briefly, on the lips. So, his mind was obviously elsewhere.

“Time,” you confirmed. “To tell my dad. About us.”

Spencer pulled his head back so he could look at you properly, his fingers dug into the soft, sensitive flab above your hip bones, and you scrunched your nose up because it tickled, resisting the urge to giggle. “You do, do you?” He asked, a playful smile crossing his lips. “And here I thought you enjoyed the secrecy.”

“No, as a matter of fact, I hate it,” you laughed breathily. “I hate lying to my dad.”

“For the record, we haven’t lied about anything,” Spencer pointed out. “We’ve just withheld information. It’s entirely different.”

That was true, you supposed. When your dad asked you last week at your monthly dinner at his house if you were seeing anyone, you just nodded and told him you weren’t ready to tell him about it yet, and he respected that. You didn’t not tell him it was his coworker.

“I guess so,” you replied, your lips pursing into the corner of your mouth.

To Spencer’s credit, the whole keeping-it-from-your-dad thing was your idea. You’d done it for a multitude of reasons - mostly so you could figure out if this thing with Spencer was going to go anywhere before your dad was in the loop, so you could go with Spencer at your own pace, get to know him without any third-party interventions.

“We’ve talked about this, Y/N. It’s not anything to feel guilty about. Yeah?” Spencer reminded you, lifting one of his hands from your hips to curl his index finger and tuck it under your chin. He guided your gaze to meet his. “You’re an adult, and you can see whoever you want to see. When and if you tell Rossi is entirely up to you.”

“I know,” you nodded, sighing softly, your arms lifting and reaching up to wind around his neck. Spencer’s lips broke out in a soft smile at the action. “Isn’t it weird for you at work, though?”

“Not really?” Spencer phrased it as a question, shrugging his shoulders a little bit. “There’s never really time for personal conversation when we’re on a case, and if there is, I usually just deflect to someone else. Although, there was a close call while we were on our way back this last time,” he began, the hand under your chin dropping and moving back to your hip, guiding you back so you were flush against the kitchen counter.

“Oh, god, what happened?” You asked as you hopped up so your rear splayed out atop the counter, and Spencer moved to stand between your legs. Despite the lack of gap between your thighs, Spencer’s lanky frame fit comfortably between them. His fingers spread palm-side down against the tops of your thighs. You were biting your lip as your boyfriend continued with his story.

“I guess I was grinning down at a text you’d sent me, the one about your Short Fiction Analysis exam,” he explained, referring to one of the classes you were taking this term. “You’d said you thought Shirley Jackson was underrated, that The Lottery was one of your favorite short stories ever and you would stone anyone who disagreed,” you snickered at this, and Spencer’s hands slid just slightly further up your thighs. “That was the same reaction I had,” Spencer pointed out with a small laugh. “And Rossi’d been the one to catch it. He said that my expression was one that could only be caused by a beautiful woman.”

You shook your head, rolling your eyes. That sounded like your dad, all right. “And what did you say?” You asked, willing the blush in your cheeks to go away. Spencer knew already that he made you feel like you were on fire with just a simple touch, but still. Your lack of experience and the fact that you were younger than him, still in college… it always made you feel even more flustered.

“I said I could neither confirm nor deny,” Spencer laughed self-deprecatingly, rolling his eyes at himself. “And then I changed the subject. I pulled Derek in the conversation and asked him about his girlfriend.”

“Very strategic,” you commented with a bob of your throat.

“But if you want to tell him, and you think you’re ready, then I think we should,” Spencer added, and you smiled just slightly at this.

“Okay,” you smiled hazily, just as Spencer bent down to kiss you. His hands traveled to the waistband of your sweatpants and your breath hitched in your throat.

“This okay?” Spencer asked just as his long fingers curled around the waistband on either side of your hips.

You’d pulled the sweatpants all the way up over your belly button, and your tummy was incredibly ticklish. So your voice was breathy and shaky when you responded. “Mmhm.”

“If it’s not, you need to tell me,” Spencer reminded you in a low whisper, his lips planting along kissing your neck, each one tacky like a postage stamp.

“It’s okay,” you reiterated, forcing your voice to sound more full. Your hands had moved to lay flat against his chest, but now your fingers curled around the crinkly fabric of his blue dress shirt. You’d never dated anyone who dressed so grown up before. “I’m good.”

“Good,” Spencer murmured as his lips traveled up to your chin. He was mapping out your entire jawline with his lips, until finally your mouths met. He was slow and intentional at first, like he was savoring it, probably making observatory notes in his head. When his tongue teased your lips apart, you allowed him in, a small whimper escaping you.

You had scooted forward on the countertop, squeezing Spencer’s body between your thighs. Your toes curled as one of Spencer’s hands lifted to cradle the back of your head, holding your face to his like an oxygen mask. And he kept breathing you in, his tongue expertly dancing with yours, kissing you so that when he finally pulled back, you couldn’t breathe.

You were panting, your whole face red as Spencer’s hand moved from the back of your head to one of your full cheeks. His thumb swiped across your cheek and the corners of his mouth just flickered upward. “I really missed you,” he whispered, his hand moving to tuck your hair behind your ear. His other hand still rested on the waistband of your pants, fingers dipping beneath it and padding around your stretch marks.

“I missed you, too,” you murmured back, and Spencer just smiled at this lazily. “Do you… do you want to…”

Spencer’s smile slowly turned into a patient smirk. “Do I want to what?” He asked all-knowingly, his eyes meeting yours. Your cheeks flushed again, bashful and embarrassed to even ask him.

“Do you want to go to my bed?” You exhaled, and Spencer’s head dipped to press a brief kiss to your lips.

“What makes you think I can’t take care of you right here?” He smirked, and the hand on your cheek floated back down to your waistband. “Can I please take your sweatpants off, pretty girl?”

Your breath stopped and you nodded. “Yeah, but… Spence?” You pressed the pads of your fingers into his chest. His gorgeous brown eyes met yours.

“What is it?”

“If you’re going to, like, you know, right here,” you began, your chest rising and falling slowly. “I just don’t think I can, like, spread my legs apart enough for you to…”

“Would you be more comfortable lying down, Y/N?” Spencer asked. What you loved was that he wasn’t impatient about it, he wasn’t annoyed. He could just tell you were having trouble articulating your concerns and he wanted to help. He was reading your mind - well, scientifically speaking, he was probably reading your behavior and your body language - but he just got it so quick.

“Yeah,” you nodded, sighing softly in relief that he understood.

“Then let’s lie you down,” Spencer agreed. He kissed you once more, briefly, stepped back, holding his hands out to help you off the counter. Your knees were weak for multiple reasons as you wobbled towards your bedroom, letting Spencer guide you so you were flat on your back, looking up at him. “Is that better?”

“Yeah,” you exhaled as Spencer hovered over you. One knee outside your leg, the other very much in between them, his hands gripping your shoulders. Spencer craned down to kiss you again, as if a car had been jump started, and you were once again lost in it, unable to think about anything else but the man on top of you and how much you loved the way he touched you.

He wasn’t afraid of your body or how you’d react - rather, he seemed to find arousal in you being comfortable. His hands moved down to your waistband once again, obviously his fixation for the day, and he asked you again if it was okay that he remove your pants. You just nodded and told him, “yes.”

Even though the word had come out softly and raspy, in the back of your mind, you were screaming for the love of god, yes. If you stop touching me, I might commit heinous crimes.

Soon your pants were off, with some strategic shimmying over your hips and thighs, and you watched with a slightly amused expression as Spencer tossed them aside carelessly. He never did anything carelessly, so the action was a nice ego boost, knowing you could cause his system to glitch just as much as he could yours.

Spencer’s hands went back to your hips, sliding under the bottom hem of your t-shirt, inching closer to your breasts as your pelvis lifted, searching desperately for any kind of friction, your center making contact with Spencer’s knee between your legs. He dug his knee in a little further, your underpants acting as a thin divider.

“Can I take your shirt off, beautiful?” Spencer asked, and all the nerve endings in your face went numb.

“When are you gonna lose some clothes, pal?” You asked breathlessly, taken aback by your own sassiness. Spencer was too, but he laughed, a brimful sound that would have knocked you over if you weren’t already lying down.

Spencer’s laugh still lined his voice as he looked down at you. “I guess it’s only fair,” he chuckled. “Which would you-“

“Shirt,” you tugged at his collar pathetically, your fingers shaking as you tried to undo the buttons.

That stupid smirk rose on his face and Spencer kissed your nose teasingly before he took his hands in yours. “Need me to get those for you?” He asked, and you nodded. Deftly, his fingers worked the buttons until the shirt was shrugging off his shoulders. You watched with your mouth hung ajar like a garden gate.

He knew exactly what he was doing.

Spencer bent down at his waist again to continue his cartographic exploration of your neck and jaw, his kisses feather light and so, so frustrating. His hands slid up your shirt again, gliding smoothly over your supple skin, his fingertips tracing your stretch marks. “Now that we’re on a level playing field,” Spencer said between kisses. “Can I please take off your shirt?”

A sound escaped you, a combination of breathy laughter and a desperate whine. “Yeah,” you murmured. Your hands moved to run through his perfect hair. It was so soft, so clean. How did he have time to keep it so clean? Your fingertips dug at his scalp as Spencer’s knee dug once again into the space between your legs. You groaned as Spencer guided you to lift your torso so your t-shirt could be tugged off over your head.

“You’re so beautiful,” he commented, and you felt your cheeks redden. He kissed your lips, his swollen and plump against yours as his hands traveled down. He swung the knee that was in between your legs over so that he fully straddled you now. He seemed to want to be everywhere - your breasts, your stomach, your lips, between your legs. It was like he couldn’t decide.

“What do you want, Spence?” You asked him, and Spencer’s eyes snapped to yours. Your tongue jutted out to moisten your lips.

“What do I want?” Spencer repeated, looking at you with an incredulous expression. “I want to make you feel good, angel. Do you want me to do that for you? Do you want me to make you feel good?”

“God. Yes.” You huffed. Spencer’s mouth was on yours in an instant, kissing you repeatedly as his hand traveled down. Hovering over your underwear, Spencer’s thumb pressed against your fabric-covered center and you felt him groan, the sound reverberating through your mouth.

“You’re so wet, Y/N,” he observed and your back arched instinctively, needing him.

“Spence,” you rasped.

“Say it again,” Spencer’s eyes met yours and his brow arched just as you felt him dip his index and middle fingers beneath the waistband of your underwear.

“Please, Spencer,” you managed to get out.

“That’s it,” he smirked, kissing your lips once as a reward before sliding your underpants down your thighs. You lifted your legs and he helped you out of them, tossing them aside like they were just collateral damage. His index finger was quick to tease at your folds, and you wondered if he had been thinking about this all day. “Open your legs a little bit more for me, angel,” he instructed.

You succumbed to his request almost instantly, and when Spencer’s finger rubbed against your clit, you had to bite back a moan. “What have I told you about holding back?” Spencer chastised you, and your eyes locked onto his. “I told you, don’t ever muffle yourself, baby. I want to hear every noise.”

“Spencer…”

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No. Don’t you dare.”

“That’s my girl,” Spencer smirked, and began to pump his two fingers into you. Your legs began to close on instinct, but Spencer’s other hand pushed your hair out of your eyes. “Keep ‘em open, beautiful,” he said patiently, his fingers increasing exponentially in speed. “You hear how wet you are?”

“Mmm,” was all you could say as the filthy, wet sounds emitted from your middle.

“And that’s all for me, isn’t it, sweetheart?”

“Yeah,” you choked out as your hips bucked towards his fingers.

Spencer’s fingers were relentless as he fucked you with them. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head, your vision going white and hazy from the pleasure, from your walls tightening around Spencer’s incredibly deft digits.

“You’re doing so good, baby. Just hang on a little longer, yeah?” Spencer cooed, his voice genuinely, tooth-achingly sweet, and you felt his lips beneath your ear. He kissed the skin there, and you felt him move his lips up to your earlobe, taking it briefly between his teeth. “You’re doing so good, baby,” he reiterated in a low whisper.

Your hands clawed desperately against his bare back for some iota of purchase, moving from his back to his hair, to his neck as he fucked you senseless. You were getting so close, whiny, needy little whimpers escaping you as Spencer continued to pump into you. And finally - finally - you reached your peak. Spencer didn’t let up, letting you ride your orgasm for as long as you could. Stars blurred your vision, and all you could see were those dark brown eyes looking so lovingly down at you.

And when you finally started to come down, Spencer’s movements slowed. He was never the type to immediately pull out. No, he merely turned down the intensity as you caught your breath, rubbing your clit gently as his fingers - soaked with you - slowly came out of you.

“How do you feel?” he asked as you panted, your eyes meeting his.

You opened your mouth to say something - anything, but no words came out. “Baby, use your words,” Spencer encouraged, and you huffed, frustrated with yourself, that you couldn’t say much of anything right now.

“G-good,” you whispered with a hoarse voice. Spencer used his clean hand to brush your hair out of your face. “Very good,” you added.

“Very descriptive,” Spencer teased with a smirk, and you were too ravished to play back.

You managed to prop yourself up on to your elbows just as Spencer moved off of you, laying down on his side so he could kiss your neck soothingly. “Y/N?” He asked.

“Yeah?” you breathed, turning so you were on your side, so you could face him.

“I’m in love with you,” he whispered, and your eyes widened. You thought for a second he might be playing some sick joke, but then you looked in his eyes and saw how clear, how serious they were. Your lips flickered into a small, tired yet ridiculously happy smile. “You don’t have to say it back if you-“

“I love you, too,” you whispered, your lips meeting his in a long, slow, lazy kiss, feeling deliriously, stupidly happy.

——

A/N 2: I’ve never actually written smut before (I’ve read plenty lmfao) so if something is weird OR if you have any suggestions plzzzzz tell me I can take constructive criticism on this front xD

#spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #basketonthedoorstepofthefbi #criminal minds spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x plus size reader #plus size reader #asks

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cellophanejpeg · 3 months ago

Text

hold me down (and make me scream) | s. hanta

s: Sero wants to explore his quirk in bed. Or: the one he convices you to let him tied you up and use you however he wants.

w: bondage, kinky shit, use of vibrators, overstimulation, smut, sero is the king of aftercare, this is my kinkiest yet lol

n: hehe, tape quirk comes in handy. betaread by @jemifis ❤️ read on ao3

previous | next | start here

There's a package waiting for you on your door when you get home. Usually, you'd be suspicious of something like that. Being a well-known pro-hero has its disadvantages, such as people who don't like you and that would do anything so you disappear. However, it intrigues you.

The box has your name and your address on it, and it's from Amazon. You try to remember if you ordered something and forgot about it, but nothing comes to mind. You quickly pick it up, enter your apartment and go to the kitchen to get some scissors to open it up.

There's another box inside, covered in silver wrapping, the standard Amazon one. So someone bought you a gift from the site. Not a big deal. Impatient, you tear the paper and quickly open the box.

The contents of the box make your eyes widen in shock, a gasp leaving your lips as you cover your mouth in disbelief. Inside, there are several different vibrators of assorted colors and types. Your first thought is that some internet troll had pulled a prank on you, but then again, how did they get your personal address? Fanmail and letters are always sent to the hero agency you work at – not that you get many, anyway.

A card in the box catches your eye and, curious, you flip it over to read it:

Remember your promise, angel. – S.

Immediately, you grab your phone and look for Sero’s contact.

“Hey, angel–” he picks up after three rings.

“Hanta, what the fuck?!” you interrupt him, and he just laughs. You can practically picture his stupid grin as the sound comes through the receiver.

“So you got my little gift.”

“Little is an understatement.”

He scoffs, “Just thought we could have some fun tonight. You, me, some toys, and…”

“And?”

“Some tape.”

You pause, and Sero can practically hear the gears turning inside your head.

Truth is, he never actually thought about tape bondage until he was guts deep inside you, making you promise you'd let him do it. And he wasn't going to insist on the subject, but the more he thought about it, the more he wanted to try it. This agreement between you and him has only been about you – with the exception of that one time you went down on him –, so is it wrong for him to have a little fun?

“You mean…?” You trail off, unable to even voice it.

“Yeah.” You can hear him breathe out through the receiver. He really wants this, doesn't he?

You've never given it any thought, but the image of you tied up as he does whatever he wants with you… It kinda turns you on. Knowing he'd never hurt you, you don't see why not.

Sensing your hesitation, Sero speaks before you can answer,

“Why don't you test some toys first? Then let me know.”

“A-alright,” you reply, after another moment of silence.

“You should try the rose one. Mina said it was the best one.”

“You told Mina Ashido about this?!”

“Relax!” He laughs. “I just asked about some toys, didn't mention you at all.”

“Gosh, you're so embarrassing.” You roll your eyes, but also laugh with him.

…

“Is it too tight?” Sero murmurs in your ear as he wipes a drop of sweat from your forehead.

You’re laying down on the bed, legs spread wide, and ankles tied to your thighs, while your hands are secured together on the bedpost above you. You feel so vulnerable, so helpless, and it turns you on how he’s the only one who sees you like this.

“Hanta…” you whine, sweat dripping down your temples.

Turns out Sero was right – not that you’ll ever admit it to him –, the toys were amazing. It didn’t take long for you to agree to his proposal, but you did make him work for it. You were already convinced when he tried to talk you into it, showing positions you’d might like and ways to make you come while tied up. When you said yes, he let you choose the position you liked the most and that’s where you are right now.

The tape digs a little on your skin, but it doesn’t hurt as much as being denied yet another orgasm. You think your best friend is a little sadist, with the way he presses the vibrator with just enough pressure to drive you crazy. He also knows you a little too well, now that you think about it. You don’t even have to tell him you’re about to come, he just knows. He just won't let you.

“Yes, Angel?” he grins maliciously, swiping his thumb on your sensitive clit. You whimper, closing your eyes and throwing your head back on the pillow.

“Please…”

“Please what, baby?” Sero pushes two fingers inside you. You're so wet that they slide in easily, making embarrassing sounds.

“Please,” you whine again, breathing heavily.

“Use your words.” He teases, pressing the vibrator against you again. You groan, toes curling tightly, hands closed in fists so tight you almost draw blood from the palms of your hands.

It just feels so good when he's curling his fingers inside you, hitting that spot you'd never thought it was reachable with just his fingers. And when the vibrator puts pressure on your clit, it's heaven.

If only he'd let you have your orgasm.

“Please let me come,” you finally plead, once he denies you again, “please, please, please let me come, Hanta, I'd do anything!”

Sero laughs, pulling his fingers out of you and setting the vibrator’s intensity up,

“What's our safe word again?” He asks, taking his time to walk around the bed until he lies beside you, leaning his head on his hand, supported by his elbow.

“T-tape dispenser.”

“Good girl.”

Sero then presses the toy once more against your clit, applying more pressure this time. A moan escapes your lips as your legs tremble; you feel another orgasm building in your lower stomach, but this time, Sero doesn't immediately remove the vibrator from you. He lets you come, watching as you roll your eyes back, and let you an almost guttural whine.

You don't come off your high, because he pressed the toy even further against you, having you twitch and tremble as yet another orgasm rushes through you, with no warning.

“H-Hanta–” you try to speak, but the way the vibrations send sparkles throughout your entire body has you losing your breath.

“You wanted to cum, didn't you?” he says, leaning towards you to lick a stray tear that slips down your temple. Then, he whispers in your ear, “use the safe word, if it's too much.”

You think you black out for a second between your third and forth orgasm, the safe word on the tip of your tongue, but you endure it. You want to believe you can take it, but the tears streaming down your face tell otherwise.

“Can you take one more, angel?” Sero coos in your ear, using his free hand to pet your head. You nod as you feel another wave of pleasure building inside you.

It takes everything in you to hold it in, but you eventually let go and then everything goes black for a moment.

“You okay?” he asks, turning the vibrator off and using the nail of his index finger to rip the tape bonding your hands.

You murmur something even you don’t understand while Sero grabs a bottle of massage oil to remove the tapes off you. Maybe you black out, because next thing you know, you’re being carried in his arms and gently being lowered down to a bathtub filled with warm water. You hum, leaning your back on his chest when he slips in the tub behind you.

For a moment, you both soak in silence. Sero hugs your torso, rubbing his thumbs on the skin of your waist, and leans his chin on your shoulder, nuzzling his nose on your hair. Slowly, you come down from your high and recover your senses.

“I don’t think I’ll ever come again,” you break the silence, making him laugh.

“Only one way to find out.” He slips his hand down, with the intention of touching your clit again, but you slap him away.

“Not right now!” You cry out, as he laughs louder.

“How did you like it?”

“It was fun. Maybe a bit too much,” you admit, “but I liked it.”

“Next time, don’t be afraid to use the safe word.”

You pull away to look at him, “you seem oddly experienced at this.”

Sero gives you one of his shit eating grins, but you can see a faint shade of pink on his cheekbones. “I did my homework.”

You hum, leaning onto him again and sighing. The silence takes over again and with it comes the overthinking.

“We’re still friends, right?” You say, before you can stop yourself.

“Why wouldn’t we be?” His voice sounds sleepy now.

You shrug. “‘Cause we’re doing all this crazy shit.”

“We can have sex and still be friends, right?”

Can you? Can you keep doing this knowing he doesn’t feel the same as you? Is it really just sex when every time you’re with him, you feel like heaven?

“Yeah, sure,” you reply, swallowing down all these questions.

Because you don’t think you’ll like the answers.

@lousypotatoes @ibby-miyoshi-nerd

#sero hanta x reader #hanta sero x reader #sero x reader #sero smut #sero hanta smut #bnha x reader #my hero academia x reader #bnha smut #mha smut #gabiwrites.txt

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totaly-obsessed · 7 months ago

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Goals and Glitter

Alexia Putellas x reader

-> Alexia comes in to teach a class for Alba and her co-worker

-> Happy early birthday to @wosoamazing!

-> Word Count: 3.100

➳ Masterlist

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

“Alba have you seen my - Oh.”

Stunned Alexia stood still in her sister's living room. She had just given herself entry to Alba’s house, trying to find one of her favorite dresses that she couldn’t find since the last time that her sister had visited her.

But she hadn’t exactly expected her sister to have someone over. This wasn’t the first time that the footballer had barged in on Alba’s situation-ships, but this looked quite different than she was used to.

Papers were scattered all around the room, and she had nearly stepped into an open glue stick that was just left on the ground. Alba was sitting on the floor, as close to the coffee table as humanly possible, covered in glitter and paper scraps.

But she wasn’t alone. Next to her, just as messy as her sister were you. Eyes wide in surprise at the blonde who had just loudly made an entrance to the room that had previously been filled with excited chatter, just the music was playing in the background.

“Hello.”

Alba couldn’t help but laugh at her sister, who had always been awkward when she was confronted with unusual or unsuspected situations.

“Hi.”-

Dear God, You weren’t any better either.

The soft music kept playing in the background until Alba couldn’t take it any longer. “Alexia, this is y/n, the teacher I am sharing my class with this year, you know the one I already told you about? y/n, this is Alexia, my older sister, she’s a weirdo who doesn’t respect my privacy. Or closed doors.”

The room plunged into awkward silence while Alexia and you stared at each other, Alba taking a figurative step back, watching the two of you, like it was a tennis match, even though nothing was happening.

“Do - Do you want to join us? We’re trying to make the next PE lessons for the kids.” The blonde still just stood there, frozen in the door as you looked at her, a hopeful glint in your eyes.

“It’s football.”

Well if you would have said that first, the footballer would have already said yes yesterday, but it had been Alba, who knew how to get her sister back to earth. “We’re trying to explain the rules to the kids.” As if to underline your co-workers, and friends, statements, you held up a hot-pink flashcard, with ‘Goal kick’ in fancy letters at the top and a definition beneath that.

“A type of restart where the ball is kicked from inside the goal area; awarded to the defending team when a ball that crossed the goal line was last touched by a player on the attacking team.”

The midfielder's eyebrows went up with hesitation. “You’re gonna use that, to explain to seven-year-olds?”

Alba’s head snapped up, ready to pounce on the opportunity. “Well we’re not the pros, you are! So what do you think? Could re-work the cards and come into class to teach the kids first hand!”

The footballer seemed to consider, eyebrows still furrowed as she looked at one of the other flashcards. “Well you could use some help, that’s for sure.”

“Great! You have time tomorrow, and so does y/n. Same time, at your place!” Alba didn’t give her sister time to protest, instead stacking all her already-made cards together before shoving them into Alexia's hands.

“I’ll send you her number, we need to go now!” And with that the young teacher pulled you up by your hand, dragging you out of the door, leaving Alexia behind, who was still frozen in place, now all alone in a house that wasn’t hers.

Why was she here again?

—

The following day Alexia was pacing in her living room, a simple rule book on her coffee table, anxiously waiting for you to arrive. Alba had indeed given her your number, leaving it up to the blonde to contact you. And she did, with a timid “Hey, it’s Alexia! Here’s my address, does the time still work for you?”

Your much more cheerful response had been very much welcomed by the footballer, who for some reason, unbeknownst to her, couldn’t stop smiling at a silly picture of you and Alba that you had set as your profile picture.

While she had been waiting for you to come, the actual sound of the doorbell startled her to no end, before hurrying towards it, hearing Narla bark quietly, somewhere else in her house.

“Hi Ale!”

A shy smile was on the midfielders as she opened the door further, gesturing for you to come in. While she was closing the door, you had already taken off your shoes, placing them neatly on the ground.

“Oh you could have just kept them on, no need to have cold -” Just at that moment you pulled out a pair of fluffy slippers out of your massive handbag and put them on, “-feet.”

“My Mama would kill me if she knew I was wearing shoes in such a lovely house Ale.”

The blonde could hear her own mother scolding her for entering her childhood home with dirty sneakers over and over again. But Alexia had always been in a hurry, even as a child. Scarfing down dinner so that she could go out and play football with her friends, not even changing her clothes. “You brought slippers.”

“Mhmm, I did! I always have them on me, never know when your feet start hurting.”

And in that moment Alexia knew that Eli would love you.

The Spaniard leads you through a gorgeous hallway into an even prettier living room. It was light and warm. It felt familiar and in many places, you could see a little bit of your best friend Alba shine through. She definitely chose that pink fluffy blanket for when she came over, and the amount of pictures on the walls truly showed how much Alexia loved her family and friends, sometimes she wasn’t even in them.

“Don’t be mad, but I got rid of your flashcards.” She looked at you in anticipation, after all, she had gotten rid of your and Alba’s work, and she knew how her sister would react if she had been here. “Oh, no worries! You know the game best at the end of the day!”

Well, that had gone over much better than expected.

“Would you like a coffee?”

“That would be lovely Ale, thank you so much!”

In the kitchen, she could take a couple of deep breaths. Why was she so nervous? The only thing she’s supposed to do is help you with your class, help them learn about football - her life. But now with you sitting there on her couch, the prettiest smile and pink fluffy slippers she could feel herself melting like vapor in the sun.

“Oh hello!”

Your voice was an entire octave higher than before, as you greeted someone. Shit, she forgot about Nala. A tray of coffee, milk, and sugar was thrown together as quickly as the blonde could before she hurried back to the living room, fearing how her small, but feisty dog was attacking you.

“You’re such a good girl!”

Much to Alexia’s surprise Nala was on the couch, laying in your lap, letting you pet her stomach. The dog was writhing back and forth with happy little yips, looking at you offended once you stopped, nudging your hand with her nose so that you would continue.

“Oh, sorry! Is she not allowed on the couch?”

Alexia was still standing there, tray in hand and had not moved an inch. Seems to be a common theme once you are around. What was up with her? You’re just meeting so she can tell you about football. No other reason.

“No! Uhmm, Nala’s fine, don’t worry. She just doesn’t like new people. Well, usually.”

With a shrug, you gestured for her to sit down, as she was still standing there. The sun hit her back perfectly, bathing her in a glowy afternoon sun. She was the most stunning person you had ever seen, an incredible physique with an even better smile, and an awkward personality upon first meeting, that you just had to love.

There wasn’t much planning done, the blonde reassuring you that she would take care of it after deciding on a date, where (coincidentally of course) Alba wasn’t there. Most of the time together was spent drinking coffee and chatting about the most random things like Alexia’s dog lead collection and your incredibly large caffeine consumption. The blonde didn’t want to agree, that it was very on-brand for a teacher to drink a lot of coffee and energy drinks, insisting that it was very unhealthy and her coaches and trainers would have her head. Alexia loved watching you laugh, saying the weirdest things that she knew would make you laugh, talking a lot about Alba and Nala, hoping that you would never stop.

“I think I should get going now, it’s already getting dark. Thank you so much for having me Ale, and I will see you on Friday! Let me know if something comes up?” Alexia was adamant that there was nothing in this world that could make her forget, or come in between their agreed on date.

—

You had warmed your students up to Alexia coming, reminding them again and again to be calm not yell too much, and to listen to your guest. So when Friday arrived the kids knew what was coming. You had cleared the rest of the day, pushing the lessons back and cutting out what wasn’t needed just so your new ‘friend’ would be in no time rush.

When there was a timid knock at the door the kids straightened up in their seats, excited to meet the woman that you had been talking so much about and to finally see her in person. After introducing the idea of Alexia coming into your students, a few girls squealed in excitement - telling you all about how big fans they were, and that they watched her play on TV.

“¡Hola clase!”

The footballer was met with a silent classroom as came in, but she could see the jitters and bouncing legs of the students as they looked at her with wide-open eyes.

"What did we practice yesterday, class?” the students jumped up from their seats, standing in the walkways “¡Buenos días Alexia!”. Well, that wasn’t what you had practiced. The older teachers make the students stand behind their chairs and greet them in a choir, it seems like their brains defaulted back to what they know instead of just staying seated like they usually do in your and Alba’s classes.

“Good job you guys! Right, so let’s all grab our gym bags and then we’ll make our way to the gym. Remember to find your buddy in two rows please!”

Alexia was stunned, watching you talk to twenty kids like it was nothing, floating back and forth, making sure all kids were accounted for and had their change of clothes.

“¡Hola Ale! Thank you so much for coming, the Kids are so excited!” And so were you. Not that you would ever say it but you had called Alba in a hurry, asking her what to wear and what to bring for food, insisting on bringing something for her sister

The younger Putellas was greatly amused, telling their mother all about the mutual forming crushes between you and her sister. You had met Eli at a summer festivity last year, where you and Alba had decided to take on a class together, and it was safe to say that the women loved you. Just like her daughters, she had been enamored with your smile and friendly personality. Hearing that Alexia had taken a liking to you, filled her with joy. A perfect fit.

“Thank you for having me, I am also really excited to meet them!” Those kids meant the world to you, and she could see it. Your hand was clutching her forearm before shoving a lunchbox into her bag. “Would you mind walking in the back? So that no one gets lost? I still get a bit anxious about making the trip.”

The footballer was much more on the calmer side, watching as you counted the kids again and again. “Don’t worry, no one will get lost on our watch, we’ve got this. Hmm?” With a gentle squeeze of your hand, she let go, making her way to the back of the line, immediately helping one of the shorter girls to put on her jacket.

Ben, a very anxious little guy, was already at the front of the line waiting to hold your hand like he usually did when the class left the room. “Let’s go then!”

You led the kids to the changing rooms before taking Alexia to one of the teacher's rooms. “Uhm, you can change here if you want to. I’ll look for another one!” Before you can close the door a warm hand closes around your wrist. “We can both change here if that’s alright with you. It's a big room.”

Alexia could see your nervousness as you turned around. “I won’t look, promise.” With a deep sigh, you decided to give in. Finding another unoccupied room would take too long and it was a part of the job, right? She probably changed in front of 10 people daily. But you were not a footballer that worked out three times a day.

There was a smug smile on Alexia’s face after she caught you staring at her abs in the mirror. “Hard work and dedication.” You could feel the heat shoot into your face as you looked away ashamed. She looked good and she knew it. The blonde was quite happy that you didn’t catch her staring at you. After all, she had a persona to fulfill. “Come on, let’s go!”

Even though she didn’t know where she was going, Alexia led you out of the room in the direction of shouting children. “Is it a possibility to go outside with the kids?” Sure she could do the exercises indoors, but most football was played outdoors and the weather was ideal for it. “Yeah, we have a small pitch just behind the gym.”

The kids were happy to hear you would go out, running in front of Alexia and you, who hand back to chat, in no need to hurry. But Ben was now glued to Alexia's hand, which felt very different in comparison to yours.

“Are you married to our teacher Miss Alexia?”

His endearing little voice sliced through the comfortable silence that took over after talking about your guy's plan. Ale couldn’t help but laugh at his innocent question and the way you seemed to find the floor incredibly interesting. “No, I’m not!”

The little boy let go of his new hero's hand and started running to his classmates, “That’s really sad!”, and then he was off.

“Well, he is certainly a character.” The blonde's arm brushed against yours, sending tingles all through your body. “Usually he’s quite shy. Sorry, I didn’t think he’d say that.” The smile was back on Alexia's face, “Oh don’t you worry.” Your head whipped up, questioning her statement as she continued to look ahead with a perfect poker face.

On the field, which admittedly could have been mowed before going there, the kids sat down, not caring that their clothes got dirty as Alexia stood in front of them, a book in her hands

“Hello everyone! I’m Alexia, and your teacher Miss Putellas, is my little sister! I am here today to teach you guys a little about football, my favorite sport of all time. Does anyone else like football here?” Seeing little girls jump up, with arms in the air shouting “Me! Me!” warmed the blonde's heart.

How far the women’s game has come.

The next hour was filled with kids laughing as Alexia pushed them back and forth while explaining set pieces and general rules of the game, while you sat to the side, giving her a ball if she needed one.

An unexpected arm makes its way around your shoulders before a warm breath hits your ear “How’s it going?”

It was Alba, who had now sat down next to you, a cheeky smile on her face, that didn’t look that far off from her sister’s smug one. “What are you doing here?”

“Well I couldn’t just leave you two love birds alone here, could I?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sure. And you weren’t staring at her ass.”

“You’re delusional.”

Hearing her sister's loud laugh made Alexia turn her head at an impressive speed, catching her pinching your cheek in teasing. Quickly she told the kids what to practice before jogging over to you and Alba. “What are you doing here?”

“Hello to you too, dear sister! This is my class as well if you haven’t forgotten?”

Of course, she hadn’t. Really. How could she ever forget about her sister?

“I thought you didn’t have the class today?”

Alba couldn’t help but laugh at her sister's annoyed face. Her plan had worked, she had officially crashed whatever this was. “I didn't. But I can’t miss out on seeing you in my workspace, can I?” Her sister grunted, annoyed that she couldn’t have the day to herself. And the kids of course.

The rest of the day was spent with Alexia teaching the kids, managing incredibly well for someone who doesn’t usually work with 22 kids under the age of 10. Meanwhile, Alba made good use of her time by teasing you left, right, and center, not missing a chance to make fun of your obvious attraction to her sister, while you tried to help the footballer with moving cones or explaining something again.

The kids were much quieter on the way back, Ale had tired them out quite well, but Ben still wouldn’t leave Alexia’s side.

“Miss Alexia?”

“Yes, Ben?”

“Evie said that people date before they get married. So are you and Miss y/n dating?”

And there it was again, that nagging heat in your cheeks as Alexia looked up from your student, into your eyes. “I don’t know Ben, let me ask your teacher.”

Alba was trying not to scream while walking a couple of paces in front of you, pushing kids back into line when they wandered off, many of them trying to get back to her sister as they were now very interested in the blond woman.

“Would you like to go out on a date with me?”

“I would love to go on a date with you Alexia.”

A squeal left young Ben’s mouth before he let go of your new date’s hand, sprinting back to his friends and grabbing Alba’s hand.

“I did it, Miss Putellas! They’re gonna get married!”

#woso #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso imagines #woso community #alexias putellas #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas imagine #barça femeni #barca femeni x reader #barcelona femeni x reader #barcelona femeni

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takumiraine · 1 month ago

Text

Once Upon a Time chapter 9

Danny is still going through it, but it gets better I promise.

Taku note: jesus fuck putting the links in on these ones was a beast. I actually had to LOG IN to tumblr on my COMPUTER. ick.

There is some texting abbreviations here. The abbreviations are: B, meaning Bruce, obviously. It is saved as just ‘B’ in his phone. R, meaning Replacement which is Tim. Tim is saved as Replacement. DB is Damian, saved as Demon Brat. D, is Dick, and is just saved as an eggplant emoji in Jason’s phone. This may or may not be relevant later.

—-

Okay. Okay. He needs a plan. He needs to think and form a plan. He needs a computer. He grabs a notebook. Scrambles around his upturned apartment until he finds a pen. Starts writing equations. The equations will solve to binary numbers. Each one a different letter. His brain is humming. He double checks his work. Triple checks it. Tears the page out.

Checks the work again.

He grabs a bit of his remaining cash. Climbs out onto his fire escape. Phases his hand through the glass to carefully reset the trap.

Move on silent feet, sticking to shadows. Hoodie on and hood over his head. Silent and fast. Alert. Find an Internet cafe. Buy an hour of computer time. Log onto the conspiracy site. Send a new private message.

Carefully type in the equations with shaking hands. Time ticks by so slowly and yet so fast. Equations come back to him. Solve. Translate. Read. Send more back. More frantic than before. They have to run. They have to hide. They cannot come here.

He received a picture of a chocolate bar in return.

They’re coming here. They’re coming. They’re coming and Danny can’t stop it. Can’t stop any of it.

He deletes the messages. Logs out of the website. Clears the history. Takes the paper. Leaves the building. Burns the paper to ash.

Hears a van. Pulls his hood further down over his head. Has to get to the observatory. That was the agreed upon meeting place. Has to get there. Has to hide.

Has to find a way to keep them safe. He’s out of practice. He doesn’t have the upper hand. He’s so scared. Scared for his friends. He gets to the observatory. It’s dark in there. Locked. Danny finds a ladder. Climbs. On the roof. The dome is solid. Cold. Damp. He sits in the shadow of the lens. He waits.

Time moved. Time stood still. Heavy cloud cover meant he couldn’t watch the passage of time in the moon and stars. That was Gotham. Last clear night or day was a long time ago. Danny couldn’t breathe.

Loud footsteps. He pressed himself deeper into the shadows.

“D…?” The voice was familiar. Danny peered out into the darkness, and saw two familiar faces.

“Tuck… Sam…” he croaked, voice raw like he had just spent hours Wailing.

“Hey Danny, good to see you.” Sam sat beside him and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. The Fenton Creep Stick laid across her lap. Tucker came to join them, sitting on his other side and rifling around in his backpack. Before Danny could process it, a couple high protein granola bars and a bottle of strawberry pedialyte was put on his lap.

“Eat. Panicking burns calories and you need them.” Tucker insisted, nudging him gently. Already Danny felt the panic subsiding, leaving him exhausted. He ate the protein bars mechanically, forcing himself to focus on the taste and the feel of them between his teeth. He needed the nutrients desperately. After the protein bars were eaten, Danny chilled the bottle of strawberry drink and popped the cap off, chugging it.

“Alright. Now that you’re sort of fed and hydrated, breathe. You know I love the whole dead vibe as much as the next girl, but you’re still half human.” Sam rubbed his leg with her free hand and Tucker rubbed his back. It was soothing and almost involuntarily he took a deep breath in and out, then another, and another. He felt his mind settle. When he could finally think clearly again, he pulled them both close in a hug.

“Ancients, I’ve missed you guys…”

“Us too man. Us too,” Tucker agreed, squeezing Danny back just as tightly.

“Now, not to turn you back onto a doom spiral, but what the hell happened?” Sam asked once they pulled back from the embrace.

“Well, it’s kind of a long story. But I’ll tell you everything.” And Danny did. He started with getting enrolled in school, which they knew, because Tucker helped. Then with the cute guy that befriended him out of nowhere, and although he kept the name to himself, Sam clocked his crush almost immediately.

“It’s okay Danny, I have a radar for that. You were in love with me for how many years now?” She teased. “I am now able to spot a Danny-crush from a hundred yards.”

Tucker laughed with her and Danny groaned putting his head back in his hands. “I hate you so much sometimes…” he moaned.

“Yeah we love you too buddy.” Tucker patted him again. “Keep going with the story.”

He did. The tutoring, the meetings with red hood, and then finally, the week before and that evening. Again he left out the fact that he recognized Hood’s real identity. Sam and Tucker wouldn’t tell, but he couldn’t out another hero in good conscience. Even if they were fighting.

“Shit man.” Tucker scooted himself closer, while Sam did the same on his other side. “That was…”

“I’d rather fight Skulker and Technus together without my powers or a thermos…” he mumbled, pulling his knees to his chest and pressing his face into them.

“Okay. So here’s what we’re going to do. Tucker is going to make sure none of his trip lines have been tripped, I’m gonna make sure no creeps sneak up on us here. You’re gonna take a nap. You look like you’re about ready to drop dead again.” Danny nodded into his knees, and Tucker got out his pda and got to work.

Slowly, Danny’s breathing evened and slowed then stopped almost completely. Having his friends nearby meant he was safe. Safety meant sleep.

Jason was out looking. He started at Danny’s apartment, but he wasn’t answering, there was no sound of movement, the thermals were all ambient, so he moved on.

The longer he looked the more he realized, he barely knew anything about Danny. Danny was great at hedging around questions about himself. Turning the conversation back to Jason, or topics that were safe. The weather, the best places to get burgers, the best type of tree to climb, the best dangerous animal to be freed from the zoo. That last topic was courtesy of Damian but…

Then Jason remembered. They had been eating outside after dark. Danny had looked up at the sky and sighed, then pointed fries accusingly at Jason. “Your dad is like, richer than anyone else here right? He should really do something about all this smog. Seeing the stars at night is one of life’s great pleasures.”

“You could go to the observatory,” Jason had suggested, fairly used to Danny occasionally having ideas for Bruce’s money without any real interest in using it for himself. Always for the betterment of the city as a whole.

“That’s a last resort option. Nothing beats constellation spotting laying on a rooftop. You should be able to see Orion’s Belt over….” Danny looked up at the sky, head shifting as he oriented himself to north and then pointing “over there, somewhere.”

“Well, I’ll bring it up and see what WE has in the works for ecological initiatives.” Jason had said, taken in by how certain Danny was. He could have been bullshitting Jason, but sure enough when he looked it up later, Danny had the right idea, even if he was a few degrees off in his estimation.

Not having any better idea, Jason sped off towards the observatory.

Danny had been asleep for maybe an hour when the motorcycle was heard pulling up. Tucker turned off his modified PDA, the backlight in the screen would have given them away in a heartbeat.

Once the motorcycle turned off though, Sam woke up Danny. He woke with a silent start, looking around to see what had alarmed his friends. When he felt the familiar press of another halfa’s core he pressed a hand to each of their knees and wrote a small smiley face on them. Danny did not miss the way Sam’s grip on the creep stick tightened.

Jason didn’t immediately think anything of the observatory as he circled it. There were two hot spots on the roof that were likely just horny teenagers. He would make his loop and then head off. At least, that was the plan until he spotted the ice cold person shape between the two warmer ones.

Nobody ran that cold except Danny.

Jason stood at the base of the ladder and considered his options. He didn’t know who Danny was up there with. He didn’t know if Danny was in danger. Though the pit in him wasn’t any more riled up than it normally was. He didn’t know if Danny would throw his ass right off the roof. There wasn’t anything around here for him to grapnel onto if he was.

‘I did not know your trip into the pit made you a coward, Todd’ he could hear Damian taunt in his head.

Shaking the thought of his brother off, Jason climbed the ladder. The moment his helmet popped over the roof Danny’s eyes were fixed on him. “Go away J-Hood.”

Jason was momentarily surprised, Danny had obviously not expected him to come in costume, but corrected himself fairly flawlessly. Not outing him to the two people who were holding him protectively. Must be Sam and Tucker.

“I’m not going to hurt you. Are these your friends?” He asked, not moving any further up the ladder. Danny nodded, continuing to glare over his knees.

“Sam and Tucker. They knew me… before everything else.”

Jason nodded. Climbed up enough to get a good look. “I have a safe house nearby. Can we go there and talk?”

“Is more of your little guano group” Sam snickered at the name and Tucker gave Danny a fist bump, “going to hunt me down if I don’t?”

“No. But you’ll want to hear what I have to say.”

Danny looked between his friends for a minute, before slowly uncurling and standing, helping his friends up. “Fine.”

Once they were all on the ground they walked to the safe house, a couple blocks away. Once they were inside, Jason pulled off the helmet.

“Jason Todd. Also known as Red Hood.”

He noticed Sam give Danny a look, and he made a face back at her. Tucker rolled his eyes. “You talk to the Bat?” Danny asked, rather than confront his friend.

“Yeah. But that’s not the important part. After we talked tonight Oracle noticed something. The firewall was an automatic scoop. Anything related to your parents’….hobby got thrown into a…. Technological bucket. It’s why your messages never made it to the League.”

Danny took a step back, and Sam and Tucker automatically moved closer, supporting him. “You…. Heard the messages?”

“There was video too. Of… an attack.”

“Of course those assholes were filming it.” Sam tightened her grip on the creep stick as she spoke. Danny raised a shaking hand to his face, feeling for something. His eyes had gone unfocused.

Damn it. Jason took a step forward and Danny flinched, the air going cold. “Easy D.” Tucker soothed. “You’re in Gotham. We’re gonna go sit.” Sam and Tucker bullied Danny to the couch. Tucker sat next to him, while Sam stood in front of them protectively. When she caught Jason trying to look around her she snapped to get his attention.

“Hey, Danny needs some water. About 35 degrees if you have it that cold, cold as you have otherwise.” The snapping and hyper specific orders placed her in his memory. Samantha Manson. Daughter of the Amity Mansons. They attended a few Galas when she was younger. She was very insistent on her veganism even then.

Jason wasn’t about to argue with a woman holding a bat. If Sam was anything like his brothers, she knew how to use it even before the vigilante training.

He brought Danny water, tap with a couple of ice cubes, and passed it to Tucker, who was still talking quietly to Danny. Danny was nodding and occasionally giving a thin half smile, but was able to hold the glass on his own and sip from it.

“We need a plan.” Danny said after he finished drinking.

“Batman wants to talk to you.” Jason told him, which got Danny opening his mouth to protest.

“First,” Sam interrupted, looking at Danny then at Jason, “Tucker is going to do his checks, Danny is going to sleep, and we are going to wait.”

“I don’t need to sleep.” Danny crossed his arms, protesting.

“And Dash didn’t shove you in a locker at least once a week.” Tucker’s response was combined with an eye roll. “You look like you just went a dozen rounds with Skulker without your powers. You need pizza rolls and a nap.”

“You make me sound like I’m a kindergartener.”

“I think I have pizza rolls.” Jason interrupted the protest. “I’ll kill the lights, make the brat’s pizza rolls for you and you just lay there until they’re done.”

Danny scowled at Jason for hanging up on him but as Tucker slid off the couch onto the floor in front of him, Danny obediently laid down. As Jason pulled the bag out of the freezer and started the oven heating, he watched Danny’s breathing slow down and even out, then stop altogether.

Sam followed his gaze and took Danny’s sleeping form in quickly before peering at what Tucker was doing. Seeing that the people Danny knew the longest weren’t concerned about his lack of visible breathing, Jason settled a bit, texting the family chat.

From J: so I found Danny. But he has backup now. He managed to get in contact with his friends.

From B: Are you on your way?

From J: no. He was freaking out. Right now he’s asleep on the couch and I’m making pizza rolls.

From DB: Excuse me zombie child, those happen to be mine.

From J: Better learn to share now before you learn the hard way like Dickie, Timber and I did.

From B: Jason, please.

From J: what? It’s not a lie. He’s the fourth Robin that we know about.

From DB: I am the best. I will not be replaced.

From R: idk Dami, the new kid has black hair, blue eyes and a troubled past. He’s adoption bait. Hopefully he didn’t lie about his age and really is older than you.

From D: it’s never easy having to hand over the spandex and cape to a younger more dangerous Robin.

From DB: So you admit that I am the best.

From D: no I said you were younger and more dangerous than we were as Robin. Except for maybe Jay. He liked to bite criminals.

From J: hey! They were the idiots who put their hands near my face. I grew up hungry. You eat what you can.

From B: Before this gets more out of hand, Jason, do you know about when you will be arriving?

From J: probably going to leave here in 45 minutes to an hour. I will let you know.

Jason was going to take his time cooking those pizza rolls correctly. He wasn’t going to let them ooze out everywhere, then they would have to cool so when Danny inevitably wolfed them down he wouldn’t scorch his mouth. Allow for some wake up time…

Jason was completely, and understandably in his opinion, giving Danny as much time before the meet the family scene happened. The guy had been through enough.

#writing #fanfiction #danny fenton #danny phantom #dc x dp #dpxdc #jason todd #red hood #batfam #dead on main #dp dc crossover

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sheerfreesia007 · 1 month ago

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Love Letters

Pairing: Hyunjin x Reader

Word count: 2,242

Content warnings: Fluff

Summary: You feel silly writing the first letter to him since you had just seen him the day before on a date. But after the first one it got easier and easier to express your love for him in typed letters. What happens when he makes you a gift involving those letters?

Yeobo: Honey

The first time he receives a letter from you he’s absolutely befuddled and confused because he had just seen you the day before on a nice romantic date walking around the Han river together before going to grab a simple lunch and ice cream. It had been a very peaceful relaxed date where the two of you had been able to just enjoy each other’s presence. But as he stares at the heavy envelope he can’t help but feel his heart start to race, no one has ever sent him a letter. And he can tell that you’ve put in a lot of effort into the letter and chosen the stationery with care, it feels heavier than normal paper and there’s a texture to the envelope that feels different. He slips the letter into his bag as he’s on his way to the dance studio and vows to read the letter on his break when he has time.

But soon dance practice has his full attention and Hyunjin forgets about the letter stored away in his bag. That is until it’s break time and Felix goes rummaging through his bag for a snack that he knows Hyunjin always keeps in there for the two of them to share before they are able to eat a meal. When he comes up with the snack hanging from his teeth and the envelope in his hands he turns to Hyunjin with wide eyes that dart between the envelope and his best friend.

”Hyung, what is this? Is this from yeobo?” He asks loudly enough to catch Hyunjin’s attention. Hyunjin turns from talking to Minho about a turn that doesn’t feel right to him and spots Felix holding your envelope in his hands causing him to rush over and grab the envelope from him.

”That’s mine.” Hyunjin says hastily and quickly tries to shove it back into his bag as his cheeks blush prettily.

”Did she really send you a love letter?” Felix asks giddily as his wide eyes follow his friend. Hyunjin can see the excitement written all across Felix’s face and his blush deepens on his face. He’s not embarrassed to receive a love letter from you, far from it actually. But the fact that Felix was able to find it so easily has him feeling slightly put off that someone else has already seen it. He tilts his head to the side wondering why he’s so adamant about keeping this for himself but he quickly shakes his head trying to clear it.

”Shush, I don’t know, I just got it today and haven’t had a chance to read it yet.” Hyunjin whines softly trying to get his friend to shut up. Felix laughs softly before nodding his head at his friend before opening the snack package and offering some to Hyunjin first. They share the snack before Minho calls for them to resume their practice, he tells them that they’ll go for another half hour and then break for lunch which they agree to.

A half hour later Hyunjin slumps onto the couch tiredly as Felix and Minho start talking about what they should all order for lunch. Hyunjin’s foot slips along the floor and hits his bag and he’s reminded of your letter once more. He bends forward and rummages through his bag before pulling out the envelope. He opens it carefully and smiles wistfully as your favorite perfume wafts through the air gently from the letter. He’s instantly reminded of the image of you laughing at something he had said on your last date while walking with him around the river, your hair fluttering in the breeze covering your face and he could only see your mouth curved in a happy smile as you laughed.

He doesn’t hear Felix or Minho ask him what he’d like for lunch or that they were going to go pick it up instead of having it delivered. But as Felix sees the letter in Hyunjin’s hand he easily guides Minho out of the dance studio so that they can give Hyunjin some quiet to read your letter to him.

Unfolding the letter Hyunjin is surprised to see that it’s typed and not handwritten like he thought you would do. His eyes dart down the page quickly and spot your flourished signature down at the bottom of the page and smiles softly. And then his eyes race back to the top of the letter and begin to read.

Dear my sweet Hyune, This seems so silly to do but I saw it in one of the dramas that you liked and figured it would be a sweet thing to do for you. I don’t know if I’ll be able to keep this up because I feel so silly typing this out but I will try my hardest. I know you will appreciate a letter even if I don’t know what to say in it. I want to thank you for always taking care of me. Your care and love that you show me all the time is so precious to me and I can’t get enough of it. I hope you can feel my love and care for you as well, because I love you so much. To the moon and back a few times round trip. Alright that’s all I wanted to tell you, I’ll see you soon my love. Love.

Hyunjin’s heart raced as his eyes finished reading the letter as a smile graced his face, already imagining you sitting at a typewriter talking to yourself as you typed up his letter. He giggled softly at the image and felt his heart slowly start to calm down but feel slightly fuller at the sweet silly letter. Folding it back up he slipped it into his bag carefully wanting to keep it neat and pristine before he could find a way to keep it somewhere safe. Grabbing his phone he quickly typed out a sweet text to you letting you know that he loved your letter and couldn’t wait to see you again to smother you in thankful kisses. For the rest of the day he felt as if he was on cloud nine all because of that silly little letter from you.

*-*-*-*

Hyunjin walks into the recording studio and spots Felix sitting on the couch waiting for his turn to record as Chan, Changbin, and Han all sit at the long desk where all the recording equipment is and Jeongin is inside the booth recording his part. Walking over to the couch Felix looks up and smiles brightly at his best friend before scooting along the couch to make room for him to sit.

“So did she send you another one?” Felix asked excitedly and Hyunjin smiled softly at his friend before nodding his head slowly while darting his eyes around the room to make sure no one else was watching them. Felix nearly bounced in his seat and Hyunjin giggled along with him. “I love that she sends you love letters. It’s so romantic and whimsical. So sweet.” Felix gushes and Hyunjin grins while nodding.

It’s been months now since the first letter arrived and while at first the letter had been short and silly full of your awkwardness of not knowing what to write to him they soon evolved into lovely free thought letters of things that reminded you of him and why you loved him so much. They often revolve around reminiscing about your dates but more often they just talk about things that you love about him and your relationship. The letters are like a window into your mind and he can’t help but become addicted to the view you give him.

“I love it too. In fact, I’m making her a gift that involves the letters. Would you like to see it?” Hyunjin asks Felix who eagerly nods his head with wide excited eyes.

“Yes, of course. Show me.” he gushes out and Hyunjin smiles while pulling out his phone and opening up his camera roll to show him the progress pictures he’s been taking of the gift he’s making. “Oh Hyune! It’s amazing! She’s going to love it.” Felix says excitedly in a whisper and Hyunjin blushes brightly at his praise.

“You really think she’ll like it? I’m worried it’s too much.” Hyunjin admitted and Felix quickly shook his head in disagreement.

“Absolutely not, she’s going to love this. You have to finish it and give it to her Hyune. She’ll be so happy I promise you. Look at all the letters she’s sent you. This would mean so much to her.” Felix said Hyunjin looked at his friend quietly before coming to the conclusion that he was right. It would mean so much to give this to her. He nodded his head and Felix began giggling happily before grabbing onto Hyunjin’s arm and cuddling into his side.

*-*-*-*

The evening of your one year anniversary was almost like a fairytale to you, Hyunjin picked you up in a dark tinted luxury car that drove you to a beautiful restaurant that had a candlelit dinner waiting for the two of you. You spent hours talking and laughing over dinner reminiscing about your year long relationship and how much your lives had changed for the better since meeting. It had already been such a lovely evening between the two of you and now as you stood in front of your door with Hyunjin draped over your back with his arms wrapped loosely around your waist and his necks sucking kisses and dark marks into your skin while he husked out loving words to you you couldn’t think of a better way to end your evening.

When you finally got the door open and stumbled in with Hyunjin’s weight pressed to your back you were shocked to see your living room lit up by fairy lights, a bottle of champagne chilling in an ice bucket, a beautiful bouquet of red roses and a gift bag on your coffee table, you were shocked to your core. Hyunjin giggles softly at your halted steps before he steps around you and faces you. He reaches out and grabs onto your hands before guiding you further into your apartment and towards the couch.

”I have a surprise for you.” He says softly and you look up at him dazed.

”Hyunjin this is more than enough of a surprise.” You whisper to him but he shakes his head at you in disagreement.

”No, nothing will ever be enough. But I’m hoping that this will come slightly close to it.” He says softly and you stare at him wide eyed. He guides you over to the couch and sits you down before taking a seat right next to you. He opens the champagne bottle and pours you a glass in a pretty glass flute before pouring one for himself. “To many more years together. I love and adore you Yeobo.” Hyunjin cheers and you beam up at him happily before clinking your glass with his.

”To many more years together.” You mirrored him and he leaned forward to press a quick kiss to your lips.

”Now I have a gift for you. It’s been in the making for a long time and it means a great deal to me. So I hope it means just as much to you.” He confessed softly and you smiled lovingly at him before pressing a kiss to his lips.

”I’m sure I’ll love it since it’s from you.” You admitted quietly before turning to the gift bag and peered into it. You gently reached in and took out the large leather bound book and set it in your lap, on the cover was etched Year One and it was a hefty book with lots of pages in it. Opening the book you’re greeted with the very first letter you ever sent to Hyunjin and gasp softly before turning your head quickly to him. He grins bashfully at you and you feel tears prick the back of your eyes. “You kept them?” You ask shocked and in awe.

”Of course I did. They’re a symbol of your love for me.” He says softly and you rest your head on his shoulder feeling your heart beat erratically for him. You turned the page and your eyes widened as you saw that it was a handwritten letter from Hyunjin to you responding to your own letter. Suddenly tears began to cascade from your eyes and you set the book on the coffee table gently before turning to him and burying your face in his chest. He wrapped his arms around you tightly and kissed your temple softly.

”I responded to every letter you wrote me and bound them together in the book.” He told you gently and you sobbed loudly into his chest.

”You sweet, romantic man.” You cried softly as you gripped him tightly. “Will you read it with me?” You asked as you looked up at him.

”I would love to. But it might take us awhile.” He confessed softly. “I might’ve gotten carried away with some of my letters.” He admitted and you chuckled at him.

”Good, we can spend however long reading it together.” You said lovingly to him before pressing your lips to his in a blind move that he easily and effortlessly reciprocated. The love between the two of you growing to an all consuming amount.

SKZ Taglist: @intartaruginha, @kayleefriedchicken, @babigriin, @simpforleeknaur, @inlovewithstraykids

#my writing #stray kids #skz #skz x reader #hwang hyunjin x reader #hyunjin x reader #hwang hyunjin #hyunjin

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guywithn0name · 7 months ago

Text

-Alphabet headcanons-

;Miles G Morales

Miles G Morales x any gender reader

🎸 | Masterlist | 🎸

I still haven’t finished a post I’ve had in my drafts for like 3 months already ( ・∇・) (it’s a Leon Kennedy post lol) but in the meantime I’m going to write this and actively ignore the drafts (^з^)-♡ and ik Miles from 1610 and this Miles are super similar but they have different headcannons since they are still different people and they’ve had different experiences so yeah lol.

Warnings: not rly proofread

-‘A’ is for AFFECTION (how affectionate are they?)

Miles isn’t one to show much affection beyond a simple hand-in-hand or a small and quick peck while in public. But he is more affectionate when you two are in private, or with people he’s comfortable around. His love language is acts of service along with quality time. He likes building his tech when you’re around, not really talking but just chilling together while listening to music. If Miles ever gives you gifts he’ll give you homemade gifts like; paper bouquet, handwritten letter, homemade food and ect. I don’t really think he’d give a lot of materialistic gifts. Mostly because over half of the money he steals is to help him and his mom. And he doesn’t really get the point of them either. He gets they’re nice, but why buy something expensive when you can make something?

-‘B’ is for BESTFRIEND (what are they like as a bestfriend?)

He’a a pretty chill guy to be friends with at the end of the day. He might be a bit closed off at first but when he opens up he’s a huge nerd. He’ll talk about his tech for hours if you know he’s the Prowler. If you two go to a McDonald’s or something, he’s the one who’ll give you one chicken nugget but not buy you a box for you because he’s too poor for that, but if you buy him McDonald’s or something like that, he will give you something self-made as a thank you gift.

-‘C’ is for CUDDLES (how and do they like to cuddle?)

He’s one of them sleepy cuddle people, he especially cuddles with you when he’s sleepy or tired. He acts like he’s a big spoon when y’all cuddle, but he’s really a secret little spoon. He isn’t big on showing affection like I said before, but he is semi cuddly when you two are alone in peace. He likes wrapping himself around you, full body hug and all.

-‘D’ is for DOMESTIC (if they settle down, how will they help?)

Miles is a bit hesitant on settling down with someone. He wants to, yeah. But because of his Prowler job he isn’t quick to just live with anybody. But that aside, let’s talk about what it’s like to live with Miles. He’s the type of person who wants to split the chores. The chores he would do is probably cooking and things along those lines. If you know he’s the Prowler you 100% will find some random parts around the place. The random prowler claw in the coffee table in the living room. Don’t worry about it, Miles just wanted to watch some tv while he was fixing it. Miles appearing in the kitchen, his hands somehow covered in oil? He’s just getting water, don’t mind the oil, it’s just from his motorcycle. The random motorcycle and tech parts on the kitchen counter? Don’t worry, he’ll clean it up soon. He always tries to clean up his messes, but you might find some things that don’t belong in random places.

-‘E’ is for ENDING (how would the break up go?)

Depending on the situation of the break up and who breaks up with who, he still probably might be a bit sad about it, before or after the break up. If you’re the one who’s breaking up with him, he’d definitely want a reason why. He’d probably feel upset about it if it was for a good reason. If he’s the one breaking up with you. There’s are two reasons for him to break up with you. Reason number one; he doesn’t like you anymore and he’s not cruel enough to date someone he doesn’t like. Reason number two; he doesn’t want to put you in danger because of his Prowler job, he just wants to protect you one of the few ways he knows how to.

-‘F’ is for FIANCÉ (how do they feel about marriage)

Miles’ a bit hesitant to marry someone, but he does want to marry someone at some point of his life. He wants the same kind of marriage and love his mom and dad had together. If Miles has a wedding, he’d want a small wedding with only close friends and family attending. He’s not that interested in a big wedding with a ton of people. He thinks a wedding is something only the people who you and him are actually close to.

-‘G’ is for GENTLE (how gentle are they?)

He tries his best to be gentle with you. But he isn’t too good with it. Miles had built a kind of wall around himself after his dad’s death. He still tries his best with you, but somewhat always keeps you at an arms length. But after some time he lets you get closer. Miles’ always careful not to make you uncomfortable or uneasy.

-‘H’ is for HUGS (do they like hugs?)

Miles does like hugs, but he definitely isn’t that clear about it. He also somehow has some of the warmest, and best hugs ever to exist. His hugs with his family member and close friends are like bearhugs. He’s a little awkward hugging strangers tho.

-‘I’ is for I LOVE YOU (when do they say I love you for the first time?)

All things considered, Miles was probably the one who said “I love you” first. You two were hanging out on the rooftop of the apartment complex he lived in, just chilling and looking at the stars while listening to music from his phone. And suddenly he just blurted the words “I love you” while admiring you. It was a cute moment.

-‘J’ is for JEALOUSY (do they get easily jealous? And if they do, what will they do?)

He doesn’t get jealous that much, only when other people obviously flirt with you or something along those lines, he’s more protective than jealous most of the time. He knows you’re loyal, so he doesn’t act too jealous. The most he’ll do when he’s jealous is a small tug on your hand to signal he wants to leave while glaring at the other person, he has a cold exterior so the glare wasn’t unnecessary surprising.

-‘K’ is for KISSES (how often do they like to get or give kisses, and where?)

Miles isn’t someone who likes to give a lot of affection in public, like I said earlier. He does like giving kisses, and reviving them. Miles just doesn’t like giving them in public. When he does give kisses in public, the most he’ll do is give a little peck on the cheek, forehead or on your temple. When he does kiss you on the lips, he’ll definitely do it when you two are alone or at each others place like I’ve said multiple times. When you two kiss, he likes to have his hand on you hip or on the side of you neck. Miles also likes giving soft pecks on the neck when you two cuddle. He enjoys getting kisses, but he doesn’t like showing that. His favourite part to get kissed is on his temple or on the crook of his neck, but only a gentle kiss or peck.

-‘L’ is for LITTLE ONES (how are they with kids?)

There’s only one word on how to describe Miles with kids, awkward. He isn’t bad with them, or good with them. Just awkward. He doesn’t wanna hurt one of them, because of that he doesn’t really know how to handle them. He’s too scared that he’ll hurt one, so he prefers not to interact with kids.

-‘M’ is for MORNINGS (how are mornings with them?

He’s a groggy morning boy. And like I mentioned he’s cuddly when he’s tired, so don’t be expecting to be able to get up early. So when you wake up, you’re 100% in some messy position with Miles wrapped around you or laying on top of you. He probably drooled at least a bit during the night too. His whole morning routine is pretty simple, get up from bed. (Like ten minutes after he woke up) Then changing his clothes and getting breakfast after brushing his teeth, a simple and quick morning.

-‘N’ is for NIGHTS (how are nights with them?)

Miles has a full on night routine, it’s not a complicated one, but he still has one. He always takes a shower before he goes to bed. And his whole skin routine is only water. How does he have such clear skin with so little effort? Only no one knows. He also wears a durag to bed, he also has like three different durags to choose from. Why? Don’t ask, seriously, don’t. (He doesn’t know either) He also always says “good night” and “love you” to his mom before going to sleep. When he moves out, he’ll text it to her occasionally, but every night but some nights. Just to remind her that he still exists. (They talk almost every other day or every day on the phone)

-‘O’ is for OPEN (how open are they about themselves?)

Miles was more open before his dad’s death, but he became a lot more closed off after it. It takes a while for him to fully trust someone. But when he does give someone his trust, it’s like peeling an onion, a lot of layers. He’s slow at opening up, but when he does it means he really does trust you. When he does in fact trust you, you’re one of his forever friends. He’s the type of guy to have a few close friends rather than a lot of not so close friends.

-‘P’ is for PATIENCE (how patient are they with you?)

Since Miles himself is a pretty standoffish, so he understands if you don’t want to be open with him right off the bat. He’s definitely patient with you as long as you’re patient with him too. He wants to take his time with the relationship, not rush to things.

-‘Q’ is for QUIZZES (how much do they remember about you?)

Miles actually remembers quite a lot about you. It’s pretty surprising since he’s the Prowler, and his school along with helping his mom at home too.

-‘R’ is for REMEMBER (what’s their favourite moment in the relationship?)

One of his favourite moments in your relationship was when he told you he was the Prowler. You two had been dating for about a year and half at that point. You were staying over the night at his place. It was almost Halloween and the two of you were coming up with costume ideas when the topic of vigilantes came up. Or more specifically, the Prowler. Miles had been thinking about telling you that he was the Prowler for a bit at this point. So, he decided that now was a good time to tell you. A bit later Miles takes a deep breath and then takes your hands in his, before finally telling you the truth of him being the Prowler. It was a really nice moment to the two of you, and now one of Miles favourite moment of your relationship.

-‘S’ is for SECURITY (how protective are they?)

He’s actually a little protective, he wasn’t as protective before his dad died, but he got more protective after it. He doesn’t wanna loose another person who’s close to him. He also developed a small habit of walking you home when you’re over at his place. The city’s dangerous and he knows it, he likes knowing that you got home safe after you leave his place, it gives him some comfort.

-‘T’ is for TRY (how much effort are they putting into the relationship, dates and ect?)

Miles puts in his share fair of effort into the relationship, but if he notices that you’re not putting the same amount of effort into the relationship he’ll become more distant. He wants that the both of you put in effort for the relationship, not just one-sided effort. Like I mentioned before, he likes giving hand-made gifts and likes to cook homemade meals for you. He isn’t the biggest fan of going on fancy dates or anything. Mostly because he doesn’t really have enough money to pay for them, plus the city he lives in (and most likely you) definitely isn’t the safest place to have dates outside. Miles really likes dates that are spent indoors at each others houses. He especially likes movie dates, and dates where you cook or bake together. Doesn’t matter if you’re good at it or not, he’ll still have a lot of fun with you.

-‘U’ is for UGLY (what’s a bad habit of theirs?)

He sometimes has a dumb habit of forgetting to answer texts or calls when his phone’s on silent. And if he does see it, he sometimes forgets to respond completely and only realises it a few hours later.

-‘V’ is for VANITY (how insecure are they?)

He’s not an insecure person, at all. He’s pretty confident in himself, he’s just quiet. But like with my Miles 1610 alphabet headcannon, he’ll get a tiny iny bit insecure if you two haven’t spent time together in a while. (you should go read it if you haven’t already ;) )

-‘W’ is for WHOLE (do they feel whole without you?)

Miles would be sad without you, but he wouldn’t fully feel incomplete without you. But he would certainly miss you. He already lost his dad, so he knows how to deal with sadness. He would miss you. But it all depends if you died or left him. If you died Miles would definitely make a graffiti of you, just like he did of his dad. But if you left him, or the other way around. He would probably think about you time to time, even miss you at times. But he wouldn’t come after you, the walls around his heart wouldn’t let him.

-‘X’ is for XTRA (extra headcanon about them)

Miles is a great cook, his mom taught him how to cook since he’s been little. He wants to get a small tattoo in honour of his dad in the future. He likes drawing you in his sketchbooks, and as little doodles in sticky notes that are on his blueprints of his gear and other things. He actually doesn’t enjoy horror movies a lot, he gets scared easily by them even tho he puts on a front of not-being-scared-of-anything. Miles definitely tender headed, and he only ever lets a very specific barber or his mom touch his hair. And you if you’re lucky.

-‘Y’ is for YUCK (what can they not stand?)

He hates people who just cannot season food properly, it disgusts and pains him at the same time.

-‘Z’ is for ZLEEP (how is to sleep with them?)

Two words for sleeping with him; no space. He moves around a ton while he sleeps and like I mentioned earlier, he cuddles a lot while he sleeps. He definitely has a second blanket that he hugs in his sleep when he can’t cuddle anyone. He’s also one of those people who just cannot sleep without a blanket on. Is he overheating under it? Maybe. But he can’t not sleep with it. Without it he ain’t sleeping, honestly.

HAPPY PRIDE MONTH!! :)

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