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grippingbeskar · 2 years ago

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i just k n o w that joel would absolutely love to have reader sit on his face. i don’t think he would ever initiate it, but if baby asked nicely 🤭🤭

asking nicely

joel miller x afab!reader.

warnings: 18+ explicit content. (dirty talk. lil bit of dom!joel. face sitting clearly. joel being a mf tease i want to **** *** ****) swearing.

a/n: anon you are so right. like so so right. i love when people can read his character perfectly— like you are so right about this it’s maddening. he wouldn’t ask, but boyyyyy would he provide. thankyou for this i hope it’s okay i went a little crazy with it. also i didn’t edit this i just DID it. LET ME SIT ON YOUR FACE JOELSNJCKSNCJS

“Stop fidgetin’.” Joel grumbles into the back of your neck, arm tightening around your hips to stop you from flipping over for the thousandth time. You cringe a little, knowing how the tiny bed you two have shacked up in for a night between patrol runs hides none of your thrashing movements to him. You hate keeping him from the limited sleep he gets— but it’s for a good reason.

“Sorry.” You say, and he groans in response. You try to stay still— really, you do. You try to just go to sleep, but his hand picks up it’s movement again, tracing light circles on the skin of your bare hip, and then you’re back where you started.

You feel bad you’re keeping him up, but it’s his fault. How are you meant to just fall asleep when he’s literally touching you? He’s… him. It’s impossible not to want to jump his bones every time he lays a finger on you, let alone hooks his strong arm over your body, his hips pressed against the back of yours.

You flip over again, face to face with him. One of his eyes open, and he groans.

“Darlin’.” He says, voice low and cracked with sleep. “What is it? You havin’ trouble sleeping?”

Instead of answering, you just nod and scoot a little closer to him. You were still naked from the events of just hours before, Joel bending you over the end of the bed and fucking you until your mind went blank, and he’d only bothered to put on his boxers before crashing into sleep behind you. The two of you were incessant like that— you were pretty sure it had something to do with how long it took you both to get together. Now you were, you just couldn’t stay away.

He sighs and wraps you in his arms, kissing you softly on the forehead before you tuck yourself away under his chin. It’s not true, really. Well, you were having trouble sleeping, but it’s not for the reason he thinks.

You hardly get any time alone. Between Jackson’s demanding patrol schedules and Ellie running around with all her friends, you and Joel only really get a few choice moments to be really alone. Usually, it’s great. You love having Ellie and everyone in Jackson around, but tonight you were happy to be alone, and it just made you think of all the things you two do when you’re alone, and now, when you’re supposed to be sleeping, you couldn’t stop thinking about it.

“Better?” He says, and it’s you sighing this time. He was so sweet to you— just you, all the time, and you really shouldn’t bother him with the dirty thoughts running through your mind right now. “Alright, what is it?”

“Nothing.” You mumble and hide your face. One of his arms slips back over you slowly, his hand trailing it’s way to your face. His hands are so strong, he hardly has to apply any pressure before your eyes flutter up to him, forcing your head up.

“You lyin’ to me, darlin’?” You frown, pouting. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“You can’t even see how I’m looking at you.” You squint, trying to find the lines of his face in the pitch dark room.

“Can feel it.” He tips your head higher, making your body wriggle up to follow his touch. His lips hover in front of yours, warmth rolling over your cheeks. “You having those dreams again?”

You shake your head.

“No?” He confirms, and you do it again. “You feelin’ okay? You sick or somethin’?”

“Joel—“

“Don’t whine. You’re a big girl. You need something, you ask for it.” It might not have meant to be taken like… that, but fuck, you were nearly shaking in anticipation. The dip in his voice, a slightly demeaning lilt in his tone— it was doing nothing to calm down the wicked heat spreading in your stomach.

Whatever your reaction, it told him everything he needed to know.

Suddenly he’s sitting up, taking some of that warmth with him, but then he’s reaching for you again, pulling your naked body into his lap and tucking your hair behind your ears. The movement is so natural, so practised to him that he can do it blind.

He laughs darkly, hands cupping your cheeks and kissing you so deeply that it makes you squeak in surprise. Your body tenses up, then melts into him as his hands begin to trail lower, giving you what you wordlessly told him you needed. He’s slow, letting his fingers dip into every curve around your hips, tracing the line of your spine and smiling into your mouth as you arch yourself closer.

His hands reach the base of your spine, then lower, squeezing your ass and groaning as you grind down into his lap. He pulls away, kissing roughly under your jaw, down your neck, the tired and lazy pace making it impossible to not wrap your arms around his neck and thread your fingers through his hair.

“This what you want, sweet thing?” All you can do is hum happily, and he grinds you down on his lap again. “Jesus Christ— fuckin’ insatiable.”

“Joel…” You whine, and his teeth graze the sensitive spot on your neck, making you gasp.

“What I say, huh? You need somethin’…” He dips his head, teeth nipping you bottom lip teasingly. “You ask for it.”

“Joel, come on…” You squeeze your eyes shut, a little embarrassed by the dirty idea that had you flipping around in bed like an animal. Something in particular you two hadn’t tried yet. “I want— I want you to…”

“Tell me, sweet thing. Taught you better than to mumble, didn’t I?” You shudder, feeling his hands wander around your hips to the top of your thighs. He was getting close, but not right on the money.

You were really going to have to say it out loud.

A tight squeeze on your hips has your eyes fluttering open again, and he was so close you could see a little bit of him now. His usually unfairly fluffy hair is a little smushed down from where he’d been pressed into the pillow, and his eyes were half lidded, flitting between your eyes and where your hips met his. He was picture perfect like this— the dimmed image making you remember all the reasons you fell in love with him in the first place.

He squeezes you again, giving you a sly grin, and your mind switches from the romantic to a little more serious.

“I want your mouth.” You manage to say in a breathy gasp, and you’re rewarded with just that. He groans in approval, the vibration against your neck making you keen closer to him. He leaves wet kisses over your marked up neck, then down lower over your collarbone.

“Like this?” He says softly, and you can feel the smirk against your chest.

“No.”

“No?” He pulls back, and you groan— frustrated.

“Wait— yes. But… not like— that. Like…”

“Out with it. Now.” He says, and then smacks your ass like he’s encouraging a horse to trot. The action sparks a little fire in your stomach, and you push him in a show of strength. Your forearm shoves his chest lightly, sending him back into the headboard with a small but audible ‘oof.’

“I want to sit on your face.” You’re met with silence.

Joel’s wandering hands still on your bare skin, and if you really concentrate you can feel his stuttered pulse under his palms. The man who never freezes, never doesn’t know what to do— you left him completely speechless.

Your gut sinks. You think you’ve made him think you’re some kind of sex fiend, or worse— you’ve made him uncomfortable. You sit in the silence for two… three… four whole seconds before it all becomes too much and you try to backtrack.

“Hold on— wait, that came out of nowhere.” No, it did not. “I just… shit, Joel I just—“

“Fuck.” He mutters, and then slams his mouth to yours. He kisses you hot and heavy, and before you know it he’s laying down and you’re hovering over the top of him, your knees over his hips. “You sweet fuckin’ thing. Come ‘ere.”

“Joel, you don’t have t—“

“You want this, baby?” Figuring there’s no going back now, and the mere idea nearly sending your mind into a dizzy spell, you nod at him. “Good. Fuck— so good. I want it. Come here.”

He shuffles further underneath you, your legs feeling like jelly the second he hooks his arms around the backs of them. You gasp and nearly topple over when he yanks you up, and you have to hold onto the headboard when Joel’s shoulders part your legs further.

When you tentatively move higher, you shudder his name when his hot breath brushes over your core. It rushes over your sensitive inner thighs, and knowing he’s so close— so close, and no part of you could hide from him… it was nearly better than the actual thing. Nearly.

That was until he strained his neck up and kissed between your legs right there, and—

“Fuck, Joel!” You cried out, probably loud enough to alert anyone in the area to your location, and Joel fucking laughs. You know, because the sensation only doubles as he smiles and repeats the slow motion, tongue wrapping around your clit while his mouth slowly follows.

“Sit, baby.” He mumbles into you, and you suck in a breath, still hovering slightly over him. You don’t want to crush the man, but if you hold here any longer your legs will give out.

He doesn’t bother fighting you, just wraps his arms further around your legs and tugs you down, smothering himself between your legs so deep you don’t think he can even breath properly.

He isn’t one for wasting time, his mouth already working you open as his tongue tastes you from the new angle, and you know he looks up at your dazed expression because his nose brushes against your clit. You cry out again, and there’s a loud smack before you realise it’s his hands grabbing at your ass again, holding you down.

He groans, and it’s amazing you hear it over your own desperate little noises. It’s impossible to be quiet, Joel downright devouring every inch of you, and you have no choice but to just sit there and let him. It’s fucking earth shattering— your knuckles going white as they tighten around the wooden frame of the headboard. His tongue slides through your folds again, and when he finds that sensitive spot again, your hips buck against his face.

“Yeah— fuck. That’s it.” You hear him say, and then he’s sending an entirely new wave of pleasure up your spine, leaving you breathless for anything else but his name.

“Joel. Joel!” You say in a higher tone than you thought possible. He just groans into you again. The soft scratch of his beard against your thighs is dull compared to the sharpness of the pleasure jabbing you closer and closer to the edge.

His tongue wraps around your clit, the warmth of his mouth making your already limited vision blur into nothing, and then you all but collapse into the headboard in front of you. You don’t know if he can breathe, but he’s holding you so tightly to him and eating you out with such fucking aggression that you don’t even think he cares. He drives you crazy— switching between lapping at your core and fucking you with his mouth, never seeming to decide on a way he wants to taste you, and all it does is bring you to your peak and yank you back just as you’re about to fall.

He knows what he’s doing, too. He loves hearing it in your voice— when you pant all brokenly, when you beg him to give you something, anything, when you offer whatever he asks as long as he just lets you cum. You know what he wants to hear, and at this point, with his tongue inside of you, you’d give him whatever. Whatever he asked for.

“Joel— p-please. I can’t…” You whine as he begins to slow down again, and you can feel that ember of orgasm still alight, growing dimmer and dimmer as he pulls away. “Joel! Joel, fucking hell— please!”

“Shh, baby. It’s okay— you’re so fucking gorgeous like this.” He soothes, his hands going soft as they knead at your hips. “You taste too good, sweet thing. Got me distracted. You just want to cum for me, don’t you?”

“P-please…” It’s fucking pathetic, and he laughs, but this time it’s not as mocking.

“Good girl. Such a good girl, aren’t you?” Incoherent babbles fill the small room in your voice as he returns his mouth to you, but not before he spits into your pussy, and lets you hear just how wet you are for him and only him.

When he flattens his tongue and lets you ride his face, you know he won’t stop this time. He’s all encouragement— hands pushing your hips to grind on him, focusing his mouth on the parts he knows make you cum quick and easy when it’s him, and he’s groaning so much you think he’s enjoying this just as much as you are.

Just as you think you’re going to cum, one of his hands disappear. You only feel it because it gives you just enough room to sink lower and practically trap Joel under your legs. You look over your shoulder and see him fist his cock in his hand, and that’s what pushes you over.

You let the pleasure wash over you, any concern about your weight on top of his face melting away as an intense heat strokes up and down your entire body, making your toes curl. It’s too intense to stay upright, your chest falling forward into the headboard, and Joel mutters something but you’re too blissed out to hear it.

Your hands begin to hurt with how hard your gripping the split wood, and when you let go you nearly collapse over him. Thankfully, Joel has shuffled up slightly so his head is on the pillows, so as your legs give out you land more towards you chest. He catches you easily and helps you lay back down, your legs completely numb as he tangles you back into him and the sheets.

His face nuzzles yours, nose against your cheek as he peppers kisses in its wake. When you turn to kiss him, you can taste yourself on his tongue, and your body shudders again, the aftershocks of one of the most intense orgasms you’ve ever had still racketing your limp body.

When you gain back all your consciousness, you can feel how hard Joel’s breathing is as he ticks you back against him, similar to how you started the night. At first, you think you must have suffocated him, but when he pushes his leg between your thighs, you feel the absence of boxers, and then you realise.

“Joel, did you—“

“Shh.” He mumbles into your hair and kisses the top of your head, and you can’t help but feel warm all over again. You shut your eyes, picturing the image you have of his hand slipping under his boxers, jacking off to the sight and feeling of giving you head. “Sleep, baby. Long ride home tomorrow.”

You hum in agreement, but every time you close your eyes, it’s all you can see. Biting your lip, you slip your arm over his waist, tugging him closer.

When you feel him harden against your stomach, you don’t think either of you will be sleeping much tonight.

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller smut #joel miller fluff #joel miller fic #pedro pascal #the last of us

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queenie-ofthe-void · 19 days ago

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A Very Hopper Holidays

Hopper POV || wc: 3.7k || tags: smoking, recreational drugs, grouchy old men dealing with their feelings, smart-ass Eddie Munson, meet-cute Steddie, Steve and Max siblings, El thinks Steve is cute (so does Eddie), emotionally available Wayne Munson gives the best advice, holiday fluff, found family

This is a companion piece to my fic The Babysitter Chronicles, but can be read separately!

Brief background: Wayne patched Steve up after his fight with Billy in s2

Hopper’s freezing his goddamn balls off out here, waiting on the front stoop in the dark, banging his fist on the door. There’s no answer, but the lights are all on and it’s dinnertime on Christmas Eve. So someone’s fucking home, and the sooner they answer the sooner he can leave.

“Dammit, Wayne. Open the door so I can give you a damn present, or next time I pick up your nephew maybe I throw him in jail for the night instead of bringing him home.”

Sure enough, the door flies open, but it’s not Wayne on the other side. The kid’s standing there, layered in enough flannel shirts and sweatpants to dress all of El’s shithead friends with some left over. Hopper watches as he drags the sleeve of an oversized black flannel across his red and dripping nose, shifting uncomfortably and eyes darting side to side.

“Munson,” Hopper crosses his arms, “where the hell’s your uncle?”

Even bundled up like a little kid, he still tries to make himself bigger, taller, meaner, like he always does when Hopper picks him up. “Not here.” The tone is flat, devoid of Munson’s usual snark as a particularly intense gust of wind slams the screen door open against the side of the trailer.

“It’s Christmas eve, what do you mean he’s not here?”

“He’s working.”

Hopper scoffs. “You’re telling me your uncle works Christmas eve?”

Munson scoffs back at him, a dramatic mockery of Hopper’s own tone. “We’re Jewish, asshole.”

Well, shit.

He doesn’t have time for the kid’s hardass act. All he wanted to do was drop off a simple thank you and also merry christmas but now probably happy hanukkah gift and be on his way to his own family. He can only hope El spares him a bit of holiday mercy for making her wait.

“Kid, can I just come in?” He takes another step up, only for Munson to block his path.

His eyes grate across Hopper’s jacket, noting the star on the chest. “No cops in the trailer.”

A low grumble forces its way up Hopper’s throat which breaks into a frustrated groan when another gust of wind scrapes the exposed skin on his cheeks. He stamps his feet on the stairs hoping it’ll keep the blood flow going to his toes as they start to tingle. Munson’s wrapped his hands up inside the sleeves of what’s most likely one of Wayne’s old jackets.

“Look,” Eddie starts, sniffling another drip back inside his nose, “if you could just–”

But Hopper cuts him off with a deranged laugh, head thrown back in dismay at this entire situation. “No, you look here. You’re going to listen to exactly what I have to say.”

Eddie’s taken a step back, and yeah, Hopper supposes he’s never seen the Chief of Police actually freak out before. But it’s been a long day of wellness checks and stove fires, and Eddie’s the only thing standing between him and a night of kid’s Christmas movies and spiked eggnog.

So he pushes forward, spurred on by the kid’s once-in-a-lifetime stunned silence. “Now it’s clear that Wayne’s working nights, probably earning holiday hours to pay for the radiator which is pretty obviously busted, given the ten to twenty shirts you’re wearing. Meaning you’re alone, in a tin box with a tiny space heater that’s so old it’s a fire hazard shoved into the corner of your room.” The Chief walks up the stairs, standing on the step just before the door so he’s towering over Eddie, who shrinks in on himself just a bit.

“Here’s what’s going to happen, Munson.” Hopper ticks off each gloved finger as his list of demands grows, Eddie’s growing wider in time. “You’re going to let me inside so I can piss and blow my nose, since I’ve been standing out here for too fucking long. You’re going to pack a bag, you’re going to call your uncle, and you’re going to tell him you’re staying with me for the night.”

Eddie stammers, mouth flapping around words he can’t find fast enough. It doesn’t matter, because Hopper’s on a roll now.

“Then,” he steamrolls Eddie again, pushing his way into the trailer, closing the door as Eddie stumbles backwards down onto the couch, “you’re going to eat my food, you’re going to watch our movies, you’re going to smile when we smile and laugh when we laugh because even if you’re Jewish you can still have a damn good fucking Christmas eve!”

He’s sick and tired of stupid teenage boys trying to be something they aren’t, like they’re manly or tough or strong for barely surviving on their own, practically raising themselves. And the best way Hopper can drill that into their thick skulls is to get them to shut the fuck up and feed them.

The silence lingers on the frost coating the inside of the windows and the crust of dried snot on Eddie’s sleeve. The kid’s avoiding eye contact, like Hopper will just leave if he’s ignored. But if Hopper can outlast guards in the POW camp, and a little girl who hates green beans, then he can sure as hell outlast Eddie goddamn Munson. So Hopper waits. And waits.

It pays off, like he knew it would. The kid gets up, storms towards one end of the trailer. Hopper slowly follows down the narrow hallway and sees Eddie viciously shoving rumpled clothes into a backpack, mumbling about pigs and asshole cops.

After all’s said and done, they’re pulling up to the cabin about twenty minutes later. The front door opens with a bang in greeting, causing Eddie to jump out of his skin. But when they step through the now open door into the warmth of the living room, there’s no one there to greet them.

Ah, so she’s a little upset.

El’s door is closed, like it’s not supposed to be. Light shines out from underneath, and he can hear soft voices inside. The whispers are abruptly hushed when he knocks on her door. “El, honey, I need you to open the door. Six inches, remember?” Hopper tries turning the handle but it doesn’t budge. Honestly he can’t help but wonder why he bothered to install a door with no lock when she’s got superpowers– that’s on him, he supposes.

He turns around to find Munson standing awkwardly in the middle of the living room. “Take your jacket off, put your shit down, and stay a while, will ya?” Hopper laughs at Eddie’s incredulous expression, eyebrows scrunched together and lips pursed tight.

“Ok,” Eddie drags the sound out in question as he sets his pack next to the couch, “who opened the fucking door?”

“Hey, language!" Hopper calls, Max’s voice echoing his own.

Eddie startles, head whipping between Hopper’s no-doubt exasperated expression and El’s still-closed bedroom door. He drags his hands down his face and sighs as her mimicry sends the girls into a fit of giggles. He hasn’t decided yet if Max is a good influence on El, even if Hopper knows it’s not himself she’s mocking.

He hears the creak of the bathroom door opening as Steve walks back into the living room. Hopper can’t help but turn to watch the show, the two boys coming face to face.

Munson’s oversized black and red flannel covers the ripped sleeves of whatever tattered, black band t-shirt he’s wearing. Which would be on par with what he normally looks like, except it’s contrasted against bright blue, wool pajama pants with little white snowflakes on them. When Hopper first spotted them at the trailer, a teasing smirk on his face, Munson only rolled his eyes and argued they were the warmest clean pair he had.

Harrington, on the other hand, has lived his entire life in locker rooms and an empty house. Which means that he once again forgot to bring a shirt to change into after his shower. It's not normally a problem-- except when El catches him, a blush lighting up her face like a goddamn Christmas tree, accompanied by incessant giggles that make Hopper want to drown himself.

What is a problem is Munson’s shameless gawking, mouth wide enough to catch a whole swarm of flies. His blush puts El's to shame, red blotches burst across his neck like hives. Hopper can practically see the steam rolling out of the guy’s ears, hearts popping out of his eyes as he just stares and stares his fill, completely unaware that Hopper’s still standing less than five feet from him.

Thankfully, so far Steve is none the wiser. He’s got a cotton swab in his ear, head tipped down as he double-knots his Tigersharks swim team sweatpants. Hopper notices they hang baggy and loose around his hips. Another shitty reminder of how much weight the kid’s lost since getting kicked off the team because of his ‘incident’ with Hargrove. He wonders about the last time the kid ate a decent meal, and pushes down the rising anger at the most realistic answer, which is not recent enough for his liking. Hopper has the same gnawing concern when he looks back at Munson, dark circles under his eyes, skinny as a bean-pole.

He’s got to stop taking in strays.

“Harrington, we’ve talked about this.” Hop tries to keep the frustration out of his voice, but if he has to watch El swoon over the kid’s wet hair and bare chest again he’s gonna blow a gasket. “Put a damn shirt on.”

“Oh, yeah sorry, Hop.” Which is the exact moment Steve decides to turn his head. They both catch Munson giving Steve a once over, who then chokes on his own spit when he notices Steve looking back at him. Hopper knows Harrington’s trying to turn over a new leaf, but he also knows the kind of people Richard and Helen Harrington are. So he’s a little surprised when, instead of having to stop a potential hate crime, he notices a similar blush bloom across Steve’s chest– or maybe it’s the heat from the shower.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Muson’s screech is so high it could set dogs howling. Steve flinches at the outburst, and Hopper hopes this little interaction doesn’t trigger another migraine for the kid. He was barely pushing through when Hop picked him up yesterday, but seems to be feeling better today.

“Munson, I need you to tone it down,” Hopper argues. It goes unnoticed.

Steve’s sputtering. He runs a nervous hand through his hair and of-fucking-course Munson gasps, swoons just like El. Harrington’s free hand fumbles for a shirt hem that isn’t there. He realizes he’s half naked and turns into a deer in headlights, hands frantically moving over his chest like he doesn’t know how to hide himself. Unfortunately the unintentional groping sends Munson into a coughing fit.

“Me? What the hell are you doing here, Munson?”

Munson scoffs, crossing his arms as he backs himself into the wall behind him. “The high and mighty Chief of Police here basically kidnapped me. Forced me to pack a bag and tossed me into his truck.” Ah, there’s the Munson he expected. Except if it wasn’t for how many times Hopper’s hauled the kid in, he might not have noticed the nervous energy in Eddie’s twitchy fingers and shifty eyes. “He failed to mention–” he waves around at everything until Munson’s wild gesturing lands on a half-naked, sweats hung low, hair slicked back, barefoot Steve Harrington.

The squeal of El’s door opening behind him propels Hopper full-speed into the living room towards Steve’s duffle. He pulls out the first shirt he manages to find. It hits Steve in the face, and they both breathe a sigh of relief when he pulls it on.

“Aww,” El complains, before her eyes grow ten sizes too big when she catches Hopper glaring back at her.

“Who the hell is this guy?” Max asks. She makes her way toward the kitchen, dragging El with her to help pull out dishes and cups.

“Apparently another kidnapping victim.” Steve huffs, annoyed, before making his way over to the girls. “Munson, get over here and help me set the food out.”

Steve doesn’t even look up from where he’s pulling a large cast iron out of the oven, so he misses the absolutely priceless distress scrawled into Eddie’s bulging eyes and flapping hands. Looking back and forth between Harrington and Hopper, Eddie points to himself in confusion as if Steve hadn’t asked him by name. Hopper can only chuckle at the kid’s antics. He rolls his eyes and tilts his head toward the kitchen so Munson finally gets the jist, moving across the cabin in double-time.

It’s a more intense Christmas dinner than Hopper was hoping for, but after introductions and a full stomach, everyone’s relaxed a bit. El and Max curl up on the couch next to him, snuggled under the same blanket surrounded by bowls of popcorn and half eaten bags of candy. The boys, finally over whatever awkward tension laced between them earlier, are sitting rather comfortably next to each other, poking fun at the cliche holiday movies that Hopper secretly enjoys.

Well after the girls are tucked in and the boys have set up a mess of sleeping bags and blankets on the living room floor, Hopper moves quiet as a mouse across the trailer to Eddie’s duffle. After a quick search, he pulls a joint from a hidden zipper pocket hand-sewn inside the lining.

Kid must think he’s so smart, like he’s the first guy to ever sell drugs.

Hopper deserves a little treat after all the shit he’s been through this year. It’s been ages since he’s smoked, and with the boys here to help watch over the kids, he thinks he can allow himself time to relax for just a little bit. He’s earned it. Plus, it’s not his fault the damned kid decided to try to sneak his stash here. Hop’s not an idiot, even though the boys clearly thought so when they went out for some ‘fresh air’ earlier and came back looking a little less fresh than when they left.

So he brushes the snow off of his favorite lawn chair, wraps himself up in a tattered old blanket, and lights up in the cold, winter air.

Hop loved smoking in high school, so he takes a long inhale, reveling in the burn heating his chest. Unfortunately, Hopper hasn’t been a teenager in a long, long time. His coughing fit is loud enough to wake his non-existent neighbors. But when he can finally breathe fresh air again, there’s no noise to be heard from inside.

He goes slower this time, tugging on little puffs as he watches the snow fall between the pine trees. It’s quiet, a good quiet, filled with the rustling of rabbits in the brush and bugs singing in the night. Even the joint is absolute shit, like most of Munson’s wares. It’s still enough for him to relax, to appreciate what unfortunate circumstances have gifted him, and keep him from dwelling on what he’s lost.

Less than an hour’s passed when a pair of headlights shine down the drive. Wayne steps out of his beat-up truck, in only slightly better condition than Eddie’s van, and makes his way over. Without a word, Hopper gets up and grabs another folding chair propped against the end-railing and sets it next to his own.

The joint’s gone by now, but Hopper pulls out a pack of smokes and offers one to Wayne, who silently takes it with just a slight nod of his head in thanks. Out of the corner of his eye, Hopper notices Wayne’s worn-down work boots have a gash at the front, exposing the hard steel underneath the suede. He’s wearing a large, thick flannel that looks exactly like the one Eddie was wearing when Hopper found him, and it’s just as oversized on the old man.

There’s almost nothing similar between Wayne and his nephew. Wayne’s always been a quiet one. A guy who’d make his way to the back of a crowded room, who kept his head down when he knew what was good for him. And Eddie is– is really just something else. Loud, obnoxious, brash, a kid with a well-crafted personality faker than government coverup. Almost one of a kind, if Hopper didn’t happen to know another boy just like him.

Wayne clears his throat, stubs out the bud with his boot in a little pile of snow. “Got a note from my foreman saying you kidnapped my boy.” His tone is gruff, but Hopper catches the small uptick to the man’s chapped lips.

He doesn’t say anything when Hopper heads inside. It takes him a minute to find the wrapped bottle and two glasses. While he meanders around, he checks that the boys are still both snoring away and the girls are sound asleep amidst a pile of stuffed animals.

When he closes the front door behind him, Jim hands the bottle to Wayne and sets the two glasses into the snow between them. Wayne hums in thought, turning the bottle over in his hand. “Macallen single?”

Jim actually croaks, chest light and filled with laughter when he clocks the mirth in Wayne’s teasing eyes. Maybe him and Eddie aren’t so different after all, both having a shithead sense of humor.

“Just Johnny.” Jim wipes a hand down his face like that’ll hide the sincerity in his smile. “You helped patch up my kid, Wayne. You didn’t save the goddamn world.”

The light in Wayne’s eyes dims only slightly. Instead of unwrapping the bottle, he unscrews the lid off the top, ripping the paper off with it, and pours them both half a glass. They silently cheers, even though the air between them has shifted slightly.

“Thought that boy was a Harrington, not a Hopper.” It should sting, but it doesn’t, because Wayne’s not that type of man. It’s a genuine question, one that Jim’s not sure how to answer. So he keeps silent, hoping Wayne will cave and move on like his kid does when things stay too quiet. But Wayne sits, and sits, and his own gut finally starts to roil. Ah, so that's what it feels like.

“Apparently I’m good at picking up strays.” Jim’s attempt at a joke falls flat between them. He pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs. “Although, I think I got to Harrington a little too late.”

Wayne takes a decent sip from his glass, smacking his lips together. He peers out into the dark, just beyond the porch railing. But Jim can tell he’s not looking at the woods in front of them or the starry sky overhead. Wayne’s looking at something that’s long behind him.

“Ya know, Harrington didn’t look much different than my boy did when he showed up lookin’ like a dropped sack of peaches. Just a little thing he was; no hair, clothes that didn’t fit. Hell, I’d almost been able to see his ribs if it weren't for the bruises.” Wayne’s looking down at his feet now, scuffing the snow off the bottom of his boots. He downs his glass in one go before pouring himself another.

“I beat myself up for too long for not doing something sooner. My own nephew, my own brother, livin’ only two towns over, and I had no idea it was that bad. Told m’self over and over that I should’ve known, should’ve helped sooner.” Wayne heaves a heavy sigh before looking up at Jim again. There’s guilt in the crinkles around his eyes, but it’s quickly replaced with resolve. “You might not’ve always been there for the Harrington kid, but that don’t mean he don’t need you now. Maybe more than ever, by the look of him. And if he’s got you watchin’ out for him, maybe he’ll turn out more Hopper than Harrington afterall.”

Jim can’t take the intense eye contact anymore and firmly looks away, finishing his glass and extending it out to Wayne for a refill. It’s quiet, Wayne’s patience sitting on his shoulders like the world’s most uncomfortable blanket. But even blankets that are scratchy as hell can still be warm.

After a while, the silence releases enough tension that he can sit back again, and the two men slowly sip their whiskey and watch dawn break through the trees. Wayne grabs the bottle as he moves to stand and pats Jim’s shoulder a little too hard. The man’s stronger than he looks.

“Why don’t you bring Eddie back yourself a little bit later, give me a chance to fix that radiator. Plus, being around Harrington might be good for him,” he chuckles to himself, hopping into his truck. “Maybe show the boy not every kid who don’t wear all black ain’t a damn conformist suburban yuppie.” Jim laughs, Wayne’s mockery a spot on impression.

All’s still quiet in the cabin, each kid right where he left them. He’s not sure if it’s the joint, the two whiskeys, Wayne’s advice, or just a combination of everything, but there’s a heat behind his eyes he hasn’t had to deal with in a long time. He’s not typically a crier– happy or sad. The only time he’s cried since Sarah was in the elevator shaft, El collapsed in his arms just after closing the gate. And even then, it was only a few stray tears.

Now he’s unspooling wads of toilet paper to blow his damn nose in, crying like a kid who got coal in their stocking. Except this isn’t like when he thought he’d lost El, or when he’d held Sarah’s hand when she took her last breath. Jim Hopper’s happier than he’s been in a long, long time. And after the shit awful year he’s had– that they’ve all had– he lets himself revel in the joy of having a family again.

Gorgeous graphics provided by @steddiecameraroll-graphics

And as always, thank you to @carolperkinsexgirlfriend for telling me "I think your calling might be writing well-meaning, grumpy old men" and also, "you just understand the spirit of The Old Man", but mostly just thank you for being an amazing beta reader <3

#I loved writing this!!!!! So much fun to channel Grouchy Old Man energy #This is full of excessive holiday fluff #Couldn't wait until the 24th to post this I got WAY to excited to share it #please believe me when I say this can be read separate from the fic itself. don't let that deprive you of Hopper having Feelings #jim hopper #hopper pov #steve harrington #eddie munson #wayne munson #max mayfield #el hopper #steddie #holiday fic #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things s2

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revelboo · 3 months ago

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Just wanted to send the good vibes and motivation your way! Love your writings so much! I hope you're able to keep going 😊❤️ I'm loving your Starscream, Ratchet, and Jazz fics but seeing a notif from you makes my day regardless!! 🐸💕

I’m still kind of surprised you guys like my nonsense so much, since this was mostly just me reminding myself that I’m supposed to be writing for fun by having a place away from my serious projects to get my mojo back when I’m mentally drained.

Everything is Alright Pt 25

Starscream x Reader

• Rolling lazily through the clouds, his attention divided between Thundercracker and Skywarp following in his wake and you, he banks too sharply when Skywarp cuts near. “Where are we even going?” Skywarp demands, sullen and bored.

• “We’re on patrol,” he growls back, bristling at the question to his authority. And patrol is a broad term. One with some leeway. While they typically only monitored the airspace around the base, he wanted to range further today. His thoughts keep circling back to you.

• That look on your face when you’d thanked him. It’s been there in the back of his processor all rotation. That smile that was his alone. Distracting him from his duties. Because there are human houses everywhere. Full of strange human things that you might like. That might make you smile for him again.

• He drops from the skies, turbines screaming and after only a small hesitation, the rest of his trine follows. Swooping down on a small house out in the woods away from the towns and cities. Isolated.

• Fisting the hem of your ugly, granny dress, you almost wish you had a mirror just so you can see how bad it is. It’s shapeless, covered in floral print and covers you from the neck to your ankles. But it’s still better than being naked. Marginally better anyway. When the door opens, you turn around smiling. Because he likes it when you do, but also because you want to, you realize. You look forward to seeing him and when has that happened?

• Hands cupped together, his wings flick when he find you on his desk. Waiting for him. Happy to see him. Something eases inside him as he holds down his hands and waits. “You were gone longer today,” you say as you come to him, eyes shifting from his hands to his optics. Worried about him? He taps the side of his hands on the desk.

• “Not even a little curious?” He asks you, tone low and almost teasing. He obviously has something in his hands, but this is new. A game, maybe? You reach up, gripping one servo with both hands and trying to pry it loose so you can see what he has. Apparently that’s the reaction he wants, he chuckles and vents, the warm air stirring your hair. “Don’t want it?” He’s messing with you. Playing. It’s so out of character you’re momentarily surprised, your heart speeding because he’s smiling indulgently down at you and it’s so unlike him. Has he ever really smiled? Not a grin or a smirk, but something real?

• For a moment you hesitate, then you pout up at him and his resolve crumbles. Opening his hands, he spreads out the pile of human things he’s found for you. Waiting for that delighted smile. For the thank you. But you’re silent, reaching and pulling something from the pile. He’s brought you soft things, colorful things. It’s a plush little fake animal you choose, your little hands trembling as you smooth your fingertips over its head from its button nose to an ear. Your shoulders hunch, fingers tightening on the gift, but not smiling. Not happy and his wings begin to tremble, that tightly leashed anger building through him. “No one was home, right?” You ask, voice breaking.

Previous Next

#transformers #starscream x reader #idw starscream #transformers x reader

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syluslnd · 3 months ago

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hello! can i request heavy angst with sylus and mc? like them never officially being in a relationship but clearly belonging to eachother, keeping a love-hate slowburn dynamic so it's nothing knew when they fight, but one day they get into a really bad, heated argument. out of anger sylus says something he immediately regrets and mc leaves (also out of anger) but something happens and they don't come back. (you can decide if it's happy ending or not)! thank you in advance!

house of cards

word count 5.6k

tags- angst no comfort,verbal insults ,death,dead dove,grieving

──── ୨୧ ────

The night was cool and the dim streetlights of Onychinus cast long shadows over the pavement. You waited outside one of Sylus’s known hideouts, a secluded bar where his lieutenants often gathered. It had become routine—waiting.

You leaned against the rough stone wall, arms crossed, trying to calm the growing frustration. He hadn’t reached out in days and when he did, it was for one thing—hooking up, nothing more, nothing less. Every time you tried to talk about something real, something deeper, he deflected with that arrogant smirk or one of his quick dismissals.

It was driving you mad. You wanted more than the casual, heated exchanges. But how could you demand more from someone who wouldn’t even admit what you were to him?

Footsteps echoed behind you and you straightened, turning to see Sylus approaching, his tall frame cutting through the dim light like a shadow. He looked as composed as ever, eyes sharp and calculating. You couldn’t deny the way your heart raced at the sight of him but the growing anger inside kept you from softening.

“You’ve been busy” you muttered as he stopped in front of you, crossing your arms tighter over your chest.

Sylus raised a brow, his expression unreadable. “What can I say, sweetie? I run an empire. It keeps me occupied.” His tone was casual, indifferent, like he wasn’t fazed by your clear annoyance.

“That’s the problem” you shot back, your voice edged with frustration. “You’re always ‘occupied.’ When was the last time we spent more than an hour together without it turning into some… thing? It’s like you don’t even care unless we’re in bed.”

He chuckled softly, though there was a sharpness behind it. “You’re upset because I’m busy? You knew what this was.”

His dismissiveness was the last straw. “Is that all this is to you?” you asked, your voice rising. “Just something casual whenever you feel like it?”

Sylus’s expression darkened slightly, his calm demeanor still intact but there was something colder in his eyes now. “You’re making this bigger than it is.”

Your chest tightened. How could he be so dismissive? You weren’t asking for the world just… something more than this half-life with him. “Bigger than it is? Sylus, you barely talk to me unless you want something. I’m tired of feeling like an afterthought. I deserve more than that.”

For a moment, his expression softened but it was fleeting. He stepped closer, his hand reaching for your chin, lifting your gaze to meet his. “What do you want from me?” His voice was low, almost dangerously calm. “I’m not the kind of man who makes promises. You know that. But you’re still here.”

You pulled away from his touch, the sting of his words echoing in your mind. “I don’t know how much longer I can be” you admitted, your voice quieter now, the weight of it hitting both of you.

Sylus watched you pull away, a flicker of something passing through his eyes—annoyance maybe or something deeper that he wasn’t about to show. He sighed, running a hand through his hair before dropping it back to his side.

“Fine” he said, voice laced with irritation “I’ll make it up to you. Let’s go out. Will that make you happy?” His words felt more like an obligation than a genuine apology, as if he were doing you a favor by even suggesting it.

You scoffed lightly, the apology clearly lacking any sincerity. “Really, Sylus? An apology and an offer to go out, just like that? You think that’s enough?”

He rolled his eyes, the sharpness of his usual calm starting to crack just a little. “You’re not making this easy. I’m trying here.” There was a slight edge to his voice but his gaze softened for a moment. “So, where do you want to go?”

You bit back the retort that almost escaped, knowing pushing too far too fast wouldn’t get either of you anywhere. “The arcade. I want to go to the arcade” you said, watching him closely.

Sylus’s expression shifted and for a second, the irritation returned. He didn’t hide the slight frown tugging at his lips. “An arcade?” he repeated, like the idea was absurd for someone like him. “You want me to take you to a place full of flashing lights and teenagers wasting time?”

A small smile crept onto your face despite the tension. “Yeah, that’s exactly what I want. It’s fun, Sylus. Or have you forgotten how to have fun?”

His eyes narrowed, clearly not amused by the teasing. But then, after a pause he sighed again this time more resigned. “Fine. If that’s what you want.”

It wasn’t much of an apology and you could tell he was annoyed but there was something in the way he relented that caught you off guard. Sylus was many things—cold, ruthless, always in control—but every now and then you caught these small moments where it seemed like he was trying, even if he didn’t fully understand why.

“Thank you” you said, keeping your voice soft but not letting the gratitude carry too much weight. You didn’t want him to think everything was forgiven just because he agreed to one date. “We’ll go tomorrow, okay?”

He glanced at you, something unreadable in his gaze. “Sure. Tomorrow.”

You nodded, the awkward silence hanging between you like a thin thread. You didn’t know if you should say more or if this was one of those moments where you just let things settle. Sylus turned away but just before he walked off, his hand brushed yours—light, almost hesitant. It was a fleeting touch, gone before you could react but it lingered all the same.

The neon lights from the arcade spilled out onto the busy street, reflecting off the windows as people moved in and out, laughing and shouting over the sound of the games inside. You stood near the entrance, arms crossed, glaring at your phone. Sylus was late again. It wasn’t like this was a surprise—he was always late—but today, it stung more than usual. You had put effort into this. You wanted to have fun, just once, without all the complications. But, of course, Sylus had to ruin that by being Sylus.

You checked your phone again. 30 minutes late.

Your jaw clenched, anger boiling just beneath the surface. This wasn’t just about tonight—it was about all the other times he brushed you off, made you wait, or treated you like something he could pick up and drop whenever he felt like it. You were tired of being patient, tired of pretending it didn’t bother you when it did.

The sound of footsteps behind you caught your attention and you didn’t need to look to know it was him. Sylus always had a presence—a certain energy that shifted the air around him. Still, you didn’t turn right away, letting him stand there for a moment while you seethed in silence.

“Sorry I’m late, sweetheart” Sylus’s voice came smooth as ever, carrying that casual arrogance that drove you mad. You could feel his gaze on you, waiting for you to respond. “Business, you know how it is.”

You slowly turned to face him, the anger barely contained as you stared him down. “You’re thirty minutes late, Sylus.”

He tilted his head, his smirk teasing. “I thought you’d be used to it by now.”

That infuriating smirk—it was enough to make you want to scream. But this wasn’t the place. You were surrounded by kids, teenagers, people who didn’t know the kind of world Sylus lived in. You couldn’t make a scene, not here, even though every nerve in your body begged you to let loose.

“I’m tired of it” you said quietly, your voice sharp but low, careful not to draw too much attention. “You’re always late. It’s like you don’t even care.”

He stepped closer, his height casting a shadow over you but it wasn’t his size that had your heart racing. It was the way he looked at you, like he could see through every wall you put up and worse like he found it amusing. “You’re cute when you’re mad.”

You narrowed your eyes, refusing to let him distract you with his charm. “Don’t start with that. You think showing up late and calling me ‘cute’ is going to make this better?”

Sylus’s eyes glinted and he leaned in slightly, his voice lowering just enough that only you could hear him. “You’re still here, aren’t you?”

There it was. That casual confidence the way he twisted every situation in his favor and the worst part? He was right. You were still here. But it wasn’t because you didn’t have enough self-respect to walk away—it was because, despite everything, some part of you still wanted this. Wanted him.

“You think I’m just going to let it slide every time?” you shot back, your voice barely above a whisper, trying to maintain your composure in public.

He chuckled softly that rich, deep sound that sent a shiver down your spine despite your anger. “You’ll let it slide because you want to be here with me. Don’t pretend otherwise.”

Your pulse quickened as his words hit deeper than you’d like to admit. He wasn’t wrong but that didn’t make it any less frustrating. You swallowed, trying to keep control of the emotions that were bubbling dangerously close to the surface.

“I wanted us to have a normal night” you muttered, glancing away to avoid his piercing gaze. “Just one night where we didn’t have to deal with your… business. But you couldn’t even show up on time.”

For a brief moment, something shifted in Sylus’s expression—something softer, almost like regret. But it was gone just as quickly, replaced by that familiar teasing smirk. “I’m here now. Isn’t that what matters?”

You looked at him, searching for any sign that he really cared, that he wasn’t just saying what he thought you wanted to hear. But Sylus was a master at hiding his true feelings. He could be teasing one second and dangerous the next, always keeping you guessing.

“You don’t get it, do you?” you said, shaking your head in disbelief. “It’s not about you being here now. It’s about everything. About the way you treat me like an afterthought, like I’m only here when it’s convenient for you.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly unbothered by your words. “You’re making this way too complicated, sweetheart.”

You clenched your fists, taking a deep breath to calm the storm brewing inside. “Maybe it’s not that complicated to want someone who actually gives a damn.”

Sylus smirked again, stepping closer until there was barely any space between you. “I give enough of a damn to be here, don’t I?”

His closeness was overwhelming, his presence suffocating yet intoxicating at the same time. You hated how easily he could pull you in, how his words—no matter how frustrating—always had a way of making you second-guess yourself. But you couldn’t let him win this time.

“Being here isn’t enoug” you whispered, your voice tense with emotion. “I need more than that.”

He studied you for a moment, his gaze lingering on your face, as if considering his next move. Then, with a soft, almost mocking chuckle, he brushed a stray piece of hair from your face, his fingers barely grazing your skin. “You’re something else, you know that?”

You didn’t respond, biting your lip to keep the tears that were building up from spilling. You weren’t going to cry—not here, not in front of him. But the way he looked at you, like he could see every crack in your armor, made it hard to keep your emotions at bay.

After a long pause, he sighed, though it sounded more like annoyance than sympathy. “Alright, fine. I’ll make it up to you. We’re here now, let’s just enjoy the night,okay kitten”

You wanted to scream at him, to tell him that ‘enjoying the night’ wasn’t enough to fix what was broken between you two. But instead, you just nodded, knowing full well that this wasn’t the time or place for a real argument.

“Yeah” you muttered, your voice hollow. “Let’s enjoy the night.”

You stood in front of the claw machine, gripping the joystick harder than necessary, your eyes narrowed in concentration. The bright, colorful stuffed animals inside were taunting you, mocking your every failed attempt to grab one. You had already wasted several coins and each time the claw just slipped off the prize at the last second, your frustration only grew.

Sylus leaned against the machine behind you, his arms crossed and a smirk dancing on his lips. You could feel his gaze on you and it wasn’t helping your mood. You were still pissed—at him, at his nonchalant attitude, at the whole situation.

“Having trouble sweetie?” Sylus asked, his voice laced with amusement.

You didn’t answer, your jaw clenched as you maneuvered the claw over a plush toy that looked easy enough to grab. You hit the button, watching as the claw descended… only for it to fumble and drop the toy yet again. You cursed under your breath, stepping back from the machine in frustration.

Behind you, Sylus chuckled softly, clearly entertained by your struggle. “You know, you might be better at this if you weren’t so mad.”

“Shut up” you muttered, glaring at the machine like it was somehow responsible for your anger.

Sylus pushed himself off the wall, coming to stand beside you. “Let me try.”

You hesitated, not wanting to give him the satisfaction, but eventually stepped aside with a sigh. Sylus slid a coin into the slot, his movements slow and deliberate, as if he wasn’t in any kind of rush. He tilted his head, studying the plush toys inside with a cool, calculating expression—like this was some kind of challenge he needed to win just to prove a point.

He moved the joystick with ease, barely paying attention and then pressed the button. You watched as the claw descended, grabbed a stuffed bear and successfully lifted it up, dropping it neatly into the prize chute without a hitch.

You stared at the bear in disbelief. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Sylus grinned, reaching in to grab the prize. “What can I say? I’m just lucky.”

You rolled your eyes still too annoyed to let it go. “It’s not luck when you don’t even care.”

He handed you the bear, his smirk softening just a little. “Here. Something to remember me by when I’m not around.”

You took the bear reluctantly, not sure whether to be touched or even more irritated. There was something in the way Sylus looked at you in that moment, though—a fleeting softness, like he was enjoying being here with you, even if he didn’t say it outright.

For a few minutes, it was almost… normal. You grabbed some drinks from the concession stand and you found yourself relaxing—just a little. The arcade lights, the sound of people laughing and playing games and even Sylus’s teasing remarks all blended into a strange sense of calm. Maybe it wasn’t perfect but it was something.

You took a sip of your drink, glancing at Sylus. “You think you can beat me at air hockey?”

He raised an eyebrow, smirking. “Sweetie you really want to challenge me?”

You shrugged, smiling for the first time since he showed up. “I’m just saying, you won’t win twice in a row.”

Sylus chuckled, shaking his head. “I wouldn’t be so sure about that.”

The banter felt easy, natural even and for the first time in a long while, you were actually having fun with him—laughing, teasing, almost forgetting how mad you were earlier.

But just as you were starting to think the night might turn around, Sylus’s phone rang. You watched as his playful demeanor vanished, replaced by that familiar cold detached look that always came when something serious was happening.

He answered the call, turning away from you slightly but you could still hear bits and pieces of the conversation. It was business, obviously—Onychinus business.

You sighed, already knowing where this was headed.

After a few minutes Sylus hung up, his jaw tight. He didn’t look at you right away, as if he was bracing for your reaction.

“Let me guess” you said, your voice bitter. “You’ve got to go.”

He ran a hand through his hair, glancing at you apologetically. “I’ll make it up to you.”

You stared at him, your earlier frustration flooding back in an instant. “Make it up to me? You said that last time and the time before that.”

Sylus opened his mouth to respond but you cut him off your anger spilling over. “You know what? I’m done hearing your excuses. Every single time we try to do something, you end up bailing. I’m not an afterthought, Sylus.”

His gaze flickered but he remained calm, almost too calm. “It’s not like that—”

“Then what is it like?” you snapped. “Because it sure as hell feels like I’m just something you deal with when it’s convenient.”

He sighed, his patience clearly wearing thin. “You know how this works. I don’t get to choose when I get called.”

“You don’t get to choose?but you also don’t seem to care how it affects me” you shot back. “You always have time for business but never for me.”

Sylus’s jaw clenched and for a second you thought he might snap. But instead he just took a deep breath his voice low and controlled. “I’m trying to keep you out of this. That’s why I don’t bring you into my world more than I already have.”

You laughed bitterly. “Oh, so this is you protecting me? By making me feel like I don’t matter?”

He stepped closer his voice dropping even lower. “You do matter. But I can’t always be there when you want me to be.”

You looked up at him your anger mixing with something else—something closer to hurt. “I don’t need you there all the time, Sylus. I just need you to act like you care.”

For a brief moment his expression softened and you could see something flicker in his eyes—guilt, maybe or regret. But just as quickly as it appeared it was gone, replaced by that same cold distant look he always wore when things got too close, too real.

“I’ll call you later” he said, his tone clipped.

You stared at him in disbelief. “That’s it? That’s all you have to say?”

Sylus hesitated but eventually turned and walked away leaving you standing there your heart sinking as the sound of the arcade faded into the background.

It had been a week. A whole week without so much as a call or a message from Sylus. Each day that passed made your frustration grow until it morphed into a bitter, burning anger.

You knew this wasn't a relationship-he had never promised that. But still, the silence gnawed at you, his dismissive attitude felt like a slap in the face. All the excuses about his work, his responsibilities-none of them felt like enough anymore.

So when you heard a knock at your door and opened it to see Sylus standing there like nothing had happened you felt your blood boil.

“Hey kitten” he said casually, as if the past week hadn’t happened. He leaned against your doorframe his sharp eyes scanning you with a cool detached air. “Haven’t heard from you in a while. You could’ve at least called.”

You stared at him your anger simmering just beneath the surface. How could he be so nonchalant? So unaffected?

You tried to stay calm to hold it together but the way he stood there acting like everything was fine like he hadn’t disappeared without a word set you off. “I could’ve called?” you repeated, your voice shaking with anger. “Are you serious right now?”

Sylus shrugged, his usual smirk playing on his lips. “Yeah sweetie I’ve been busy.”

“Busy?” You felt the anger bubbling over and before you could stop yourself you stepped closer your fists clenched at your sides. “You disappeared for a week, and now you just show up like it’s no big deal? Do you even realize how pissed off I am?”

His gaze flickered with mild amusement as if your anger was some sort of game to him. “You’re always pissed off.”

You glared at him your chest tightening. “Because you give me every reason to be! You act like you don’t even care.”

Sylus chuckled, his eyes softening just slightly as he watched you fume. “You’re so adorable when you’re angry.”

His words were the final straw. You felt tears welling up in your eyes and you hated it—hated that he could make you feel like this, like your anger didn’t matter, like you didn’t matter. He had come here for one thing, and you knew it. That much was obvious by the way he was already moving closer his hand reaching for your waist as if he could just sweep all your anger away with a touch.

But you stepped back, stopping him in his tracks. “No.”

Sylus blinked, surprised by your sudden resistance. “No?”

“I’m not doing this” you said, your voice thick with emotion. “I’m not just going to let you walk in here and act like everything’s fine.”

He stared at you his brow furrowing as if he didn’t quite understand why you were so upset. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about the fact that you don’t give a damn about me” you snapped, your voice cracking as the tears finally spilled over. “You show up when it’s convenient for you, when you want something and I’m just supposed to go along with it? I’m not some toy you can pick up and put down whenever you feel like it, Sylus!”

For the first time Sylus didn’t have a clever comeback. He just stood there his smirk fading his expression hardening into something unreadable and for a moment, just a moment, you thought you saw a flicker of guilt in his eyes.

But then, his phone rang.

Of course.

You watched in disbelief as he pulled out his phone, glancing at the screen with that same detached expression you had grown to hate. He sighed, running a hand through his hair as he looked back at you. “I have to take this.”

“No.” Your voice was low, trembling with barely-contained rage. “You’re not doing this again.”

He paused, his hand hovering over the phone. “I don’t have a choice.”

“You always have a choice” you spat. “You just never choose me.”

Sylus’s jaw tightened but he remained silent his fingers gripping the phone as if it was some kind of lifeline. The phone kept ringing the sound filling the tense space between you like a countdown to something inevitable and that was it. That was the moment you snapped.

“You’re a cold-hearted bastard, you know that?” you said your voice rising as your anger reached its breaking point. “All you care about is your damn job, your stupid mafia game and yourself. You don’t care about me. You never did.”

Something in Sylus’s eyes darkened at your words but you were too far gone to stop now. “You act like you’re so untouchable, like nothing and no one matters to you. Well, guess what, Sylus? You’re not untouchable. You’re just a coward who can’t handle real emotions. You’re pathetic.”

His hand clenched around the phone, his calm exterior cracking just enough for you to see the anger brewing beneath the surface. “Watch it” he warned, his voice low and dangerous.

But you didn’t back down. “No, you watch it. I’m done pretending like this is something it’s not. You show up when you feel like it, you leave whenever you get a call and you expect me to just wait around for you like I don’t have my own life. Well, I’m done. I’m done being your damn convenience.”

Sylus’s eyes narrowed, his voice a deadly whisper. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, I know exactly what I’m talking about” you shot back. “I’m talking about how you treat me like I don’t matter, like I’m just here for your amusement.”

The tension in the room was thick, suffocating and for the first time Sylus didn’t have his usual cocky, unbothered expression. He looked… furious.

And then, in a moment of weakness, you said the words that changed everything. “You know what’s worse? We’re not even a couple. We’re not anything. I’m nothing to you, right? Just some girl you hook up with when you’re bored.”

Sylus’s expression turned cold, ice spreading through his gaze. His voice was quiet but sharp as a knife. “You’re right.”

The air was sucked from your lungs. You stared at him, feeling like the ground had just been ripped out from beneath you. He didn’t even hesitate. He didn’t deny it. He just… confirmed it.

“We’re not a couple” Sylus continued his voice brutally calm. “We never were. You knew what this was from the start.”

You took a step back, your heart pounding in your chest. His words cut deeper than any knife ever could. You had known of course you had known. But hearing him say it out loud, hearing the cold finality in his voice—it broke something inside you.

Tears welled up in your eyes again but this time they weren’t from anger. They were from heartbreak. You couldn’t even look at him anymore. “I hate you” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

Sylus flinched, just slightly but he quickly masked it. “Go ahead, hate me all you want. It doesn’t change anything.”

You stared at him for a moment longer then turned on your heel and stormed out of the apartment. You didn’t care where you were going. You just needed to get away from him, from the pain, from everything.

The night outside was dark and cold the streets of Onychinus dangerous as ever. But you didn’t care. You were too hurt, too broken to care. You just kept walking, your tears blurring your vision as the world around you faded into nothingness.

And Sylus… didn’t follow.

Sylus had been drowning in work. The weight of Onychinus bore down on him heavier than usual. One of his trusted men had been leaking information—details of transactions, routes, even the inner workings of their operations. It was enough to shake the entire foundation he had built over the years.

He couldn’t afford to let this weakness show. Weakness in his world meant death. So he buried himself in the chaos, his mind constantly racing through strategies to tighten his grip on Onychinus, to snuff out the traitor, to keep his empire from crumbling. It consumed him, and every decision he made carried the cold, calculating precision of a leader who couldn’t afford to let his guard down.

But amidst all the chaos, one thing gnawed at the back of his mind—he hadn’t heard from you in days.

Two days. It wasn’t like you to be completely silent, not after the argument that had ended with you storming out, leaving him standing alone in your apartment. At first, he chalked it up to your stubbornness. You were angry.

You had every right to be. He hadn’t cared enough to check in, hadn’t thought to chase after you when you left. After all, that was how it had always been. You would blow up he’d brush it off and eventually things would return to the way they always were.

But something about this time was different. It lingered in the back of his mind like an itch he couldn’t scratch. Something was off.

On the third day, he finally caved. He sent Mephisto, his crow, to find you. It should’ve been easy—Mephisto never failed him. But when the bird came back, empty and restless a knot of dread settled in his chest.

His irritation mounted. He called his men, ordering them to find you. You couldn’t have gone far. He didn’t doubt your ability to survive but Onychinus wasn’t the kind of place you wandered alone for long without catching the wrong kind of attention.

As hours turned into days, his frustration grew. His men scoured the city, checking the places you frequented, talking to the few who might have seen you. But each report came back the same—nothing. No sign of you. No trace.

Until that first discovery.

The message came late in the night. One of his men, pale-faced and visibly shaken approached him in the office. Sylus didn’t look up from the mountain of paperwork, his pen scratching across the page.

“Sylus… we found something”the man stammered.

Sylus’s eyes flicked up cold and unbothered. “Spit it out.”

The man hesitated, shifting on his feet. “It’s… her fingernails, sir.”

A sharp silence followed those words. Sylus stopped mid-sentence his pen freezing in place. Slowly, he set it down, his jaw tightening. He didn’t like what was being implied. He refused to acknowledge it.

“Don’t play games with me” he said, his voice dangerously quiet. “What are you saying?”

The man swallowed stepping forward with a small bag in his trembling hands. Inside, nestled among dirt and blood, were pieces of fingernails—yours.

Sylus stared at the bag, his expression unreadable. Something dark flickered behind his eyes but he didn’t move, didn’t react, except for the faint tightening of his jaw. “This doesn’t prove anything” he said coolly, his voice sharp as glass. “She could’ve broken them off herself.”

The man flinched. “Sir… you know that’s not—”

“I said” Sylus cut him off, his eyes narrowing dangerously “it doesn’t prove anything.”

The man fell silent but the air in the room shifted, thick with unspoken dread. Sylus’s mind raced, the tension creeping into his chest. He refused to believe it. You were too strong, too smart to fall into something like this. But doubt gnawed at him. He crushed it buried it under layers of ice, refusing to let it take root.

Days passed, and more pieces were found. Little by little, pieces of you scattered across Onychinus like breadcrumbs leading to a nightmare he didn’t want to face. A lock of your hair. A fragment of your skin. The reports kept coming and Sylus’s temper grew colder, sharper. He snapped at his men at anyone who dared to mention what they all knew but didn’t dare say out loud.

“She’s fine” Sylus would say whenever another part of you was found, his voice as hard as steel. “You’re all idiots. She’s playing a game. She’ll show up.”

But he knew. Deep down, he knew.

Then came the day they found your head.

The moment Sylus laid eyes on it, something inside him snapped. Your lifeless face, pale and bloodied, with a twisted smile carved across your lips, stared back at him. His hands clenched into fists, trembling with a fury so raw it threatened to consume him. His men stood back none daring to approach knowing full well the storm that was brewing inside their leader.

And then they found the message. It was simple, scrawled in blood across a torn piece of your clothing:

“I’m always watching.”

One of his enemies. The very traitor he had been hunting lurking in the shadows had taken you from him. They had taken the one weakness he never admitted out loud not even to himself. But now, looking at your head—at the cruel mockery of your death, the message taunting him, daring him to act—he couldn’t deny it anymore.

You were his weakness. The one thing that made him feel something other than cold, ruthless control.

And now… you were gone.

For the first time in his life, Sylus felt guilt. Genuine, gut-wrenching guilt. Regret settled in his chest like a poison, choking him, making it hard to breathe. He had pushed you away. He had let his pride, his work, his goddamn arrogance get in the way and now, because of him, you had suffered. You had died. Alone.

His blood boiled, the rage building inside him, so powerful it felt like it would tear him apart from the inside. He wanted to scream, to tear the world apart with his bare hands. But he didn’t. He couldn’t. Sylus couldn’t afford to show that kind of weakness.

Instead, he stood there staring at the message, his jaw clenched so tight it hurt. His fingers twitched, longing to crush something to destroy the people who had done this. But he didn’t move. He was still. Cold. Dead inside.

“Clean it up” he finally said, his voice barely above a whisper but it held a lethal edge. “and get out.”

His men moved quickly, gathering the remains and clearing the area their eyes downcast, none daring to look at him. They knew better.

Sylus stood there, alone, his hands still trembling. For the first time he didn’t feel in control. He didn’t feel like the unshakable, unstoppable leader of Onychinus. He felt… lost. Empty.

He had always told himself that you didn’t matter. That you were just a fling, a distraction. But now, staring at the empty space where your head had been, he realized how wrong he had been.

You had mattered. You had mattered more than anything else in this godforsaken world and now… you were gone.

And it was his fault.

Sylus’s fists clenched, his nails digging into his palms until they bled. His vision blurred with rage, the weight of his mistake crushing him from all sides.

He would make them pay. Every single one of them. He would tear them apart piece by piece, just like they had done to you. He would make them suffer. But no matter how much blood he spilled, no matter how many bodies he left in his wake, it wouldn’t change the truth.

He had lost you and he would never forgive himself for that.

#love and deepspace #lnds sylus #love and deepspace sylus #l&ds sylus #lads sylus #sylus x reader #sylus #sylus x you

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kiwi-on-ice · 3 months ago

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Kinktober 2024 day 23: Daddy Kink with Ramattra

Fem reader, NSFW 18+

Also contains: dom!ram obvs, face fucking

Coming into your bedroom, your head tilts as you see your omnic lover hunched over your laptop. But little did you know, if his faceplate allowed for expression, he’d be smirking.

“I’ve found something interesting pet.”

His tone makes you nervous, as you gently step over to your laptop. But your eyes widen as you take in the monitor; you’ve always been an avid fanfiction reader, and you’ve always loved to read about kinks you’ve never tried before. However nothing could have prepared you for Ramattra to actually see one of the fanfiction you’d saved, let alone that one.

“Tell me, I’ve heard about such things…but you’d really stoop so low as to call your partner daddy?”

You flush immediately, trying to hide your face in your hands. On instinct you shake your head, but he tuts and moves your hands away. “Look at me when I’m speaking to you.”

When you lower them, blinking softly at him, his head tilts. “Good girl, now answer me.”

“I…” you begin, hesitating, “it’s…hot to read about, I never thought you’d-“

“Ah, so a dirty little secret then.” He teases, “you humans are so utterly obsessed with the taboo, especially around sex. If this was something you desired, would it not have been simpler to tell me?”

You bite you lip softly, fiddling with the fabric of your sleeve. “I thought you’d find it weird…”

A laugh barks from his voice modulator, as he stands to his full height. Now towering above you, his sheer frame intimidates you a little, so you step back on instinct. But he doesn’t allow you that space, stepping forward before hooking a finger under your chin.

“I have entertained many such fantasies for you, as you have done for me. This is no different…if it is something you truly desire.”

Your eyes sparkle in interest as you look up at him. “You mean you’d…”

“If it would make you happy pet.” He begins, before he leans down so his faceplate is inches away from your lips. “Then why don’t you be a good girl for daddy and kneel.”

Immediately you obey, the word putting you in a submissive headspace. He revels in this, his large metal hand now stroking at your scalp rhythmically.

“Oh how fascinating. If I’d have known your bratty little mouth would be silent if I referred to myself in such a way, then I’d have tried this a long time ago.”

You flush in embarrassment, but you can't help but close your eyes at his soothing touch, the cold metal reacting with how burning hot your entire body feels.

"Look up at me, that's it...look up at daddy."

With a soft shiver you do, you look up at him dutifully. He rewards this, dragging his hand down to cup your cheek, stroking a thumb along your cheekbone.

"Good...are you embarrassed pet?"

You nod softly, but he tuts once more and taps your cheek, clearly seeking a verbal response. "Yes..."

"Yes, what?" He demands.

With a sharp swallow, you manage to get out a soft "Yes daddy."

He hums, before reaching down and freeing his cock, rubbing the tip softly on your lips. You open up on instinct, but he simply moves his appendage to run over your face, crudely marking you. You should feel even more humiliated, but the throbbing of your clit means that your head is swimming in lust and desire. All you want is for him to take your mouth, but you keep your lips closed.

"Tell daddy what you want." he says cruelly, emphasising the title to further cement your desperation, and while you beg for him, he doesn't stop rubbing his cock all over your features.

Once he's satisfied, he pushes his cock into your mouth, until your eyes water in surprise. With a grip on your hair, he moves you up and down like a toy, enjoying not just your warm wet mouth, but your submission.

He fucks your throat, all the while teasing you as his modulator glitches. As the tears form in your eyes, he figures he could get used to you calling him such a depraved honorific…just for you of course…

#overwatch #overwatch x reader #ow fanfic #overwatch smut #overwatch 2 #overwatch headcanons #ow2 #ow2 ramattra #ramattra x you #ramattra x reader #ramattra smut #ramattra ow #ramattra overwatch #ramattra #kinktober #kinktober 2024

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cometwritesshit · 5 months ago

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Closed doors

Pairing : Geto Suguru x gn!reader

Contents : angst , happy ending, miscommunication(?), humor at the end, Geto comes off slightly aggressive in the heat of the argument

Authors note : My first time writing angst , I think it came out okay but anyway you guys can be the judge of that. Also not thoroughly proofread but enjoy anyway.

Geto missed you dearly. He didn’t think rejecting your love confession would cause such a deep rift in your friendship. With every wave and every smile, he was met with nothingness. Without you, he was left with an ache in his chest that he couldn’t begin to unpack.

He tried to give you space, he really did, but when hours turned into days and days turned into weeks, he grew increasingly frustrated. Even if the romantic feelings you harbored could not be returned, he still had love for you—platonic love, right?

He doesn't know how he ended up here. One second he was leaving his dorm for a late night walk and the next he was stood infornt of your door, staring blankly.

With a long moment of hesitation, he manifested the courage to lightly knock on the door.

“Why are you ignoring me?” he asks the as the door opened, his usual blunt and straightforward personality still strong, his stoic expression masking his thoughts and emotions.

You observed his facial expression, slightly puzzled as to why he was stood infront of your door demanding answers at this hour.

"It's too late for this , Suguru , we'll talk tomorrow." You mumbled as you slowly began to shut the door before being stopped by his foot , peaking out the edge of the door frame

“We’re talking now. So, why’re you ignoring me?” he responds, his voice still as firm as ever. There was stubbornness laced in his every word, his determination to get an answer from you driving him not to back down—no matter how badly he might want to.

"I just needed some time for myself , I didn't mean to Ignore you for so long." You replied half-heartedly , in a desperate attempt to shoo him away.

He studies your expression, his lips forming into a thin line as he silently scrutinized you. The crease between his eyebrows deepens, his eyes narrowing slightly as he continued to look at you. It was only when he spoke again in a quiet voice did the tension in his expression melt away a little.

“Why do I feel like you’re not telling me everything?” he questions. His words are heavy with concern and doubt, his mind already swirling into turmoil as he lets his mind wander—thinking about what might be the reason for your distance.

"I'm telling you as much as I can , truthfully" you attempted to assure him , seeing the way he analysed you making you fidget.

His jaw clenches in response to your answer. A mixture of anger and worry swirls in the pit of his stomach, making him feel nauseous. Part of him wanted to press for more information, dig deep into your answer and tear it apart, but another part of him was terrified of what he might find.

“Damn it, you know I hate when you’re vague.” he mutters under his breath, his hands clenching into fists as he tried to keep his emotions under control.

"I was embarrassed okay? I thought I could never face you again" I broke ,as I felt his stare intensify.

There was a brief moment of surprise when he heard your answer. He wasn’t expecting that, his head slightly tilting to the side as he lets his eyes soften, his expression melting as his heart ached with pain.

“...Why did you think that?” he asked, his voice gentle. His eyes scanned your face, searching for any sign of a lie, but he found nothing. Only a hint of embarrassment and genuine sincerity, and that only made things worse on his heart.

"I..don't know"

An exhale escapes his lips as he lets his guard down a little more. There was a hint of frustration present as he ran a hand through his hair.

“Damn it. Stop being vague for like two seconds and answer me properly.” he muttered, his voice low but clear. He didn’t expect you to say what he wanted to hear, but he still wanted you to speak honestly, even if it just shattered his heart further.

"But it's true!, I don't know why I did " you said as you looked up at him for a brief moment , your tears building up.

His eyes widened for a second when he saw your expression, his entire breath hitching in his throat. The sight of your eyes made something in his chest stir—an overwhelming sense of guilt for being the cause of your sadness.

He took a hesitant step forward, closing the space between you.

“Why... why were you embarrassed?” he asked, his voice lowering even more than before, now just above a whisper.

"I just said I don't know , I can't even begin to explain the feeling," you said, the agitation in your voice becoming prominent.

He groans in frustration, his lips twisting into a grimace as he was met with yet another unclear answer.

He takes another step forward. Now standing directly in front of you, his towering height making you feel small as he had to tilt his head down just to look at you. He was trying to keep his feelings at bay, but the pang in his chest just got steadily more and more painful with every passing moment.

“Try.” he murmurs, his voice barely audible.

I stay silent for a moment trying to conjure up some sort of explanation

"I guess I thought you found me disgusting, for even thinking of you like that and that you would hold it against me." You mumbled, semi-aware that the reasoning was stupid.

His eyes soften even more as your words sink in, his jaw tightening for a second, before he slowly lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

Without thinking, he lifted a hand and placed it on your shoulder, his touch gentle as his thumb brushed against your bare skin. “...How could I hold it against you when…” he trailed off, his teeth clenching in hesitation as the next word threatened to stumble out of his lips.His heartbeat grew louder in his chest, his fingers gripping a little tighter on your shoulder, the thought of pulling away never even entering his mind. He held your gaze firmly, his eyes flicking around your face for a moment before he finally spoke up.

“When I don’t mind it?” he whispered, before pausing briefly. He could feel his heart racing at a hundred miles per minute, but somehow, he forced the next words out of his mouth.

“When I don’t hate the idea.”

You looked at him with an expression that was jumping between the line of confusion and anger.

"what?"

You scoffed in slight disbelief , eyes glistening with the tears piling up behind them.He can't be serious.

"Why did you reject me in the first place then l, I'm- i" you stammered as you pulled his arm off your shoulder, unable to finish your sentence from the sheer shock.

He blinked in surprise as you pushed his arm away, his eyes widening at the tears in your eyes, the pang in his heart coming back in full force. He felt like he just got stabbed in the chest, his own heart wrenching in response to your own distraught.

Without thinking, his hand moved on its own, grabbing your wrist and pulling you back toward him, his other hand gripping your chin and forcing you to look at him, his eyes narrowing.

“Let me finish.” he said, his voice firm.

"No!, you don't get to finish! Not after you rejected me for , for no logical reason!Who even does that!" You snapped , your voice gradually beginning to waver.

“For no reason?” he retorted, his tone sharp, eyes narrowing even more as an odd, confusing wave of anger washed over him at your words.

He stepped closer to you, his hand still grasping your chin, even his grip on your wrist got tighter, his body tense from the mixed emotions that was swimming through his mind and body.

“There was a reason, goddamn it!"

"Then what the fuck was it" you hissed between your teeth , tears gliding down your skin and your voice threatening to break on you

He flinched slightly at your cursing, caught off guard by the amount of anger and despair that was mixed into every word that left your lips. The sight of your tears made something in his chest ache, but he quickly shoved aside the feeling, trying to not get distracted by it.

He leaned closer to you, his face nearly touching yours as he spoke, his voice low and harsh, but the edge to it felt like it was more at himself than you.

“Because I’m scared.”

"Scared? You're scared? of what!" The disbelief practically coating your voice

He lets out a scoff, his hand clenching into a fist at his side in frustration. The emotions were starting to overwhelm him and he was getting increasingly frustrated at how easily you got under his skin and the way you effortlessly tore down all his defenses. But he still forced himself to answer, despite his reluctance.

“Scared of losing what we have, damn it. Do you even know how important you are to me?” He muttered through clenched teeth, his gaze narrowing but with a hint of fear and desperation in his eyes.

"Do you know how important you were to me ?" You snapped back at him, the tears that had been trapped for weeks finally making their escape "Had you thought about how I felt ,for even a nanosecond, then you would realised I confessed because I cared about you and I didn't want to loose you either." You choked out through your tears before going silent , the sound of your sobs so quiet yet so deafening.

Suguru froze, the words hit him like a punch to the gut. He had never seen you like this before, heartbroken and distraught because of him—because of what he said.

His eyes widened, his mind growing increasingly dizzy from the overwhelming sense of guilt that suddenly hit him like a truck.

“I…I knew you cared about me.” he mumbled, his voice low and soft, all the anger and tension that was present earlier completely vanished, his grip on your wrist loosening.

"No , you didn't" you said bluntly, pulling away from him and stepping back "You had your chance , Suguru , and you missed it. Goodnight" you whispered as you shut the door on him before leaning against it and sliding down onto the floor , your head buried deep in your knees.

For a second, he just stood there, speechless, not knowing what to do or say. The silence echoed in his mind as he watched you slam the door in his face, the sound of it reverberating in his head.

He should’ve just let you be, he thought. He should’ve turned on his heels and walked away instead of showing up unannounced to your dorm room, but the moment he saw your door he’d acted on nothing but impulse and desperation—desperation to fix what he’d messed up.

He stepped forward and rested his forehead on the door, his jaw clenched in frustration, before taking a breath to steady himself. He knew he still wanted you, but he had already rejected you once.

He let out a long sigh, his head thudding softly against the door, the sound of you trying to hold back your tears not escaping his ears. He knew he couldn’t leave you alone like this.

”C’mon, open the door,” he called out, his voice quiet but still able to be heard through the wood.

you stayed silent, as your tears continued to trickle down your face.

He could only hear the sound of your soft sniffles from behind the closed door, but that was enough for his already aching heart to ache even more. The thought of you sitting on the other side of the door, trying to hold back tears because of him, made him feel sick

He closed his eyes, shutting out the world to focus solely on you.

“Please. Let me say one more thing and then I’ll leave you alone, I swear.” he pleaded through the wood.

You lifted your head up , hearing his pleas through the door and the sincerity behind them.The memories of all the times he would give you his advice as if he was some wise old man and you dramatically rolling your eyes in response, all the times you'd beg him to help you with your assignments and studying for an upcoming test before he'd finally give in because he couldn't say no to you and all the times he'd help you after a shitty day or a terrible breakup, coming to your dorm with snacks and plushies in hands.it all came flooding back to you, as if your relationship was having a flashback before it took its last breaths.

Were you really ready to let go of all of that?

He blinked, surprised you opened the door.He slowly lifted his head to look at you, his expression solemn as his eyes focused on your puffy, tear-stained face. He hated how you looked, knowing he was the cause of your distress, but the guilt only fueled the intense emotions within him even more.

He studied your face, his gaze flickering between your eyes and swollen lips, before his eyes settled on your still-damp cheeks, his hand reaching out to gently press his thumb to your skin

He used the pad of his thumb to brush away the tear streaks on your cheek, his palm resting softly on your skin. This feeling, seeing you like this and knowing he was the cause, made him feel like he’d rather die than lose you. He hated seeing you cry, and yet ,he was the very reason for your tears—he was a hypocrite at his best.

His heart beat heavily in his chest, his breath catching in his throat as he looked at you, his mind torn between doing the right thing and doing what he truly wanted.

He wasn’t used to pleading like this, he usually got everything his way by just giving a stern, commanding tone and making his intentions clear but you—you always made him weak. You made him stumble and hesitate and stumble again.

He took a sharp breath, steeling himself before finally saying the words he’d so desperately wanted to say moments ago.

“I…I don’t want to lose you.”

"I know you don't, Suguru, but it always feels like you're too busy guarding your emotions that you fail to consider the effect your actions will have on me, you thought you were doing us a favour by rejecting me but you were so busy trying to shield our friendship you lost sight of how you actually felt about me when I expressed my romantic feelings."

He flinched. The words you said stung, and part of him wanted to argue back, to protest and say that you were wrong, but he knew you were right. He knew he had done this to himself.

He had built his walls around himself for so long, always keeping his emotions tightly in check. But that came at the cost of being unable to show how he really felt, how he truly care for you but was too scared to show it to you. He was caught in a web of his own making.

He exhaled deeply, his head slightly dropping as he felt defeated. He hated this—the feeling of being so vulnerable. He was supposed to be strong, he wasn’t supposed to feel so weak and powerless, but yet here he was, in front of you while you broke down his walls.

He lifted his head again, his gaze locking with yours as his heart hammered in his chest.

“Damn it, you really do know every single weakness of mine, don’t you.” he muttered, his hand still caressing your cheek.

"They're not weaknesses, they're what makes up you , your values and your morals"

He let out a soft scoff, not out of mockery but from disbelief. Here you were, after everything he did and said, you still managed to find the good in him even when he couldn’t see it himself.

He studied your face, his hand moving so his palm was fully cupping your cheek, his touch gentle yet firm as he tried to wrap his mind around the fact that you still wanted him, even after everything he put you through.

“You’re… you’re way too good, you know that?”

"I have my imperfections too you know" you said , a smile creeping onto your face.

Seeing the hint of a smile on your face made his heart flutter in his chest, a relief washing over him after seeing your eyes so puffed and red. And despite your puffy eyes and tear-stained skin, he still thought you were the most beautiful person he’d ever laid eyes on.

His thumb gently caressed your cheek, a small smirk appearing on his face as he said, “Oh, I know. I have a list. Multiple, actually.”

You slowly began to close the door on him as he poked fun at you.

He let out a scoff, slightly amused by your cheeky gesture, but also feeling relieved that you had somehow lightened the mood after the seriousness of the conversation.

He pressed his hand on the door and pushed it back open. “What do you think you’re doing?” he asked, raising an eyebrow at you.

"Teaching you a lesson" you responded casually.

He chuckled, his hand still pressed on the door, holding it open. The sight of you playfully smiling and bantering with him made his heart flutter just slightly. He liked this, he liked you.

He smirked, leaning a bit closer to you, his eyes narrowing slightly.

“And what lesson would that be?”

"How to treat your partner right, you bonehead" You said , playfully nudging him.

His smirk grew as a wave of both disbelief and affection washed over him at your words. It was the first time you’d called yourself his partner, and there was a warm feeling that suddenly blossomed in his chest because of it.

“A bonehead? Really?” he asked, raising an eyebrow at you, but he felt far from insulted. In fact, he was trying his hardest to not smile like an idiot.

You grinned mischievously in response to his reaction

The cheeky grin on your face only fueled his love even more, and he found himself inching even closer to you.

He gently cupped your face in both his palms, his thumbs brushing over your cheeks as he looked down at you.

“You’re a brat, you know that?” he mumbled, his tone somewhere between annoyed and amused.

"You know you love me"

He rolled his eyes, his heart racing a hundred miles per minute at your words. He did love you, but hearing you say it so boldly sent his mind into a frenzy, and he couldn’t help but swallow, his mouth suddenly feeling dry all of a sudden.

He pulled you closer by the waist, trapping you between him and the doorway as he leaned in and looked at you.

“I might tolerate you.” he muttered, a slight smirk on his lips.

#geto suguru #jjk x reader #jjk #jjk angst #jjk geto #geto x reader #geto suguru x reader #geto #geto angst #geto suguru angst

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megamindsecretlair · 11 months ago

Text

Runaway Lover, Part 1

Pairing: Big Stunna x Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. SMUT. ANGST. PWP, cursing, PIV, oral (female and male receiving) teasing/mocking, cum play/swallowing, size kink, dirty talk, praise kink, referring to female anatomy as she, all consensual. Use of n-word. Mentions of God, Christian leaning. Sorry if I missed some, I'm rushing, just let me know.

Summary: On a girl's trip with your friends to Punta Cana, getting some much needed rest before spring semester, you bump into Stunna and a whirlwind romance rocks you to your core.

Word Count: 9,326k

Part 2 | Part 3

A/N: This is a wonderful ask from @melaninpov. I'm sorry if this wasn't what you had in mind, I've been watching romance movies all day and this turned sweet unexpectedly. Happy Valentine's Day, my loves. Please, please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers! And please put ages in bios! Or get blockt!

Taglist: @planetblaque @blackerthings @browngirldominion @we-outsiiiide @thecookiebratz @iv0rysoap @notapradagurl7 @sevikasblackgf @miyuhpapayuh @xo-goldengirl @kindofaintrovert @flydotty @judymfmoody @slippinninque @soufcakmistress @henneseyhoe @westside-rot @melaninpov @twocentuar @blackpinup22 @babybratzmaraj @theyscreamsannii @kiabialia

“Are you sure this isn’t too short?” You asked your friends. You stood in the bathroom of your hotel suite. The bright, fluorescent lighting in the bathroom highlighted everything. Everything. You wore a simple gold dress with intricate bronze and burnished orange swirls. It was a tad too short and showed a tad too much.

You weren’t a prude but you were also unused to showing…so much. You tugged at the short sleeves, the low neckline, and pinched the areas around your sides. You weren’t sure why you packed the damn thing, but you were drinking while packing. Something you vowed to never do again.

“You look so hot!” Your friend, Stella, said and moved closer to you and faced the mirror. She wore a violet dress with sparkling beads woven in to make it look like she wore a dress made of stars. It fit her deep ebony skin perfectly and brought out the subtle jewel tones in her skin.

You bit your lip, tasting the sweet lipgloss you dabbed on your lips. Abusing your lips was your worst sin and you avoided putting anything on them but tonight, you were all about new experiences. Hopefully.

“I should change,” you said. You pushed past Stella’s calls out for you to stop and that there was no need.

Angela appeared in the doorway and trapped you in the bathroom. “Damn girl!” You said. Stella’s sister was gorgeous in a marigold bodycon dress that hugged all of her curves and showed off her perfectly round ass. Truly, an apple bottom that she claimed was her best feature.

Angela preened under the praise but did not lower her hands from the door frame. “You’re not changing. None of us are changing. We only have two days left before it’s back to fucking school and we’re going out with a bang. They better be throwing us out before the trip is over,” she said.

She pushed you back into the bathroom. Thank goodness the space was big enough for all three of you. There were wide tile squares on the floor, a discarded hotel towel on the floor to keep you all from slipping, and two large mirrors over a double sink.

Angela and Stella finished up their makeup and demanded that you applied more gloss. Stella handed you a clutch to match your dress and told you to take the gloss with you.

You accepted it with a roll of your eyes. You’d likely go through the entire tube before the night was over. You were constantly at battle with your anxiety. Ya’ll really didn’t fuck with each other but it was like a toxic ex that didn’t know how to leave you alone. You could block, skip, and hop away from it but it was always lurking around the corner.

“Alright! Let’s go!” Stella yelled, getting you two pumped for the night’s activities. You all put on your matching heels or sandals, grabbed purses and clutches, and tucked in last minute items you may need, and headed out of the door.

Punta Cana was a balmy destination spot with plenty of resorts. The trip there had been uneventful but you and your friends had stayed glued to the windows, snapping pictures of the local plantlife, hills, and palm trees.

At the resort, you couldn’t help looking around in wide-eyed wonder, taking in the people and accommodations. You had been here for a few days enjoying the beach and accompanying swimming pool at the resort.

Everyone was friendly and open and a staff member was always around waiting to answer your questions. The goal of the trip was rest, rest, and more fucking rest. You were approaching your final year of school. After this spring semester, you were officially a senior and would have to enter the dreaded world of adults.

Stella and Angela kept up a steady stream of chatter on the ride down the elevator about what they were most excited for. The adults only resort was a breath of fresh air. No kids running around and no harried parents running after them.

Tonight, you were going to the club in the resort. So far, your activities have kept you from that venue. You rode ATVs and did a snorkeling tour off the shore of the beach. You also climbed into a boat to watch the local marine life. That part was your favorite.

Angela had to remind you that you were in fact young and it was okay to enjoy yourself. Half the time, you didn’t know where your anxiety came from. You could be having the time of your life and then boom! Your anxiety was snatching your breath away and warning you of an invisible threat. No matter how many times you asked for proof or begged to know what the threat was, your anxiety only shook its head and repeated the warning tone: danger, danger!

You shoved your anxiety in the recesses of your mind. You were not in danger. There was no threat. You were only here to have a good time.

On the main floor of the resort, the wide open arches and large windows let in enough of the view that you saw the moon ascending the sky. Sunset was losing its grip on this part of the world. Swirling colors of lilac, tangerine, and amber dotted the sky as night approached. The ambient lighting outside began to turn on one by one.

Stella looped her arms through yours and Angela’s arms and pulled you toward the entrance to the club. The music reached you first. Hotel guests were spilling in and out of the place so it must be a popular spot.

You swallowed around the huge lump in your throat as you pushed inside, flashing your wristbands that confirmed your age and the amenities you paid for. The staff member waved you in with a polite smile and soon you were entrenched in the booming club.

The space itself was huge with plenty of dancefloor area. The upbeat, fast paced music got everybody dancing and shaking their hips. There were pillars stationed around the room holding up the ceiling but other than that, it was pretty much open. There was a bar area on a raised platform filled with tables and chairs.

Most were all occupied as people looked over the railing at the brave people down below getting it on in various states of fancy clothing. Dresses flew through the space. Heels clacked on the floor. Hands were in the air in an undulating wave like the waters that crashed on the shore.

There was a heavy smell of liquor and sweat and some type of sweet perfume in the air that tried to combat it. There was no way to combat the funk so it ended up smelling like sweet sweat. But that was to be expected with so many people in one room shaking what the Lord gave them.

You and your friends made a beeline to the bar, immediately ordering sugary drinks that would go straight to your head. Alcohol was never a proper solution to anxiety. However, you’d take anything for a release from its shackles for the night.

As you waited for your drink, you bounced your shoulders trying to get your body to catch up to your mind. “Naw, show us what you got, girl!” Stella said. She whistled and encouraged you to dance a little more, shake a little more.

Fuck it. You couldn’t let your anxiety win this time around. You started getting into it, shaking your booty faster and then backing away from the bar. You felt the rhythm of the song, waving your hands and getting your whole body into it.

You backed up one more step and tripped, your body flying to the right. You shrieked, hands reaching out to catch your fall. However, you didn’t fall. Strong arms encircled you. It took a few moments for your mind to catch up to the fact that you weren’t kissing the nasty club floor.

Your heart roared in your chest, causing stops and starts that made you shake all over. The strong arms pulled you back to standing, righting yourself on your wedges. “Thank you,” you said.

You looked up into the most gorgeous pair of brown eyes you had ever seen. Those eyes were framed by a long face, wide nose, and a trimmed dark beard. He had a big smile with perfect, symmetrical teeth encased in hollow grills.

The man had rich, deep golden brown skin that he showed off with a collared navy shirt and black jeans. His upper arms were bulging with muscles, straining against the short sleeves of his shirt.

He was in a word: devastating.

“Are you okay?” Sound finally filtered past your racing heartbeat. The way he looked at you gave you the indication that he had asked it more than once. You bit your lip and nodded. You forgot how words worked.

“Are you sure you didn’t twist anything?” He asked. His voice felt like what hot chocolate on a cold evening tasted like. It warmed you up from the inside out, awakening places that didn’t usually awaken for anything other than your favorite celebrity and brownies.

Your mind was slow, fuzzy around the edges, as it dawned on you that he was pointing to your feet. You moved each leg, leaning on him while you lifted your legs and moved them in a tiny circle.

You looked back into his eyes and nodded again. “Good,” you chirped.

He smiled slowly. Fuck, you could watch him smile for the rest of your days and never get sick of it. He was so damn cute. And hot. A dangerous combination that had you acting like Helen Keller. ‘Cept you could plainly see how divinely sexy he was.

“Can I buy you a drink to apologize for ruining your dance?” He asked.

You smiled and ducked your head, cheeks warming up from the embarrassment of dancing in front of him. You looked down at his hands secured around your arms, at your hands on his.

You started to move them but he held on a little tighter, unwilling to let you go. “I…kind of already ordered one,” you said around the thick lump in your throat. Come on! Get it together! What the hell was wrong with you?

“Oh, are you here with someone?” He asked. He still didn’t let you go.

You licked your lips, the sweet taste of manufactured strawberries coating your tongue and snapping some sense back into you. You nodded and looked towards your friends. They were openly gawking at you.

“My friends,” you finally said.

“But no guy?” He asked.

You giggled and shook your head. “No girl?” You asked.

He smiled and shook his head. “I’m Stunna,” he said.

You told him your name. He said a few times, rolling the syllables around his tongue like one did to a lollipop. You focused on his mouth and the way he said your name. As if he had been saying it his whole life and never wanted to stop.

“If I can’t buy you a drink, can I get your number? You from the States?” He asked.

Anxiety reared its huge, ugly, monstrous head. You were nervous to just…abandon your friends. Let alone your drink. With your luck, you lived on complete opposite sides of the country. You nodded, to give him an answer about the States. But were too nervous to tell him where. To even hint at the possibility that you could occupy the same city and there wasn’t a national alert about it.

You were sure that he caused a storm of women wherever he went. You would have noticed if he lived around the Bay. You knew that you’d feel him in your blood, taste him in your veins if you lived in the same area. Certain that you would have bumped into each other already. Seen each other somewhere.

“I should probably get back to my friends. I’m sure your friends are missing you as well,” you said. You reluctantly withdrew your hold on him. Your small claim for the time being. Relinquishing that hold hurt.

He nodded. As you turned to leave, he swiftly caught your hand. He brought it to his lips and kissed your fingers. “Save a dance for me? I wanna see more of them moves.”

A nervous giggle pushed against your rib cage, threatening to spill over. You swallowed it back down and bit your lip. You didn’t want to keep turning him down but your stomach twisted and turned. Danger! Threat!

There was nothing threatening about the man so you figured that you needed away. You needed space to breathe and think. Time spent away from his spicy cologne that tickled your nose.

You nodded once more. What were the odds that he’d find you again in this club? If your friends weren’t at the bar, you wouldn’t know the first place to look for them.

Stunna let go of your hand and backed away, giving you a small wink before turning back to his friends. He was surrounded by a group of guys, all hot in some way or another? Damn. You checked out his back side as you walked back to your friends.

“The hell you doing back here?” Stella asked.

“What’s happening? Why aren’t you sitting in that man’s lap?” Angela asked.

“What are you talking about?” You asked. You grabbed your drink, the glass sweating from sitting so long. How long had you been talking to Stunna? And why did you feel like you wanted to run right back into his arms?

You took deep gulps of the fruity concoction, letting the alcohol seep through your system and chase away your anxiety. The cold from the drink burned away the lump in your throat. Being away from him helped. It helped in a way that was foreign to you to name or identify.

People didn’t have physical reactions to others right? Like that was a thing made up by romance movies to get people’s heads in the clouds and sell more candy in stores, right?

Your friends hounded you for answers to their questions, wondering what you spoke about and why you weren’t still talking to him.

“I didn’t want to abandon you for some guy. This is a girl’s trip. A relaxing trip,” you said.

“You better relax on that man’s dick! Like you saw him right? Like you saw the way he looked at you? Girl, please tell me she’s not that oblivious,” Stella said, leaning her head on her sister’s shoulder.

Angela tossed her hands up as if she were preaching to a congregation. “Father God, grant your child the gift of sight because she’s clearly blind,” Angela said.

You laughed, rubbing your forehead at their embarrassing shenanigans. ��I’m not oblivious!”

“I pray that I’ll never do some dumb shit like her, Lord. Smite her and send the nigga my way, because damn,” Stella said. She looked behind you and you panicked, standing in her way to not bring attention to the fact that you were discussing Stunna. You risked a glance over your shoulder.

Stunna was sitting down at a table, faced in your direction. He lifted his glass to you and you smiled, turning around and immediately dropping it. The drink wasn’t helping. Butterflies flapped tiny wings in your stomach. He was killing you.

“What happened to new experiences?” Angela asked.

“Not that damn new,” you muttered, sipping more of your drink. At this rate, you’d need ten drinks to calm the wings in your stomach.

Stella groaned dramatically, throwing her arms across your shoulders. “As sweet as it is to worry about us, you see us every damn day. How often do you run across someone that damn fine in real life? In real life? He belongs in a magazine or on TV or some shit,” she said.

That was the fucking truth. “He probably lives on the East Coast or something,” you said, waving Stella off of you. You were too hot. There were too many people here. Too many clusters of hot breath, sweat, and body heat raising the temperature in the room to dangerous levels.

You sipped more of your drink. You tapped your foot against the hard floor, vibrating with energy that had nowhere to go. Nothing to do but zip up and down your body and twist your insides.

“So? You ain’t trynna marry the nigga. Just get down,” Angela said and bent low, shaking her hips. Stella joined her, sticking their tongues out. Stella turned around and bounced her booty against Angela. Angela mimed hitting Stella’s ass and you laughed, waving them away.

“You two are a hot fucking mess!” You screamed. They continued to dance and giggle, shaking their ass and proceeding to make you wish the floor swallowed you whole.

“Since our girl is romantically deficient, let’s get on the floor,” Stella said. You finished your drink and followed your friends to the dance floor.

You started out stiff, not wanting to bump up against anyone. You didn’t need a repeat from earlier. Your friends noticed your reluctance and each took one of your hands. They began to swing you around.

You smiled, falling for their obvious charm. You loosened up and relaxed. The drink finally did the trick and you surrendered to the music. You closed your eyes and felt the thumping beats, the instruments, and sultry crooning of the singer.

You danced and laughed with your friends, relishing the feeling of being young and carefree. This was what you had been chasing this entire trip. This feeling of being present and in the moment.

You began to twerk as the music changed, popping your ass to the beat of the song. Your friends cheered you on. You placed your hands on your knees and got lower. Someone sidled up behind you, not one of your friends you were sure.

You shrugged your shoulders and kept dancing. Now was the time to keep living in the moment. You could dance with someone that wasn’t in your immediate comfort circle. You couldn’t always hang onto your friends like a barnacle.

Large hands circled your waist and you leaned back into a lean but strong frame. The stranger felt like a man and a good dancer on top of it. Able to match your changing moves. The stranger grabbed your hands and spun you around to face him.

Stunna grinned at the surprise on your face. “I thought I told you to save me a dance,” he yelled to be heard over the music.

“What took you so long?” You asked.

“Like that?” He asked, exaggerating his words. You nodded. He matched your nod and then spun you back around. You giggled, breathless at being spun around like a doll. He pulled you around the dancefloor dancing to the fast-paced music with ease. Now it was you that was having trouble keeping up with him.

You faced him now and your hands were in each other’s, dancing with complicated turns and twirling limbs that made you feel like you were on Dancing With the Stars. The song finished and you waved your heads. “I need a break!”

Stunna grinned, flashing those damn grills. You stared at them, wondering if he took them out during sex. Was he the type to go down on a woman? Stunna winked as he if sensed the direction of your thoughts.

He placed his hand on your lower back and led you back to the bar. You ordered some water and he made you order a drink. “Since you don’t wanna give a nigga your phone number,” he said with a show-stopping smile.

You rolled your eyes. “Why do you want my number?” You asked. You drank the water bottle at his nudging.

“So I can hear that sexy ass voice in my ear,” he said.

You rolled your eyes playfully and played with the paper around the water bottle. “You’re so bad,” you said.

He shrugged his shoulders, calling your name like he was savoring the taste of it. “I’m still right though. I want to keep talking to you,” he said.

You could practically feel your friends on your shoulders like little devils pushing you to give him your number. What harm could it do? You held out your hand for his phone. He dug it out of his pocket and handed it to you.

His total focus on you while you entered your number was unnerving. You couldn’t help giggling as you put in your number. He reached out and trailed a finger down your arm, raising goosebumps in its wake. You messed up on a number and giggled in his direction.

“You’re distracting me,” you said.

“Yeah? Good. But make sure that number right,” he said. He peeked across the screen as you backspaced and entered your number correctly.

He smelled like his cologne, sweat, and whatever drink he had throughout the night. You handed his phone back to him. You fanned yourself with your clutch while he looked at his phone.

He smiled and tapped a few times. “There, now you have my number,” he said.

The butterflies returned to your stomach the longer you spent in his presence. He liked that he could fluster you so easily and tried his damndest to keep doing so. Your cheeks ached from all the smiling you did.

You talked more about yourself and your friends and why you came to the D.R. He told you that he was out here celebrating for his friend’s wedding. The wedding had already passed, cheaper during the week, so they were spending the weekend celebrating with friends.

“It’s nice of you all to come out here and celebrate with them,” you said. Stunna turned his head to the side, he didn’t hear you. The music seemed to get louder and even though you yelled, he couldn’t hear you.

Stunna scooted closer to you and yelled in your ear. “Wanna go outside?”

You looked at him and nodded. You couldn’t hear shit, but you were pretty sure you could hear your friends whooping for joy as Stunna took your hand and led you outside of the club.

Your ears popped as you reached the quiet interior of the lobby. There was a stark contrast between the two rooms and your ears rung. You shook your head, trying to clear the ringing. Stunna did the same, shaking his shoulders too for good measure.

Being out in the lobby, the base temperature felt like frost at the top of a mountain. You shivered as it highlighted buckets of sweat rolling down your spine and between your breasts.

A drop of sweat rolled down Stunna’s arm and you followed the movement as it trailed down a prominent vein. Stunna still held your hand and you walked out of the resort, past the open pool that shimmered with light from nearby lamps.

You walked along the concrete pathways heading down to the beach. Before you stepped onto the sand, you leaned down and took off your wedges. Stunna took off his boots, and rolled up his pants legs.

“Looks like I was smart to wear a dress,” you said and giggled at him.

“Damn smart. I’m glad you did. Your body in that dress, hmm,’ he said and rolled his bottom lip between his teeth.

“Stop,” you chuckled and shook your head. He was incorrigible.

“Naw, I can’t. Your ass looks amazing. Thighs I just wanna squeeze. Lips I wanna kiss,” he said. He stood up to his full height and you stared at him.

Soft moonlight fell over his features on one side of his face. The lamps gave a warm glow on the other side. He was light, soaking it all up and reflecting it back out to seem like he had an inner glow.

You sighed, staring at this work of art before you. You wanted to pinch yourself. You stepped closer but Stunna only smiled, grabbed your hand, and you took off down the beach. You spent time walking up and down, warm sand digging between your toes.

You talked more, learning about him and how much he loved to read. You shared that passion and spoke about books you’ve read and favorite authors. He took your recommendations seriously, pulling out his phone to add books to a list on his phone.

“Come back to my room,” he said.

You shook your head. “Won’t your friends be looking for you?”

“Naw. I got my own room. I ain’t sharing shit with them nasty niggas,” he said.

You laughed, moving away from him as the sand made you trip up. Stunna pulled you back to his side. “See, yo clumsy ass need somewhere to sit. Come sit in my room,” he said.

You were back in the same position from earlier when he rescued you from falling. He gripped your elbows, standing close enough to lick, and your hands were on his arms. He was too close, surrounding you with him. You couldn’t think past him. When you looked up, all you saw was him.

You waited to feel panicked and shaky. To warn you to step away and flee from him. It never came. “If I go back to your room, I doubt we’ll just be sitting,” you said.

“I never said that. That’s yo nasty mind,” he said. He licked his lips. “But I like the way you think. You wanna come sit in my lap?”

There were no reservations. No warning bells in your head. No screeches of noise or racing thoughts to prevent you from biting your lip and nodding. From grabbing his hand and watching each other as you left the beach and headed inside.

You didn’t talk as you leaned against one another in the elevator. He placed a kiss to your head and you melted even further into him. The elevator softly dinged and the doors opened to his floor. He stayed in the building next to your room. You were sort of relieved. Had he stayed in the same building or even on the same floor, it would have been too perfect. Too obviously a set up by God or whoever was out there listening.

Stunna swiped his keycard once he got to his room and opened the door. You walked inside the cool room and turned on lights.

He had a suitcase on the couch of his suite, open to reveal some clothes he packed. He had shoes strewn about but for the most part, he was a clean guest. He closed the door and you turned to look at him.

You placed your shoes on the ground next to his, marveling at the contrast between your sizes. It looked oddly perfect sitting side by side. You ignored that runaway thought as you quickly texted your friends that you would be late to the room. It was a good chance to not wait up for you at all if this night went how you were expecting.

Stunna watched you place your clutch on the TV stand. He moved about the room, cleaning up but it wasn’t necessary. Just bags and bottles of water that were on the nightstand.

“I’ll wash off this sand,” you told him.

“I’ll go after you. Take your time,” he said.

Take your time, yeah right. If you took long enough, you would summon your anxiety like an ancient deity out for your blood. You quickly went to the bathroom and freshened up a little, running the bath to clean off your feet. You didn’t even look at yourself in the mirror. If you did, you would chicken out.

You didn’t want to chicken out. You wanted a wild story. A story to tuck in your heart and bring out as the years passed and you lived your life. A story that you held on to when you got older and your partying days was nearing its end.

When you left the bathroom, Stunna had lowered the lights to make it more intimate and softer. He opened the curtains revealing a balcony that overlooked the ocean. He stood outside, twisting caps off of water bottles. He also had a bottle of Hennesy on the small table outside.

You approached and he smiled when you did. “I’ll be right back,” he said.

He went to the bathroom to clean off the sand. You stepped out fully and enjoyed the breeze kissing your skin. You sipped some of the Hennessy, enjoying that sweet burn. The ocean waves crashed against the shore but from this height, you saw further than you did in your room.

Few stars were able to wink in and out behind dark clouds in the sky. The half moon shone down onto the beach and over the resort. Stunna returned and wrapped his hands around your waist, leaning against you.

He grabbed the cup from your hands and finished the rest. He kissed his way along your exposed neck, sending shivers down your spine. You sighed and relaxed into him. He made no move to do anything else, no roaming hands or nasty words.

“You are so gorgeous,” he said.

You turned in his arms and faced him. “I’m done talking. Kiss me,” you said.

He grinned, flashing those damn golds that have been driving you crazy all night. “You sure?”

You wrapped your hands around his neck and pulled him closer before you lost your nerve. You finally tasted him, tasted the bite of Hennessy on his lips. His lips were warm and wet and his tongue dived into your mouth. You moaned as he explored, running his tongue along yours and along your teeth.

Stunna’s hands gripped your arms and moved lower, cupping your ass and squeezing tight. You growled from how good it felt. How wonderful it felt to be in his arms. Stunna hissed in between his kisses, like you were both on fire but he was willing to risk kissing you through the flames.

Your back was against the railing and he pushed into you, rubbing his erection against your tummy. You moaned.

“Keep moaning like that and I won’t be able to control myself,” he said against your lips. You opened your eyes to look at him.

“Don’t control yourself,” you said.

He laughed and licked his lips. He sat down in the closest chair and pulled you into his lap. You straddled him, wobbling a bit since his stance was so wide. Your legs draped on the outside of his and he spread his legs so that he could spread you wider.

His hands searched under your dress so that he could cup your ass directly. Dig those skillful fingers into the meat of your ass. He spanked one cheek and you jerked in his lap, your pussy rubbing against the fabric of his jeans.

He growled, fingers seeking your wet heat. When he found your clit, he had no mercy. He began to run his thumb around the sensitive nub. You scooted higher on his lap, needing the friction of his jeans to help speed your arousal along. Not that you really needed it. You were already dripping for him.

“Mm, so wet. You always sit your pretty ass on strangers and let them finger your pussy?” He asked around kissing you.

“N-No,” you moaned.

He suckled on your bottom lip and your pussy throbbed. He was working some type of magic between your legs. Some type of spell that threatened to rip you into pieces.

“No? You telling me that this is all for me?” He asked. “I get to be the one to play with you?”

“Yess,” you sighed against his lips.

“Then I should feel special that you’re soaking my fingers already and I’ve yet to feel you?”

“Shit,” you sighed. Your arms were wrapped completely around his neck, holding onto him and keeping him close.

He kissed your neck, licking it, while his fingers finally dipped into your entrance. You shook with a long moan, throwing your head back as pleasure rolled through you in cascading waves.

“Nasty little girl, aren’t you?” He asked.

“N-No,” you whined.

He chuckled. “You letting me play with your pussy. And it feels so good gripping my fingers. Bad little girl,” he growled against your throat.

His other hand snaked up your body until he gripped your throat. Your eyes rolled to the back as he squeezed with force. He brought your head closer so that your foreheads were touching.

His fingers increased in pressure and he drove them into you. Effectively fucking you with his fingers. “Say you’re a bad girl,” he said.

Your breathing was heavy and slow, not pumping enough oxygen into your brain. Or perhaps it was him. Perhaps he was some type of demon, stealing the oxygen from your lungs as your orgasm swam to the surface.

You couldn’t make your words work. The words stuck to the roof of your mouth like peanut butter. Your mouth moved, working double time as he stuck two fingers inside and rolled your clit with his thumb.

“Say it if you wanna cum,” he said.

“I wanna,” you whined.

“You wanna what?” He asked. “Shit, you’re so fucking wet. Can’t wait to taste you. Do you taste as sweet as you look?”

You whined and gyrated your hips. Why couldn’t you say anything? Why couldn’t your mouth work to speak?

“I wanna cum,” you finally choked out. You leaned your head back. He allowed you to do so and he kissed your neck around his fingers, dipping low to kiss your chest and just above your breasts.

“Say you’re a bad girl if you wanna cum,” he demanded.

You were close. Incredibly close. “Don’t stop, don’t stop,” you moaned.

“I’m waiting,” he whispered against your skin. Blowing air across your chest, around the pools of saliva he left on your skin.

“I’m bad. I’m a bad girl,” you moaned.

“So bad,” he agreed.

“So bad. You make me feel so good,” you moaned.

His fingers never stopped pumping into you. Your legs squeezed his and your eyes shut as you cried with your orgasm. Stunna continued to pump his fingers as you came, cooing against your skin.

“So pretty when you cum,” he said. When you were done and slumped against him, he withdrew his fingers. Shivers still wracked your body. He moaned while he suckled on his fingers, licking up your essence.

You watched him as he closed his eyes and savored your taste. You licked your lips watching him. He cleaned his fingers and gave you a wink. “You okay?” He asked.

You shook your head. “I wanna taste you too,” you said.

He grinned. “Get on your knees,” he said. You slid off of his lap with a lopsided smile. The balcony floor wasn’t entirely comfortable, but you were too focused on him unzipping his pants. He released himself from his pants and briefs.

Your eyes widened. You couldn’t possibly fit the whole thing in your mouth?!

Stunna chuckled and moved to put his dick away but you gripped his thighs. “I said, I want to taste you too.” You glanced at him as you took him into your mouth. He gave you an impressed smirk, licking his lips at the look of you taking him deep within your mouth.

You couldn’t fit all of him like you thought. But you got enough of him down. You hoped that your inexperience didn’t show. You’ve sucked dicks before but he was probably used to throat goats. Used to women taking him down to the base, fondling his balls, or knowing what the fuck to do.

You only knew that you wanted to keep going. Wanted to please him. You drooled on him and released him to get some air. Using both hands, you twisted his long shaft and then suckled the head of his dick back into your mouth.

His eyes opened and closed, back bowing off of the chair, as he groaned. His hand palmed your head and pushed you down on his dick, pushing you past your limit until you choked. He eased up, but you took him how he wanted. Your saliva helped your hands twist around his dick and coat his tip.

“Gahh damn. Fuckin’ nasty,” he groaned. You made a pleased sound in the back of your throat and continued to take him deeper and faster. Your sloppy, wet suckling was loud in the quiet air.

You slurped him, drops of precum hitting your tongue. You suckled him all down, glancing at him periodically to see the ecstasy on his face. The pleasure you were bringing him.

“Gonna bust,” he groaned.

“Wanna taste,” you said around his dick.

His breathing turned choppy before he tensed. You felt his orgasm travel up his shaft before he moaned, releasing his cum in your mouth. You continued to milk him for every drop you could. You swallowed him all down.

He pushed at your shoulders to stop, sounds escaping him that you never heard from a man. “Too good,” he panted.

You grinned. You wiped at the corners of your mouth. “You’re dangerous,” he said.

You blinked up innocently at him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you said.

His eyebrows raised and he chuckled, wiping the sweat from his brow. “Remember you said that,” he said.

He scooted the chair back and stood up, helping you to your feet. He pushed you into the room and closed the balcony door, leaving behind a tiny crack to still let in the breeze from the ocean.

He unzipped your dress and dropped it to the floor, sighing at the look of your body. You never felt so cherished during sex. You weren’t expecting love and all that crap whenever you took someone to bed. It was more like an overwhelming itch that needed to be scratched.

After the deed, your anxiety returned with a vengeance and you were the first out of the door. No one wanted to deal with an anxious mess after getting off.

With Stunna, there was none of that usual nervousness or shyness holding you back. You just wanted him.

Your soaked panties went next. He knelt down, doing all the work of removing it. He kissed along your spine and back, the globes of your ass, and the back of your thighs. You shivered at the attention. The care with which he removed your panties.

He stood back up and unhooked your bra, freeing your breasts. He eagerly grabbed them from behind and rolled your nipples between his fingers. He pulled you until you leaned back against him.

“Can��t wait to get these in my mouth. I wanna be a gentleman, but fuck. I just want to break you,” he said.

A vicious tingle spread around your thighs. “I never asked you to be a gentleman,” you said.

He chuckled. “Fair, but I don’t wanna scare you away,” he said.

“I’m a big girl. I can use my words when I need to,” you said.

“Yeah? Get on the bed then. Hands and knees, bad girl,” he said. He smacked your ass, hard and you did as instructed. You climbed into his bed and got on your hands and knees.

You were too far away however. He grabbed your hips roughly and pulled you to the edge of the bed. He gripped himself and shoved into your inviting pussy with one savage thrust. His grip on your hip prevented you from escaping. You tried to lean forward, but he held you in place.

He pressed on your back until your chest was against the bed. Your ass was high in the air, giving him total access to you. He smacked your ass.

“You been talkin’ mad shit all night,” he said. He began to stroke, delivering hard and long thrusts that immediately found your G-spot.

“Oh shit!” You cried out.

“That’s my shit.” You heard the pleased grin in his tone. How did he find it so fast?

He continued to stroke, hitting your sweet spot over and over with military precision. He smacked your ass with one hand while the other kept a firm grip. “You ain’t so bold now. A little dick shuts you up?” He asked.

You couldn’t speak. He was slamming into you so hard, just the way you always dreamt of. It brought tears to your eyes. Most guys were afraid to be rough. Afraid of catching a case once you asked them to go a little deeper or stroke a little harder.

Not Stunna. He drove into you, seeking something you couldn’t name. It didn’t take long before you were convulsing, shaking on his dick.

“Talk to me, then. Say somethin’ else,” he said.

“Achgg,” you moaned, eyes rolling.

Stunna continued to work himself inside of you. His dick speared you. Nearly split you in half. You bounced back on his dick, giving as much as you got.

“Fuck,” he moaned. “Don’t let me stand in your way. You take what you need from me,” he said.

Wet, smacking noises filled the room. The sound of your combined fucking pushed another orgasm to the surface. Your ass clapped on his thighs. Your screams were sure to draw the attention of his neighbors.

He leaned forward and wrapped his hands around your throat. “Fuuh,” you moaned.

Both of you matched each other’s intensity. He pulled you by your throat to swallow every long inch of him. Your desperate thrusts sounded like thunder against his skin.

“Goh, goh, fuh,” you chanted in rapid succession.

“So good, so good. Pussy feel so good. You were made to take this dick, weren’t you? You were made for it,” he groaned.

Your hands feebly held onto the bed in front of you but there was no use. This was so intense and passionate that your orgasm crushed you into a tiny ball and flung you into a tornado. You screamed until you were hoarse. Drool leaked out of your mouth with your whiny cries.

Stunna continued to hold your throat and pound, chasing his own climax. “Greedy ass. Fuck, you take me so well,” he groaned.

You were shaking as you rode out your orgasm. As soon as you ended, he began. He flooded your pussy with his cum, roaring like an animal as he climaxed. Your body twitched and spasmed on his dick. His dick hit something deep inside, too deep to know what. But it hit a natural reset.

Stunna let go of your throat and held onto your hips to keep from falling on top of you. You both panted, harsh breaths filling the room. You sniffled as you recovered, brain quiet for once.

Stunna slipped out of you and he leaned back to watch his cum slip out. He panted and his breaths fell across your ass and pussy.

“Fuck,” he said.

You agreed. You never felt something like that before. Possessed. Owned. It was a feeling you would spend your entire life trying to find again. Would you be able to?

Both of you were too wobbly to move. As if with your dual climaxes, you had entered a new plane of existence. Being back in the real world sucked. It seemed foreign. You were changed by the experience so why hadn’t the world changed?

Stunna left to go to the bathroom and returned with a warm washcloth. You cried at the sensation. “Shh, shh, I got you,” he said.

The rough fucking was everything you needed but you were fucking sore. You ached. It felt too damn good for you to complain though. He gently cleaned you up, wiping you down and wiping off some of the sweat.

You curled up into a ball, trying to will yourself to move. To get dressed and make your escape. You felt like the sex police would descend from the ceiling and arrest you for upsetting the natural law of the universe.

You couldn’t move. You felt too raw, too exposed. You focused on your breathing, on drawing air in and then out. Stunna returned from the bathroom and you cringed at the picture you must make.

“I’ll leave just as soon as my legs work,” you mumbled.

Stunna chuckled. “Can you stay?” He sat on the bed in front of you. You were too afraid to look in his eyes. You didn’t know if you were over exaggerating the moment. You wouldn’t be able to bear it if you felt like your world tilted on its axis while it was just Friday night to him.

Stunna laid down on the bed and lifted your chin with his fingers. “Please, stay,” he whispered.

His eyes swirled with emotion. As if the moment you left, this would all disappear from memory. Until he wasn’t sure if he dreamt this or it was real. It only mirrored what you were feeling so you nodded and he grinned. “What you need?”

For your skin to feel like it wasn't going to slough off the moment you unfurled. You looked at him with wide eyes. He nodded as if he understood the turmoil inside of you. He stood up and then came around to lay behind you. His hands came around your arms and knees, pulling you into the heat of his body.

You sighed. Exactly what you needed. He pulled the covers over you, wrapping you in a tiny cocoon of heat. You drifted off to the sound of his quiet breathing. The last thing you felt was a tiny kiss behind your ear.

In the morning, you yawned and stretched. Stunna was asleep next to you. Somehow, you were laying properly in the bed, head on a pillow and his hand draped across your tummy. You watched him in the early morning light.

This was dangerous. Ludicrous. It was crazy to feel this type of connection with someone else. Someone so obviously built for you yet it couldn’t last. Tomorrow you were flying back home. On Monday, it was back to classes.

After taking a peek at the edge of the universe, how did you go back to normal? How did you carry on and keep this in your memory bank?

You had to get out. You lifted his hand to scoot away from him. Away from the oppressive heat that made sweat pool behind your knees.

Stunna groaned and sniffed, pulling you back against his side. “Where you think you going?” He asked.

You giggled. “Back to my suite,” you said.

“You was gonna sneak out? That’s cold,” he said. His deep voice was rough from sleep and it made your pussy flutter. Really? After all that last night, she was still ready to go?!

“Sneak is such an ugly word.” You sighed as he finally cracked one eye open and looked at you.

“At least let me get you breakfast. You can get changed and meet me right back here,” he said.

You laughed. “What if I have plans?” You asked.

“You do. With me,” he said.

You shook your head. “You’re crazy.”

He grabbed your hand and linked your fingers together. Your hands were perfect against each other, skin tones perfectly aligned.

“Please? Text your friends and tell them you’re safe. When do you leave?” He asked.

“Tomorrow,” you said.

“See? Give me one last day until we can figure out when we’ll see each other again.”

You sighed. You couldn’t say no to that face. Those eyes. You bit your lip and nodded. He grinned, peppering you with kisses all over your face.

He ordered room service and ate you out before it came up. He moaned and suckled while he did so, grinding his hips into the bed like he wanted to bury his face into your pussy forever.

When the food arrived, you talked and ate and laughed, sharing more details about yourself but not personal information like the fact that you were in school or where he was working. You talked through safe subjects but all the information you gathered about him, you held it close to your heart.

Each passing moment spent with him carved out a section of your heart and replaced it with a gorgeous, sexy man named Stunna. You did make it back to your room where your friends gushed over your night. You still had no words but you squealed while you showered and begged their forgiveness while you planned to spend the day with Stunna.

They encouraged you, admitting that in a move that surprised no one, they found their way to their own flavor of the day. They agreed to come back to the room at a decent hour to pack away their shit and figure out their flight.

You spent the rest of the day with Stunna, outside of his suite, walking around the resort. It had a small gambling area where he tried to show you how to play poker. He was a very sweet teacher, but you couldn’t make heads nor tails of the rules. You were more of a spades player, but good luck finding that shit here.

You shared desserts and walked along the beach, sitting in the sand in between his legs and talking some more. Stunna stole kisses throughout the day, unwilling to leave your lips for the second it took to breathe and join back together.

As night fell, you ate dinner with him and found your way back to his room where you slowly peeled each other’s clothes off. Where you feasted your eyes on his skin. Gasped as he entered you once more and you gave each other untold amounts of pleasure.

Where he held you like he loved you but fucked you like you stole something from him. You came, looking into his molten brown eyes, nuzzling your cheek against the stubble on his chin. He came with your legs pinned to the mattress and his dick threatening to fuck you into the mattress, the floor, and the next floor down.

You kissed and cuddled while you talked about talking to him every day. He entered you again while you were stubborn, saying you might be busy.

“Naw, this shit belong to me now,” he said while he thrusted into you for the…third time that night? Fourth? Who kept count while his delicious dick was inside you and you felt whole again? Complete.

“It belongs to me,” you said.

He grinned and bit your nipple, then licked away the sting. He continued to nibble across delicate skin, moaning when he found your other nipple and tugged with his teeth. You hissed and your back curved, giving him all the access he wanted.

“Do we have a problem?” He asked.

“Do we?” You countered.

He grinned and then slipped out of you, only to hike one of your legs up in the air. He reentered you from the side, slamming into you until you were crying and shaking on his dick, screaming out his name.

“Stay talkin’ shit,” he groaned as he filled you up once more.

Saying goodbye to him was the hardest shit you ever had to do. It was like you both knew that even with talking every day, it wasn’t the same. It wasn’t the same as lying next to him and feeling him take up space in the room, in your heart, in your pussy.

He kept tugging you back for one more kiss, asking if he could walk you to your room. You were blinking back tears. You didn’t want to leave him. But you couldn’t stay either. Both of you had places to be, lives to get back to.

He leaned in the doorframe, holding your hand and not letting you leave. You smiled. “Stunna, you have to let go.”

“I’on want to,” he said.

“It’s not forever,” you said, trying to sound hopeful. Your words only sounded sad. He sighed and rubbed his head on his arm.

“I know. I know.”

He pulled you close to him, capturing your lips with a devastating kiss. You licked his lips, committing the taste and smell of him to memory. “Not forever,” he said.

“Not forever.”

You turned and snatched your hand. If you didn’t, you wouldn’t have the strength to leave. A cold numbness seeped into your bones as you made the trek to your suite. Stella and Angela commented on how melancholy you seemed.

How could you explain it? That you possibly found your soulmate in Punta Cana and had to leave him here? To be happy with texts and phone calls? Poor substitutes to hugging him, cuddling him, kissing him, fucking him?

You told them that you were all fucked out to explain it now. Ask you in a week. When your heart wasn’t broken and the pain was less intense. Less potent.

They left you alone to wallow while you all packed up your things and souvenirs. The ride back home was uneventful. You weren’t up to the usual plane shenanigans of talking and comparing in-flight meals. You didn’t feel like eating at all.

You texted Stunna that you arrived safely and even spoke to him on the phone. But it only hurt worse. “C’mon, we said not forever,” he said.

The bastard was right though. Hearing his voice in your ear helped but it wasn’t the same.

“Not forever. I just want you here,” you said.

“I know. We did a few things backward, but when we’re comfortable, we’ll arrange something,” he said.

You talked until you absolutely had to go to sleep to get ready for class. Luckily, your first class of the day was in the afternoon. You had a chance to recover from the plane ride and time difference.

Everything was dull. The California sun was dull. The campus was boring. Students felt like aliens to you, playing and existing in a world that ended for you back in Punta Cana in Stunna’s arms.

You sighed, not for the hundredth time, as you dragged your carcass across campus and to your class. Settling into your literature class, you didn’t share this with Stella and Angela. You were left to look out of the window, mind far, far away.

Your pen tapped on the desk, picturing that accidental bump into Stunna over and over again. Act of fate? Accident? How could you meet the love of your life only for you to be ripped away from him and planted back into your normal life like nothing was wrong?

The door opened and you assumed your teacher came through. Whatever.

“Sorry, I’m late. Not used to the campus yet.”

Your head whipped around and there he was. Stunna stood at the front of the class wearing a deep brown sweater over chocolate colored pants. The sleeves were rolled up revealing his smooth forearms.

He wrote his name on the whiteboard and your heart seized in your chest. Panic made your heart pound against your rib cage, practically screaming to be let out. You sunk in your seat. Ohgodohgodohgodohgod.

Stunna turned around and smiled at the class. When his eyes found yours, his jaw dropped and he stared. He stared and stared and you didn’t know what he was thinking or what he was going to do.

He cleared his throat and smiled at the class, introducing his real name. Not that you thought Stunna was his real name, but it was the name he usually went by. His eyes kept returning to yours.

You…slept with your college professor. Your life was over. Ruined. How the hell could you fall in love with your professor? And what the hell were you going to do now?

The Secret Big Stunna Files | Part 2 | Part 3

#Megaminds Secret Files #The Secret Big Stunna Files #Big Stunna x Black!reader #Big Stunna x Black reader #x Black reader #Big Stunna x Fem!reader #Big Stunna x Fem reader #Big Stunna x reader #Big Stunna x you #yahya abdul mateen ii #yahya abdul mateen ii fanfiction #All Day and a Night fanfic #All Day and a Night fan fic #All Day and a Night fan fiction #All Day and a Night fanfiction #Yahya abdul mateen ii fan fiction

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dandylovesturtles · 1 year ago

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I should be in bed lol but I wanted to write a turtle tot sick fic so here

I went into this with no plan and it ended up uh. way sadder than I intended. whoops.

cw: mentions of vomit

...

Blue slept through naptime. That should have been Splinter's first clue.

In the moment, he'd just been so happy to actually have four sleeping children that he'd taken the opportunity for his own nap, the old, tattered storybook he'd been reading them draped over his face. He never managed to get Blue to wind down enough to sleep, so he usually had to quietly entertain him with books or the tv on low until the others woke up. But his Baby Blue had conked out almost immediately today, and soon Splinter was snoozing right along with them.

Blue was also the last to wake up. That should have been the second clue.

Splinter was woken up by Orange, talking in loud, disjointed sentences with plenty of nonsense words as he played with an old plastic telephone Splinter had found them. Red was racing his toy cars, making his own sound effects as they skid across the floor and crashed into the wall. Only Purple was quiet, industriously sorting his legos by color and size.

Splinter sat up, letting the book slide off his face, and took stock. It was surprising to see Blue still curled up against his leg even in the midst of all the racket his brothers were making. "Blue?" he said softly, giving the little turtle a nudge. Blue blinked his eyes open, groggily looking around. "Naptime is over."

Blue pushed himself up into a sitting position, then rubbed clumsily at his eyes. He looked so tired still that Splinter debated telling him he could keep sleeping, even if it might make putting him to bed later more difficult.

But once Blue was up, he saw Red racing his cars and pushed quickly to his feet, hurrying over to join in the game. Almost immediately he was demanding Red hand over one of the cars and setting up an elaborate make-believe track for their race, so Splinter let it go.

Thirty minutes later, Blue tugged on Splinter's old sweatpants and said, "Daddy, my tummy hurts." In hindsight, this is exactly when Splinter should have put it together.

But the kids rarely got sick - a benefit of whatever Draxum had put in the gunk that turned them into this, Splinter assumed. Which was a blessing, because he was pretty limited in what medicine he could get in his condition. The boys having a hearty immune system was one of the few things Splinter had going for him.

So he hadn't moved to that conclusion. Instead he said, "Do you need to go potty?" and Blue had considered that very seriously for a few seconds before nodding and rushing off to the bathroom.

Orange threw the plastic phone into Purple's meticulously organized lego piles and Splinter moved on to the next crisis without another thought.

It was at dinner, when he caught Blue pushing his food (mac'n'cheese!) around without interest, that it finally clicked that maybe he should be worried.

"Blue, what's wrong?"

Blue didn't so much as look up. He shrugged, swirling his noodles around and around.

Splinter would be embarrassed to admit how long it took him to remember their earlier conversation, but it eventually came back to him. "Ah... Is your stomach still hurting?"

Blue's face scrunched up in misery, and he nodded.

Splinter groaned in exasperation. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I did!"

"I mean after you went potty."

Blue grimaced. Instead of answering, he scooped up some mac'n'cheese and stuffed it in his mouth. He looked like he regretted it as soon as he'd done it.

"Do not spit that out," said Splinter immediately, because mac'n'cheese was one of the few things Purple would eat and if Blue spat it out in front of him it would go on his Bad Foods list for at least a month. And Orange had a habit of mimicking anything Blue did, which would only compound the problem.

Blue chewed and swallowed the mouthful agonizingly slowly. He looked so miserable afterward that Splinter felt bad about it.

"Are you going to throw up, Blue?" he asked, and got a furious head shake in response. "Are you just telling me that?" Another shake. "Do you want to keep eating?" A third shake. Splinter sighed and took his bowl from him. "Alright. I'll put this in the fridge, if you want it later."

Their mini-fridge was already stuffed full, but Splinter would simply have to make space, or throw all this mac'n'cheese out. He wished they had a bigger fridge, but just getting this back to the juncture in the sewers he called a home had been difficult enough.

He wished he had a bigger fridge. He wished he had a house. He wished he had a pediatrician to take Blue to. He wished he wasn't a rat man. He wished he and his kids were... normal.

It was a bad thought. He knew that as soon as he thought it, and he tried to push it down. The kids didn't need to know they weren't normal. That none of this was normal. He knew that, but...

"Throw up?" he heard Purple say, and then the telltale sound of him pushing his bowl away. Mac'n'cheese was on the Bad Foods list. Splinter groaned.

...

He found their old thermometer after the boys were finished eating. Getting a temperature from Blue was near impossible because he moved it around too much or spat it out before time was up, but Splinter would have to do his best.

After three tries, he got a reading that seemed accurate enough. Blue's body ran colder than a human child's, and it had taken observation and trial and error for Splinter to learn what constituted as a fever. As it was, Blue was only two degrees above his normal. So at least that wasn't too worrying.

He was still complaining that his stomach hurt, though. A stomach bug, then? Or just something he ate? Usually Red was the one who would put random things in his mouth unless Splinter kept a careful watch, but Blue and Orange were... adventurous eaters, too. It was possible.

They continued with their normal bedtime routine. Another thing Splinter had going for him was that his boys loved baths; getting them into their makeshift tub, even with lukewarm water, was always easy. From his research, Red, Blue, and Purple were all aquatic turtles, and Orange was not one to be left out of his brothers’ games no matter his biology.

Blue wasn't excited for bath time tonight, though. He sat quietly in the tub, making grumpy noises anytime he got splashed and playing only with his favorite blue shark toy, ignoring everything else. He definitely felt bad. Splinter was feeling increasingly terrible that he hadn't noticed.

He got them all toweled off and into their pajamas. Then into the pallet beds he had for them, all in one big shared alcove, a tattered curtain strung up for a semblance of privacy. They would need something more as they got older, but for now the boys seemed content to share space.

He tucked Red, Purple, and Orange in, then turned his attention to Blue. He had found an old bucket earlier that he (theoretically) used for mopping, and this he presented to Blue.

"If you are going to throw up, please do it in this," he told Blue. "We don't have any spare sheets."

"Not gonna," said Blue grumpily, pushing the bucket away.

"Ewww," whined Purple. "I don't want to share with Leo if he throws up."

"Not gonna!" Blue insisted, glaring at Purple, who glared back. Splinter sighed and pushed the bucket at Blue again.

"I am serious, Leonardo," he said, and that got Blue's attention. "If you throw up, do it in this bucket."

Instead of answering, Blue rolled over and scrunched himself up in a ball. That was the best Splinter was going to get, he supposed, so he just sighed and put the bucket next to Blue's bed.

"Good night, boys," he said as he got to his feet, ignoring the crackles from his back and knees.

"Good niiiight," came three echoes. Blue was giving him the silent treatment. Alright.

He went back to his own bed, sectioned off by an old divider screen he'd managed to find. Hopefully they could at least get through the night without disaster striking.

...

According to his beat up alarm clock, it was only two hours later when Red showed up by his bedside, shaking him awake urgently.

Splinter groaned his way into consciousness, blinking groggy eyes until his eldest son came into focus.

"Leo threw up," came Red's predictable report.

Splinter sighed, pushing his sheets aside and rising from his futon. "Did he make it in the bucket?"

Red's expression was not encouraging.

...

He had not made it in the bucket.

Blue sat stock still in the puddle of his own sick, eyes teary and expression a mix between stunned and embarrassed. Purple was pressed as close to the opposite wall as he could get, hands pressed tight over his nose and mouth. Orange was at Blue's side, patting his arm with his chubby little hand.

"Blue," Splinter snapped as soon as he saw the mess. "Why didn't you throw up in the bucket!?"

"Didn't think I was gonna," Blue croaked.

"Well, you did. All over your sheets." Splinter ran his hands over his tired eyes. "Now you have nothing for tonight. And who knows if I'll even be able to get the stain out. I may have to go all the way to the surface to get new ones, and do you know what a hassle that is!? The bucket was right here, Blue!"

"I'm sorry."

The miserable hiccup in Blue's voice effectively stopped Splinter's tirade, and he refocused on his son. Blue's tears had spilled over, streaking down his miserable face. He was shivering, hands clutching the fabric of his ruined sheets, wringing them tight. He looked terrified.

"I'm sorry, Daddy," he repeated. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

Something inside Splinter cracked.

Leo was only four, by his best guess. He was a baby, still. A sick baby, and Splinter was yelling at him about... about bed sheets?

Blue didn't know that Splinter would have to steal him new sheets. He didn't know that Splinter feared every time he did something so risky, that it might expose their tiny family to hostile forces - the human authorities, Big Mama's goons, Draxum's gargoyles. He didn't know that Splinter should be taking him to a doctor right now. He didn't know that sleeping on a pallet bed in the sewers wasn't normal.

He just knew that he had thrown up, and his dad was mad about it.

Immediately, Splinter stooped and scooped the still-apologizing Blue into his arms. He was getting bigger all the time, and, somehow, Splinter was getting smaller, but he could still hold his boys in his arms, still cradle them against his chest.

"Blue... Leo, listen to me."

"I'm sorry," Blue mumbled again, followed by a sad, wet hiccup.

"Shh, shh, no, my son, please listen." He waited until teary eyes were turned on him to continue. "You don't need to apologize. You did nothing wrong."

"Missed the bucket," said Blue, and Splinter shook his head.

"That's alright. You're sick. It is my job to take care of these things." He scratched at the back of Blue's shell with the arm holding him, something he knew always calmed Blue down. Sure enough, he felt his boy begin to relax. "Do not worry about the sheets. If Daddy needs to get more, he will. For now we will all share."

Blue sniffed, and buried his face in Splinter's chest. That was a good sign. Splinter kept up the scraching.

"I'm sorry I yelled. You aren't in trouble, Blue. You're alright."

Blue sniffled again. Hiccupped one last time. His tears were drying up, and his little voice said, "S'okay, Daddy."

"Oh, my Baby Blue... Thank you."

He still felt terrible as he lowered Leo back to his bed and started to strip away the soiled sheets, but Leo had calmed down considerably. He kept the bucket close, though, even as he laid back down again on his pillow.

"Leo can have my blanket," said Red, already pulling the old thing over. Splinter smiled gratefully at him.

"Thank you, Red. Blue, do you think you will throw up again?"

Blue shrugged. "Dunno."

"That's alright. It's okay if you do." Splinter smoothed the blanket over Blue, not tucking him in so he could move if he needed to. "I'll get this sheet washed out and be back, alright?"

Blue nodded. He was still gripping the bucket with one hand. Splinter rubbed his head, then stood up with his bundle of soiled sheets.

When he returned, with water for Blue, he'd thrown up again - in the bucket, this time. Orange was still by him, rubbing his arm, while Red sat behind him, supporting his back. Even Purple had come close, awkwardly patting at Blue's leg while pointedly avoiding looking at the bucket.

"Thank you for taking such good care of Blue," he told them, getting three beaming smiles in return.

They were all going to have the bug by tomorrow. Splinter would need to find more buckets.

#rottmnt #rise splinter #rise leo #dandy fanfiction #idk what this is lol #thinking about the early years gets me ok

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livelaughlovesubs · 10 months ago

Text

Hello! Welcome, 🪷 anon, I’m always happy about having new anons. Also, as you’ve noticed now, I’m not very quick to respond to asks… hopefully I didn’t make you wait too long (I know it’s been two months I’m sorry)

Dom!reader x sub!chuuya

Warning: handjob, edging, thigh slapping (?), cuffs, nipple play

“What do you say?” “Fuck, faster.” “Wrong answer.”

Chuuya laid on his back on the mattress, his arm were above his head and wrists cuffed together. You sat next to him and slowly moved your hand along his shaft. So slow actually that he weren’t sure if you were moving your hand. “Can’t you just finish this quickly? I don’t have time for your games.” The redhead uttered, urging you to go faster. “Who’s the one playing games? With your attitude you don’t get to order me around.” Then you pinched his nipples. “Argh- ugh! This hurts.” Sweat started to form on his forehead, he pulled an hesitant look. “That’s what bad boys get.” You smirked at him, hand stopping around his tip and using your fingertips to rub it.

“Haah… mhm, more, it feels good.” He demanded while he blushed more and more. “That’s not how you ask for something.” “Just do it.” You sighed, then spoke in a sad tone, “you still have a lot to learn huh.” And used the hand pleasuring him to slap his thighs, leaving a red imprint behind. “Huu-nghH? No- keep touching me.” This irritated him, his member was throbbing in an angry shade of red. “I am touching you though?” You kept slapping his thighs, they were soft and covered in lube and precum. “You..! I mean, ugh! You annoying-” “shhh, chuuya, think about what you are going to say and the consequences first.” Grinning from ear to ear as you whispered a warning, he knew you meant every word you said.

The boy bit his lips, arguing with his own pride whether or not he should just give in. Instead giving him some time to think, you slapped his thighs again and commented, “I’m getting sleepy at this point~” a sense of embarrassment washed over him, were you implying that he was boring? “Fine! ..please touch me…there.” It was adorable how he raised his voice so much only to whisper the main part. Should you be nice or mean today? He looks like he is going to cry if you tease him any more. That wouldn’t be a bad thing though.

You still decided to be understanding and touched his dick again, yearning a low gasp from the male. “There there, you can be good if you want to huh?” He ignored your remark, knowing better than to talk back when in this state. “More” chuuya mumbled, blinking a few times before hastily adding a please to his sentence. “Aha~ if you ask so nicely.” Your motions became a bit faster like what he requested, and you kissed his lips passionately. It surprised him a little, but he returned the kiss.

“If you are being good you’ll also get a reward.” You said in a playful manner, watching his body tremble with every touch. It tingled wherever your skin made contact with his, and it made his heart work an extra shift. The blood rushed to his head and lower body, it made him feel weak everywhere else. His arms, his knees and legs… more precum dripped down his member, creating an erotic view for you. “How adorable you are right now, hehe.” You chuckled at him, he looked like he was going to melt. “Shut up, ugh-hnn..” the boy ordered, totally ashamed of this situation, but also unbelievably aroused.

“Seems like you still have a foul mouth.” A disappointed expression on your face as your pace slowed down again. “Hu-?! Why you! Mhm, move faster god damn it.” Ah, seems like he was close. “Tsk tsk, not like that.” You advised him, then started to suck on his breast. “Hmm?! Mhm! Ga-ahhh..” whimpers escaped his lips at the newfound pleasure. He loved this, even if his words said something else. A dreamy look was on his face, he felt hot and on the verge of exploding. Your touch felt really pleasant against his burning skin. The bliss he felt was making his mind go blank.

“Ah-haaa.. I want to cum.” Chuuya said, he probably didn’t notice himself that he said this. You moved away from his now swollen nipple and licked your lips, observing the mess he (or you) made. His hair stuck to his reddish face, his eyes exposing his desires. Arms still raised over his head and wrists cuffed together, bruises were starting to form there due to him thrashing around. You could feel his twitching in your hand, probably very close to finishing. “Was that a question or command?” You asked him, but you weren’t sure if he understood you with how pleasure struck he looked.

“Mhm.. please, I can’t- anymore.” He begged, then pleaded again, “please, I wanna cum…hnNgg.” Some tears rolled down his already beautiful face, decorating it further. Your lovely partner looked like a helpless deer, so vulnerable and small you just loved this. “Hmm, I don’t know, have you been good enough?” Without thinking about it, he instantly replied, “yes- nghh! Please, ah, pleaasee.” You thought about it, he wasn’t being very good this time, but he was being pretty obedient towards the end. Maybe you should grant it to him? Or should you punish him a little longer? He started to cry when you still didn’t raise your pace, now going back to being a brat again. The boy started to squirm around and thrust his hips, all while whining “ughhh! Fuck, I can’t, mhm, please faster…”

Chuuya gazed at you with pitiful eyes and drool hanging from his lips, his eyes widened when he saw your expression. You were clearly enjoying this, you were enjoying yourself so much it was almost scary. A gentle yet terrifying smile appeared on your features, hinting at your decision. “Oh chuuya, you really ruined your chance with that one.”

#sub character #sub!character #dom reader #dom!reader #sub bsd #chuuya smut #sub bungou stray dogs

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ador3him · 4 months ago

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Sooo if I just start dumping brain rots here, I hope you don't mind. I need a distraction from worrying over work and losing sleep. And I figured why not share the thoughts so you can feel free to elaborate!

I loved when ppl would do the dad!dream team head cannons. But here's me with my insanely dirty mind going, yeah all 3 of these boys def have breeding kinks. But I feel like it would manifest in different ways based off their personalities.

Dream:

- I feel like he is the type of bf to absolutely spoil tf outta his partner. He just wants to keep you happy and support you in achieving your dreams. He's so thankful to have you, constantly worrying he'll lose you. Definitely gives me the vibes he would propose quickly, like 3 yrs max into your relationship, bc of it. He KNEW you were HIS! Like possessive but in a good way (but more on that in a few)

- Definitely teases you every time you need to refill your birth control... Like you complain about having to call and refill the prescription and he just goes "Or you could just not😏" "Oh you wish," you roll your eyes in response.

- or if you have an IUD or implant and you need to get it replaced and you're freaking out about the pain. Of course he wouldn't want you to endure that! Luckily, he has a better alternative idea!

- dream is the type to absolutely go feral on your wedding night. Officially having you as HIS! Yes, youve been intimate before, but this is where his breeding kink really comes into play. Definitely makes it a point call you by his last name at every opportunity.

- SIZE KINK! That man is so tall 🤤 And if it wasn't apparent by him having a series called "manhunt," he loves that he can easily over power you.

- your place is seated on his lap cockwarming him while he works

- I could see dream wanting a bigger family (3-4 kids) He's so close to his parents and siblings. Plus he has such a big heart. Having his own kids with you is a dream come true.

- they say that animals can tell when you're expecting. So of course, Miss Patches is the first to know about her new sibling. She's actually how you found out! One morning, you wake up to Patches laying on your stomach purring. She proceeds to follow you around the house, never leaving your side. She's lovey, but usually never this clingy. When you proceed to get sick later on bc of a bad taste or smell, you and Dream start to put the pieces together. Your suspicions come true when you both are starring down at the positive test in your hands.

- patches is your best buddy throughout your pregnancy. You can expected once the baby is born she'd sleep at the foot of the crib.

- OMG all the crazy baby shower ideas he'd have. He's just crazy excited to share the news with everyone.

- dream would cater to your every demand. He's just so appreciative that you're carrying your baby. He's definitely the type to hold your baby belly to give your back a break. He also low key grateful your sex drive hasnt decreased too much. You'd have to keep him at bay during the last month of your pregnancy if you don't want the baby coming out early 🤣

- singing to your baby bump and his heart exploding every time he feels the baby kick

- he holds your hand the entire time you're in the hospital. He's so scared for you. He won't leave your side, constantly making sure u have whatever you need, even if it requires bribing the nurses /j

- he's SO SO proud of you! The sight of his partner and baby melts his heart! Omfg definitely has a little striped (blue or pink) cat beanie for the hospital.

- he is the type to take you and the kids on different family trips like to see football games and the beach.

Sapnap:

- he's definitely more the reserved type. Doesn't want to rush into things you arent ready for. But don't let him deceive you, he fantasizes about you pregnant in a sundress, with your swollen belly and tits, regularly.

- once you both decide it's the right time, there is no stopping the beast. It's his fucking mission to breed you multiple times a day

- that being said, he downloaded a app to track your ovulation cycle. Whenever he gets a notification, he immediately drops what he's doing and is on you in an instant

- sure Sap is on the shorter side, but he is still taller than you. And sure as heck broader. Again is the type to love that he can easily manhandle you

- again Milo and Naomi are the first to know and are your cuddle buddies

-also gives the vibe of wanting a bigger family (3-5). Also googled what a group of pandas is called, an embarrassment, a cupboard, or a bamboo.

-will also spoil the crap out of you and the baby.

-he gives the vibes of construction dad. Like already putting up the fence and swing set in the yard and the kid isn't even born yet. But this is very useful during your nesting phase, so your house gets a make over

-loves setting up the nursery with you and picking out baby clothes and stuffed animals

-he gives the vibes that he would enjoy going to like those couples birthing exercise classes with you. Like you both get a little workout and get to socialize with other couples (That's so random but it makes sense to my brain)

-scared asf when you go into labor. Panic mode activated! He gives the vibes where you wouldn't know if the doctor is giving breathing instructions to you or him. He would fight anyone who pissed you off tho. Full papa bear mode, just wanting to protect you. But it's all worth it when you and the baby turn out fine!

-Will definitely ask the doctor when you can get pregnant again

-Dad bod.... Yup, no explanation needed.

-he would be the coach of his kids sports teams. You will be the mini van parent. He's constantly playing with them outside. Definitely a road trip dad.

-would love doing his little girl's hair.

George:

-breeding kink goes brrrr. He would be such a dilf omfg 🤤

-even more reserved relationship wise. Doesn't want to rush anything. Just wants to appreciate your relationship. Not showy of your relationship either.

-you wait to have kids for a while after being married. You have to figure out if you'll live in the US or UK.

-that doesn't mean however that your sex life is boring. If anything it's polar opposite and you're surprised you didn't end up accidentally having kids sooner. Especially with George loving to mark you as his

-whether it's constantly having his hand on you whenever your out, the constant array of hickeys on the two of you, or the fact his cum is almost always buried in you. There is no doubt in your mind that your only HIS.

-george gives cuddle sex vibes. Like cock warming and somnophilia are 2 things up his alley.

-im tired of the George is short slander! That boy is lanky! And he can definitely put you in your place! He loves that if you're on the smaller side he can encompass you. And if you're taller, he loves that you submit to him.

-He gives me the vibes that one day he will just decide to wisk you away somewhere for a month long vacation and you aren't coming back without a baby in you.

-He gives me the vibes of being a dad of twins. Will tease you that you're such a fertile couple he put 2 kids in you, and that you'd have to be careful not to have more.

-As soon as he finds out you're expecting, he goes into research mode. Definitely reading books on what is best for you to eat to avoid nausea and he cooks for you. Just wants to make sure you are taken care of.

- Definitely tries all your weird pregnancy cravings with you

- cuddles constantly. He would love talking to your belly and would rub your back and feet for you. He holds your hair back and rubs your back when you're sick. The pure joy on his face when he feels the baby kicks. So protective of you too! No one is coming near you. Him and you keep your relationship private and your pregnancy a secret til the babies are born.

- OBSESSED with your pregnant body. Worships it. Like if you're ever insecure, he can't fathom it. Makes his point to prove just how much he loves it😉

- side bar, man definitely has a lactation kink

- he doesn't want you to be worried at all and you both do a lot of research. So when you go into labor, George is your number one supporter. Gets you all your favorite foods so you aren't hungry when u can't eat. Holds your hand during your entire C-section, kissing all over your face and constantly telling you how much he loves you.

- when both babies arrive, you both are holding them, cuddled up on the hospital bed. He feels like his life purpose is complete. He is in awe of your strength and how tiny the babies are. Will make sure to count all their fingers and toes and fuss over every little hair on their heads.

- when it's just the two of you in the room, you cuddle and take a well needed food break and fall asleep together.

- he would be the one to check on the kids at night to let you sleep

- he's so smart so he'd be the best to help with homework. And you bet the kids are carbon copies of him!

Okay that's my rant.... I have to try and sleep now bc work 😴 have a good day!

omg I'm obsessed with this. little points I wanna expand on.

SAPNAPS DAD BOD IS SO REAL HE WOULD OMG. AND THE CONSTRUCTION THING!!! he would totally build a tree house or clubhouse for your kids.

GEORGE AND YOUR KIDS WOULD BE HIM. His brown, thick hair would be the main thing they got along with his pale ass skin. And the way he would be so protective of you and your kids. He would def not show you or your kids until it was like really serious and your kids are born. He would blur out your kids faces though and only refer to the kids as nicknames not their real name.

Dream would be obsessed with breeding, on your wedding night he could barely make it to your hotel room. He'd def research beforehand to know the best positions for impregnating you. And he for sure have mini cat hats ready for your baby when they're born with their name embroidered into it.

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justwearthegoddamncardigan · 1 year ago

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could you possibly do a platonic gladers thing where reader was the first to come out of the box? like they came up with the note like teresa but “the first” if that makes sense 😭 anyway the reader is just sort of a parental figure to everyone? whatever gender you’d like to put and scenarios, the thought just popped in my head. ofc do this only if you’d like to!! pls don’t feel obligated!! love ur work <333 /p

HI LOVE THIS!! Thank you for the request ❤

Everyone loves Y/n

Platonic gladers x gender neutral!reader, set during tmr (movieverse)

3k - longish fic but worth it if you love platonic love 🫶

Warnings: discussions of Newt's suicide attempt; but more like the recovery after it, still please take care everyone, also language warning

1. Alby

You're the first one. Welcome.

You stuff the crinkled note back in your pocket just as you've done so many times before, re-examining it and hoping for some clue as to why you're stuck in here alone.

Except- you're not alone anymore.

The boy stands beside the Box, staring around the same way you did when you first climbed out, exactly 30 days ago.

Come on, Y/n. Time to go. You take a deep breath, resolving yourself, and you step out from where you'd been standing hidden in the trees.

The guy notices you immediately and takes a defensive stance, understandably hostile and scared. "Who are you? Don't come any closer!"

"Woah, hey," you raise your arms nonthreateningly, continuing to move slowly towards him. "It's alright."

"Where am I?" demands the boy.

"To be honest, I haven't got a clue," you tell him. "But you've got no idea how happy I am to see you."

His eyes narrow. "What?"

You shrug. "I thought I'd be alone here, forever."

At his silence, you continue. "So I've been here for a month. I was sent up in this Box, like you, with a bunch of resources and... hey, they've sent more stuff," you say happily, peering into the Box.

"Alright listen man," you say. "I don't really have answers for you, but I did start developing a routine for how to live here, and I'd love for us to work together."

The boy holds your gaze for a second, before giving a single nod.

You let out a sigh of relief. "Great, wonderful. I'm Y/n, by the way." You stick out your hand to shake. "Oh- memories. Your name is all you get, everything else is gone. But hey, let's make new memories here, together." You flash a cheesy grin and clap the guy on the shoulder.

You don't know how someone conveys sarcasm in a single look, but the new guy manages it just fine.

2. Minho

"Here, this way- shit."

You turn the corner and see the wall sliding into place, sealing off your exit.

"Which way now?" asks Minho, fear evident in his voice.

"Uh- that was already my backup route," you say honestly, backing away from the closed wall. "Just follow me, we'll find another way back."

You start down a lane, moving faster now, admittedly guessing your way through the paths and taking turns on instinct, aiming for the vague direction of the Glade.

Somewhere across the Maze a Griever lets out a screech.

"Yeah, okay," you mutter. Shuck. "In here, quickly," you direct, pushing Minho ahead into a smaller lane.

"Alright, here's the deal." You squat down, forcing Minho down with you, and keeping your voice low. "If I'm right, we're close to the Glade now. There should be a right turn at the end of the path next to us now, then a left and a straight shot back to the Glade."

"What if you're not right?" hisses Minho, wincing at the Griever's screech.

"Then we're dead," you say flatly. "Cause that Griever's in the same direction we're going. By the sound of it, we'll be running the path right beside it's lane."

"What."

"Look, Minho. Do you trust me?"

He hesitates, before; "Yes, fine. Let's go."

You shoot him a grin, patting his shoulder. "Perfect. Follow me, stay close."

You run through the route you'd explained to Minho, feeling your blood chill as you get closer to the Griever, its screeches becoming deafening.

You turn to check on Minho, who gives you a firm nod despite the terror you can see in his eyes.

The two of you turn into the final stretch, separated from the Griever by a single wall, and you sprint back to the Glade, heart pounding in your chest.

You collapse into the grass, breathing heavily as Minho falls in beside you.

"What the hell happened to you two?" demands Alby, running up to you and Minho.

You sit up. "Maze changed, and there was a Griever near the Glade," you explain. "Too near."

"Bloody hell," says Newt, hands balanced on his hips. "Are you sure this was a good idea?"

So far you and Alby have been the only people to enter the Maze. Today was meant to be a beginner's run for Minho, your newest Glader and technically the Greenie even though he's never acted like it. You wanted to build a team of Runners, to see if more people could help with searching for an exit.

You look to Minho, still bent over in the grass. "Let's talk in the hut," you say, patting his arm.

"What did you think?" you ask, after you've both gotten water and a few minutes to let the adrenaline fade.

Minho flicks his gaze up at you, before dropping it. "I freaked out. I don't think I'm cut out for this Runner klunk."

You hum softly, tapping on the table Gally had lovingly built and sanded until it shone. "Do you think everyone was immediately good at their jobs?"

"Running is different," responds Minho, dodging the question.

"You were fast," you say. "I think you'd beat any of us in a race if we bothered to test it out. And you've got a level head, which is the most important thing when you're in the Maze."

You lean forward. "But you also need the guts to set foot in the Maze in the first place. And Minho, you were the first volunteer to run with me today. That's exactly the bravery we need in Runners."

You're met with silence. "If I asked you to be a Runner," you say quietly. "Would you say yes?"

"You could be asking the wrong person," hedges Minho.

"I don't think so," you say.

"I- why? Why me?"

"Because I believe in you," you say simply. "I think you could do it."

The silence stretches as you wait for Minho's response. Then; "Okay, I'll do it." He gives you a nod, expression resolving.

You sit back, a mock-thoughtful expression on your face. "I mean, I said if I asked you, this was really more hypothetical-"

"Y/n, I swear-"

You let out a laugh, and Minho rolls his eyes at you, grinning.

3. Newt

Overtime, the Gladers have grown into a wider community, with new jobs and groups slowly added.

Alby steps into the leader position and you move into your gardening job, as well as mentoring the Medjacks on the side. You tend to pick up a little of every job, passing what you know to newly formed groups until they can develop on their own.

Minho's grown far beyond what you could have expected from him, moving on to memorising routes, constructing a scarily detailed Map, and hand-picking the new Runners.

Newt becomes a Runner too, and you almost lose him.

They're some of the worst memories you'll ever have, that day Minho ran in in the freezing morning, screaming for help. The Medjack hut was finished literally a day before, and the Medjacks themselves were barely trained to patch up the Slicers. So everyone turned to you... And you were so, so, out of your depth.

You'd built a temporary brace for your own twisted ankle from your first month alone in the Glade, but for this you were completely unqualified and unprepared.

It’s been months now, with Newt slowly healing overtime. You worked with the Medjacks to set up a few movement drills, but it’s been painstakingly slow progress.

“I want to try walking again.”

You lift your gaze to Newt in the dark. “Now?”

“I wanna go outside.”

You hesitate.

“Come on, Y/n, I barely got five steps in today before Jeff made me sit down again. I’m fine, I promise.”

“You’re fine when the Medjacks say you’re fine,” you reply.

“The Medjacks don’t know shit,” retorts Newt. “They’re just making stuff up as they go. That’s what we’ve all been doing.”

“I trust them,” you say steadily. “Alby and I chose them for a reason.”

“Y/n, can you please just let me outside.”

You let out a breath. “Fine. Take your crutches.”

You don’t go far; the ground is too uneven and the crutches slip in the grass. You end up dropping them near the top of a hill.

“Here, let’s sit.”

You reach a hand out to Newt, which he thankfully takes, letting you help him down so you’re both lying back on the grass, facing up at the night sky.

“It was a good idea,” you say, breaking the silence. “I get why you wanted to come out.”

"Yeah," says Newt. He jerks his chin upwards. “The stars, they’re what I’m here for.”

You tip your head back, following Newt’s eye line. “You know, my first night here, I hadn’t built a place to sleep. I just lay on the ground like this, looking up at the stars.”

Newt shifts, moving one hand to point upwards. "I recognise most of the constellations," he tells you.

"Really?"

"Yep. That's Orion, right there. And over there is Gemini. And that star is Sirius, in Canis Major."

You search your mind for a hint of a memory, trying to call up knowledge you might have had before being put here.

"It's all bullshit," says Newt.

You turn to him in surprise.

"The stars," he says, still staring upwards. "None of them should be arranged like that, the constellations wouldn't be that close, or even in the same area, if this was real."

"Oh," you say, voice soft.

Newt lets out a flat laugh. “I don’t know why they let me keep this knowledge, when they’ve taken everything else away.”

He sits up, eyes flicking down to you. “…sorry.”

You shake your head, sitting up and turning to face him. “It’s okay. I’d rather you say this stuff than keep it bottled up.”

“Right,” says Newt. “I guess we should… get back to the hut.”

Neither of you move to get up.

“Newt,” you say. You face forward, resting your arms loosely around your knees.

”Yeah?”

“Please stay with us,” you say, voice quiet. You turn to him, letting go of your legs to gently take his hands. “We need you, I- we- okay, let me just-” You take a deep breath. “Listen, we’re gonna get out of here some day. And I want to sit with you under real skies, with real stars, so you can tell me each and every constellation you see. Cause I know your nerdy ass studied all of them in another life, and I don’t know, when we run out, we can just... make up new ones? I think that’s something I want to do with you.”

“Yeah, okay- yes. Okay.” Newt’s eyes are wet, and he squeezes your hands right back.

“And talk to us,” you continue. “When you’re struggling, or hurting, or… anything. Just talk to us, Newt. Please. We need you, and we care about you, so much.”

“I’ll try, I’m trying.”

“That’s all I’m asking,” you say.

“God, okay,” you start, after staying there under the stars for a while. “Look at us. Let’s get back in the hut, c’mon.”

You help him up, handing him his crutches.

“So, we’re trying,” you say, looking Newt in the eye.

“Yes, we’re trying.”

You get the smallest of smiles from him, and count it as the biggest win.

4. Gally

"First he breaks all our rules, then he tries to convince us to abandon them entirely? These rules have held us together for years, why are we questioning them now?"

You frown slightly, taking in Gally's words from your seat at the back of Council Hall.

"If Alby was here, he'd agree with me, and you know it."

You watch pain flicker across Newt's face for a second, before he speaks. "Let's take a break. I want Minho, Gally, and Y/n in here, the rest of you just give us ten minutes."

As the others clear out, you join the three in the centre of the room.

"Newt, this really isn't complicated. That shank broke our rules, and he needs to be punished," says Gally.

Newt sighs, and you notice how tired he looks. He needs Alby. "You're not wrong, Gally, but..."

"Y/n, what are you thinking?" asks Minho, jerking his chin at you as Newt trails off.

You raise your eyebrows. "You know I have no say in this, Min. I'm not a Keeper, or any kind of leader. I'm pretty much just here to watch the meetings."

"Seriously, Y/n?"

"Fine," says Newt. "Then suppose we're asking you as friends asking a friend, not as a council leaders or Keepers."

"I don't-"

"Just speak, Y/n," says Gally exasperatedly.

"I- alright, the idea that Newt's having right now, mine's the same."

"Well, we'd love to hear it from your mouth," says Minho drily.

"Yeah Y/n, what am I thinking?" Newt crosses his arms, lifting a brow.

You sigh. "Punish Thomas for breaking the rules, but make him a Runner."

"You can't be serious," says Gally immediately.

Newt shrugs. "They're right, that's what I was thinking."

"I'm down to train him," says Minho. "I think he'd make a good Runner."

"Good. Call the Council back in then, we'll make the announcement."

"You're making a mistake," says Gally angrily. "Tell the others without me." He storms out as the rest of the Keepers file in.

"Gally-"

"Nah, Fry."

"I got him," you say, nodding at Frypan.

"You're alright," you whisper as you brush past a stressed-looking Thomas. You squeeze his shoulder reassuringly, and he gives you a small smile of gratitude.

You shut the door behind you, chasing Gally down as he storms into his hut.

"Gally wait-"

"I don't want to hear it, Y/n."

He slams his door shut, closing you out. You sigh, and let yourself in.

"Get out of my hut, Y/n."

"Stop, Gally," you say sharply. "Just listen."

Miraculously, he stays quiet, leaning back on the wall and crossing his arms.

"I... I know you're scared, Gally."

"What-"

"Oh my god, just hear me out," you huff, rolling your eyes. "Okay, so yes, we just got attacked by Grievers, right here in the Glade. And yeah, it's probably linked to Thomas. And- yes, making him a Runner and letting him pretty much just fuck around and find out could put us in danger. ...But he's also the closest we've ever been to understanding the Maze and this whole place. I think he's the key to getting us out of here."

You sit down on Gally's bed, gesturing for him to sit down beside you. He lets out a huff, but reluctantly takes a seat.

You look him in the eye. "Gally I've been here for three years, and it's great. We've built a structure, a life, a goddamn society. But I really, really want to see the outside world."

Gally scrubs a hand over his face, dropping his gaze. "Yeah, I know, Y/n. I'm just- I'm trying to keep everyone safe. Newt and Minho are blinded by this hope, they're believing too much in one guy who's been here for literal days."

"I know, I know. But we need to take that risk, if we want to get out of here, alright?"

Gally sighs, then nods. "Yeah, fine."

"I'm gonna help Thomas, and Newt and Minho in whatever plans they make."

You hold out your fist. "Promise me you'll follow the plans we make, and stick with us. Don't... you know, make your own group and stay here and get killed, or whatever you were planning to do."

Gally rolls his eyes at you, and reluctantly brings his fist up to knock against yours, following through with the handshake the two of you used to do after building something, back when you used to help out with the other jobs. "Yeah, yeah, we get it Y/n. You've been here the whole time, you know us sooo well, you can read our minds."

You grin widely. "Damn right I can."

5. Thomas (everyone loves Y/n)

"Do you think this'll work?" asks Thomas, chewing on his lip worriedly.

"Of course it will," you say. "Have a little faith in your plan, Thomas. You don't need approval from me."

Thomas huffs out a laugh. "Thanks. It's nice to hear you're confident, though."

You raise your eyebrows, smiling a little confusedly. "I mean, I'm glad my support motivates you."

Thomas squints his eyes at you. "Y/n, you know you're like... super respected, right?"

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, everyone looks up to you. You don't notice the way people turn to you in tense situations and stuff? You're kinda like an understated leader, I guess."

"Ah, right." You smile at him. "It's cause I was the first person here, which I do get credit for, I don't know why. Totally underserved, Alby's the one who built this place."

"Bullshit." You turn in surprise as Minho walks in, Newt following behind him.

"What?"

"Undeserved credit, my ass," says Minho, crossing his arms. "If it wasn't for you, I wouldn't be a Runner."

"Yeah," says Newt, coming over to your side. He props an elbow on your shoulder, grinning at the frown you send him. "And you know what," he says quietly. "If it wasn't for you, I might not even be here."

You smack his arm. "Don't even say-"

"Gally, tell Y/n we love them," interrupts Minho.

"Huh?" Gally lifts a brow, before nodding. "Yeah, everyone loves you, man. Don't take it personally. If it wasn't for you, I probably wouldn't even be on board with this plan right now."

"Ugh-" you pinch the bridge of your nose.

Thomas leans in. "Told you so."

"God, let's just do the plan. Let's go, everybody out," you say hurriedly, shoving Newt out, ignoring Minho's snickers.

You stand between Minho and Gally as Thomas and Newt explain the plan to the Gladers, feeling yourself surrounded by friends; family.

Time to get out of here.

The end chapter is cheesy but I love it thank you for reading <3333

#the maze runner #platonic gladers x reader #alby x reader #minho x reader #newt x reader #gally x reader #thomas x reader #my writing

388 notes · View notes

muiitoloko · 4 months ago

Note

Hiii, may I req for either a colin firth/reader or harry hart/reader fic wherein theyre exes turned lovers? Thank u !!

Title: In the Line of Love

Summary: When duty demands they act as a romantic couple, Harry and his ex-girlfriend can no longer avoid the tension that simmers between them. Old wounds resurface, but so does the undeniable chemistry they once shared.

Pairing: Harry Hart × Fem! Reader

Warnings: implied sex, foul language

Author's Notes: Honestly, I had no idea what to write, so I just ended up putting together something short and quick. Sorry about that! My brain has been on a bit of a vacation lately 😅