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reidrum · 2 months ago

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how dare you think it's romantic, leaving me safe and stranded

A/N: if i stared at this any longer it would never see the light of day...so here she is! this is the longest fic i've ever written and i'm kinda gagged about that but i really hope you like it and if you don't that's okay too this is just silly angsty brainrot anyways thanks for reading this my inbox is open if you wanna yap more summary: in which your kidnapping forces you and spencer to face the fallout following your recently ended relationship cw: angst, hurt/comfort, reader is kidnapped/held hostage, implications and mentions of SA to reader but nothing happens, cm type violence, ex!spencer, lowkey lovers to enemies back to lovers, cat adams, medical jargon, miscommunication trope, the bau team is family, afab!reader, pet names wc: 5.1k

Every case you and Spencer have been on has been insufferable for the rest of the team since your falling out, if it had to be given a name. Everyone always had to deal with your constant bickering and harsh words. It was the same in every case, a difference of opinions that led to incessant fighting between you two, Hotch would have to separate you both and use your joint intelligence separately for the sake of keeping everyone alive.

This last case was nothing different, a serial killer in Athens, Georgia who was religiously sacrificing young women in the name of a cult. Both of you fighting over what you believed the other to be wrong about in their part for solving the case. Spencer thought the unsub would have struck in a zone closer to his home, you assumed he was only going after women who resembled someone in his life. The real problem was that you were both wrong.

And it ended with you being held hostage.

It all happened so fast. You were in the car with Spencer and Rossi driving out to the unsub’s house to check for new evidence when you had stopped at a gas station about 15 miles out from the house to refuel. Rossi got out of the car to pump the gas, Spencer sat in the passenger seat, and you went inside to use the bathroom and grab a quick snack.

You quickly washed your hands after finishing in the bathroom and wiped your hands on your pants, still slightly damp as you turn the handle of the door. As you’re perusing the aisle looking for a snack, you can feel the presence of watchful eyes on you. Casually, you slowly look up and around at the source and clock a figure an aisle over with a cap turned downward blocking their face.

Your gut was sending flares up, telling you that danger was near. You nonchalantly walk over to the aisle he’s in, pretending to look at the nuts and dried fruits while attempting to get a look at his face. In a (maybe not so) bright idea, you think to knock a bag of nuts on the floor next to the lurker’s feet in the hopes he’ll bend down to pick it up for you.

With a push of your hand, the bag knocks off the shelf and onto the floor and you both bend down to pick it up.

“I’m so sorry about that,” you chuckle lightly, “I’m such a clutz.”

“No problem at all, Miss—.” He stops talking all of a sudden, you’re unsure why. You follow his gaze to your left hip where your FBI credentials are peaking out.

Shit.

He draws a weapon faster than you’re able to react with getting your own out, and by the time yours is out the barrel of his is flush with your forehead.

“Drop it.”

You quickly recognize the man as your unsub, miles away from his hunting ground and about to stray from his victimology with you.

“Come on, up. We’re going for a little ride.” He snarls, glancing outside at the black SUV with your colleagues. He grabs you by a hairful and drags you out the back door, shooting the gas station clerk before making the escape with you to his pickup truck. You’re shoved against the car door, back facing him, as he place a zip tie on your wrists and opens the door to sit you in the back seat. The unsub gets in the driver’s seat and starts the car, glaring at you through the rear view mirror, “I’m gonna have fun with you, fed.”

Meanwhile, back in the car Rossi stands at the pump waiting for the tank to fill and Spencer remains in the car looking over the case details once more. He can’t help but feel something is wrong, but can’t place his finger on it. He looks over the details again meticulously, searching for a fault anywhere in your, or even his own logic. Rossi closes the tank and hops back in the car, “She’s not back yet?” he pondered.

Spencer hadn’t even realized you weren’t back yet, “I guess not,” something wasn’t right, “She went ten minutes ago right?”

Rossi nods, opening his mouth to speak when a gunshot coming from the gas station cuts him off. The men look at each other, eyes widened and rush out of the car, weapons drawn.

“FBI!” Rossi enters, looking for any sign of you but coming up empty. Spencer takes note of the disheveled store, produce and cans lying astray. He steps around the mess to find an out of place bag of sour gummy worms on the floor in the middle of an aisle only filled with nuts and dried fruit.

Sour gummy worms were your favorite.

A sinking feeling settles in Spencer as he tries to fight the reality his brain is trying to tell him. He looks to Rossi with a pained expression, and Rossi matches it back.

“He took her.”

___

The next few hours are a blur for Spencer.

Rossi called the team to meet them at the gas station, already telling Garcia to hack into the security cameras to find any clue of where he’d taken you. Emily and Derek were checking out the crime scene, Hotch and Rossi talking to the sheriff. JJ finds Spencer staring off onto the one road connected to the station.

“We’re gonna find her, Spence.”

He whips his head up at the sound of her voice, “I should’ve realized sooner. I knew there was something off about his MO, a—and I just couldn’t place it. And now she’s gone and it’s all my fault and I never—“

“Spencer,” JJ interrupts softly, “You couldn’t have known. None of us did, even her.”

“I should have,” he laments, “And if she…if something happens to her because I wasn’t paying attention…” He trails off, too afraid of what his brain thinks is the ending of the sentence.

JJ offers him a sympathetic look, understanding the conflicting emotions, “We’ll find her, she’s strong. You know that.”

He stares back at her hoping, praying, that she’s right and you’re going to be okay. You have to be.

He’s pulled out of his head by Morgan calling him and JJ over, telling Garcia on the phone to repeat her findings.

“Okay, I think I have a lead based on the security camera footage on the car he has and where it’s been last seen. I’m sending the last known coordinates to your phones now.”

An idea springs to him, “Garcia, can you also check the gas station records and see how much he filled his tank?”

The clacking sounds of her keyboard ring through the phone before she speaks again, “He didn’t fill a full tank, only like, fifteen miles worth of gas.”

Everyone looks up at each other in realization of what the new information means. You had to be close by. Morgan walks over to tell Hotch, who immediately talks to a state ranger about setting up a 15 mile radius around the gas station with monitored roadblocks, no entry or exit without inspection.

After Hotch finishes he walks back to Spencer and lays a hand on his shoulder, “Good job, Reid,” He nods back with a thin lipped smile and fiddles with his pen anxiously, “Are you okay?”. Spencer can’t tell if he’s genuinely asking him or if he’s asking him for the sake of him being able to do his job properly considering the circumstances. Ever the profiler that man is, he thinks. He nods again nonetheless and walks over to meet Derek at the car.

Spencer and Derek get into the car and set the route for the coordinates Garcia gave, ETA 14 minutes. He swallows nervously, do you even have 14 minutes? What if he’s too late? What if you’re not even there? What if he never got to tell you—

“Reid. Are you even listening?”

“What?”

Derek raises his eyebrows as he glances at his friend, “Got something on your mind?”

“Nothing.”

“You’re a shit liar, man.”

“I’m not lying.” Even he doesn’t believe himself.

“Spencer—“

“I’m just worried! Okay? We’re all worried, it’s not a big deal.” he snaps.

Derek stops at a red light and looks over the console, “I’m going to ignore whatever that was,” guilt sweeps over Spencer’s face as he continues, “I’m not stupid kid, I know how you’re feeling. But you can’t let whatever turmoil you got in that big brain of yours affect this case. Not now.”

“I know that, Morg—“

“No, you don’t. I know you’re thinking about her, we all are. And we all want—need—her to be okay too. We will find her, but we can’t let the unsub get away too.”

Spencer sighs outwardly seeing the truth in his words. As concerned as he was about you he needed to remember this was still an active case. He couldn't let your past with each other cloud his judgement, even if the fallout still haunts him every day of his life. He needs to save you, but he also has a job to do. He just wasn’t sure if he’d remember that when they finally found you.

——

A pounding in your head stirs you awake, the bitter taste of metal flooding your senses as you come to. You blink a few times adjusting to the lowlights of the unfamiliar environment, hoping to find something distinguishable to ground you back to reality. It doesn’t help once you realize the blood crusted over your eye is the reason for your obscured vision. You attempt to rub it off on your shoulder ignoring the sharp pains shooting up from the abrasive contact.

Once you think you’ve cleared enough you blink a few more times registering your surroundings to be a house, a cabin more accurately. Your memory is a little fuzzy as you try to recount what happened before you were knocked out cold.

Gas station. Unsub. Unsub at the gas station? But where was I…I went to the bathroom… and was getting…gummy worms?… But Rossi and Spencer were just outside… now I’m here…so does that means the unsub—

“Oh good, you’re awake.”

You jolt at the voice—the unsub you’ve come to remember—and you realize your hands are tied up behind your back, quickly coming to the second realization that you are rendered both injured and immobile.

“What do you want, Jason?” you say hoarsely after a minute.

He chuckles, “I didn’t know they made them so pretty at the academy…” he walks over and kneels in front of you, gripping your chin between his forefinger and thumb to move your head, “They probably kept you around for…entertainment right?”

You whip your head, “Don’t fucking touch me.”

“Oh, you’re feisty. That’s good, keep it up. Makes this more fun.” he walks back over to the table and fiddles with something, you can’t really tell from the floor, “So how’d they make it work back in—what is it called—Quantico! They take turns with you or? There’s so many of y’all, probably had a system.”

The pounding in your head makes it more difficult to process anything he’s saying, “The hell are you talking about, take turns with what?” you ask, wincing through another wave of pain.

He turns around holding a metal rod and walks over, angling the rod under your chin to tilt your face up to meet his as he snarls, “I can’t wait to see how it feels to fuck a federal whore.”

All the color drains from your face and you kick into whatever gas is left in your autopilot. Your feet are flailing in every direction, body thrashing violently to prevent Jason from getting a good grip on you. You quickly learn the purpose of the metal rod hearing the clang! first, a millisecond passing before the pain and threat of unconsciousness spreads through your brain.

The hit takes you out long enough for him to pin you down on the floor, the weight of his body landing on you before the metal rod goes for your limbs. It’s then you realize the throes of death have wrangled you for what appears to be the last time, and it’s probably wise to start saying—thinking— your final words.

To my parents, I love you. To Derek and Penelope, thank you for letting me third wheel with you. Emily, I’ll miss our weekend Sin City excursions. JJ, please give your boys the biggest hug from their favorite aunt. Rossi and Hotch, you always cared for me like I was your own—I am so grateful for you.

And Spencer…Oh, Spencer. How I hoped I would have the time to say I’m sorry for what happened, I hope you’ll forgive me in due time. I wish I told you that nothing about us ever changed for me. You were and will always be, My Spencer, I just wish I could tell you one more time how much I lov—“

“FBI, Drop your weapon!”

A clattering sound of something dropping rings directly next to your ear and the weight that was on you alleviates at the same time. You groan out and instinctively curl up on yourself, the pain spreading throughout your body. The sensory overload is so much you don’t hear the approaching figure crouching next to you.

“Hey Hey Hey,” Spencer stutters, quickly making work of the ties on your hands and holding you gently as he lays your head on his lap cradling you close, trying to hide the forming tears when he hears your whimpers of pain, “You’re okay, it’s okay. The medic’s coming.” He looks back to where the unsub was and watches Derek put him in cuffs, nodding at Spencer before walking out with Jason.

“…Spencer?” you whisper out weakly. You think you’re dreaming honestly, that in the wake of death you learn heaven isn’t a place but only his arms.

“Yeah, honey, it’s me.” he chokes out looking back down at your bruised face. He’s unsure how you still look angelic even when you’re hurt, but it doesn’t surprise him that you do. You were always good at defying the laws of nature, he prayed it extended to your immortality.

“It hurts.” you pout pathetically.

He brushes a strand of hair out of your eyes gently, “I know it does, honey I know. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry this happened. I should’ve been there. I’m sorry, baby.” he whispers tearfully.

You cough out and whimper in pain, “I’m sorry too.”

Spencer shakes his head vehemently, “No, don’t apologize. Don’t do that, just keep your eyes open for me, okay? I’m right here, I won’t leave you.”

The tiredness soon wins and your eyes flutter close. Before Spencer can even panic and beg you to open them again the medic finally comes and asks him—pulls him— to move so they can start working on you.

He reluctantly backs up and watches on with glossed over eyes, barely registering all the things they were sticking in you to wake you up. The medics stabilize your neck with a C-SPINE and lift you onto the gurney, wheeling you back to the ambulance. The same medic who asked Spencer to move comes up to him again, “We’re taking her to Georgetown Medical, you’re allowed to ride in the back with us if you want.”

You slowly come to again on the gurney and Spencer meets your open eyes before you even realize they’re on you. Without hesitation he says, “Yeah, I’m coming.”

The medic team lifts your gurney inside the rig, and right before Spencer gets in he feels a hand on his shoulder. He turns around to find Hotch, “You’ll be okay?”

It’s a loaded question. He’s not asking if Spencer is okay at this moment, because it doesn’t take a profiler to see that he’s the farthest from it. He says it as a grounding reminder knowing how Spencer gets about you. It didn’t matter to the team if you both fell out, the pair of you never faltered in your subconscious for each other. Both of your actions always moved faster than your brains, especially when it involved the other.

That’s what worried his Unit Chief.

He nods and Hotch gives his shoulder a light squeeze, “Keep us updated,” the concern clearly etched in his eyes breaking through his usual stoicism as he looks inside the rig, “We’ll meet you there as soon as we can.”

Under the bright lights of the ambulance he’s—unfortunately—able to really take inventory of the injuries you sustained. The blue and black bruising scattered your limbs, the congregation of it on your stomach telling him you have at least two broken ribs. His eyes trail further down your body before abruptly stopping, but not on an appendage.

Spencer’s face pales even further than it already has staring at the glint on the undone button of your trousers shining in the reflection of the light.

If they didn’t get there when they did…If he got to you a second later…He can’t even fathom to think about what would’ve happened.

He’s broken out of his spiral by the EMT sitting next to him offering a tissue, which is when Spencer feels the tear and snot streaks rolling down his face. He takes it and wipes his face mindlessly before muttering, “Can I just…” hands reaching out to you before his words come out. Spencer doesn’t notice the EMT tearing up as he gently buttons your pants.

——

You were a fighter.

At least, that’s what the doctors told Spencer when they came and updated him in the waiting room. He blanks out for most of the conversation, eyes unfocusing and ears on low lest your name be spoken.

“She’s stable and awake now, the nurse can take you back to see her.”

He shakes his head to recenter and mutters a thank you before following the nurse through the double white doors. His senses are heightened as he walks closer to your room. The scuff of his shoes on the linoleum floors, the pedantic beeping of machines in the rooms he passes, until he hears the only voice that’s ever been enough to calm the warzone in his mind.

“Hi, Spence.”

His feet move on their own accord right next to your bedside, hands hovering awkwardly at his side. He’s silent for the first couple minutes, just a faint sniffle here and there before he takes a seat near your bed and hears you speak again.

“You can touch me, Spence. I won’t break more than I already am.”

“Don’t say that,” he chides quickly, “It’s not a joke.”

“Well, someone should be the comedic relief here.”

He lays the tips of his fingers right on top of the tips of yours, “You could have died.”

Your face softens, “I didn’t though.”

“You could have.”

“Spencer—“

“Stop down playing it. You don’t know what it was like finding you like that.”

“I mean I have some idea, ‘cause like, I was there.”

Spencer deadpans at your poor attempt at lightening the mood, a faint smile peaking through while he shakes his head, “Insufferable even at your deathbed.”

“Yeah, the Grim Reaper heard me yapping and said ‘keep her’.”

He chuckles softly as his hand moves further up to rest the front of his palm on the back of your hand, “How are you feeling?”

“I’ve…been better. The doctor said one of my broken ribs punctured an artery, a big one apparently,” you flip your hand over so both of your palms are touching but not laced, you softly continue, “Told me I was lucky I came in when I did. Any later the internal bleeding would’ve spread to my lungs.”

Spencer feels the tears springing again and a lump forming in his throat, “I’m so sorry, sweet girl,” the pet name slipping out before he could realize, “I should’ve gotten there sooner, or realized something was wrong at the gas station.”

“Hey. Don’t do that. You saved my life.” your fingers intertwine with his and squeeze with whatever strength you can muster, which isn’t a lot and it makes his heart clench tighter. “I’m here.”

He lets out the breath he’s been holding since he walked in, “You’re here.”

“I didn’t forget what you promised me when we…broke up,” God you wish it didn’t sound so terminable as it did, “I knew you’d find me. You always do.”

Another sniffle leaves him as he rubs his thumb soothingly on your hand, “I always do…Look, there’s something I need to tell you—“

He doesn’t get to finish his sentence as Penelope & Company burst into your room bearing balloons, chocolates, and many, many stuffies.

“How’s our girl doing?” Penelope huffs, hauling an entire Hallmark catalog worth of gifts in tow.

“She’s doing fine, Penny.” you chuckle lightly, trying your best to hide the wince of pain from your side, “You did not need to do all this.”

“Nonsense, everyone knows bear stuffies are the real medicine of the world.” she gleefully ignores the nurse onlookers, “I also brought you this, of special request by someone who shall not be named.” From her back she produces a bag of your favorite candy—sour gummy worms. A fact that you knew only one person was privy to.

You act surprised nonetheless, “My favorite! Thank you, Penny. And all of you, for coming to see my crippled self.”

Spencer watches the team take turns doting on you. Emily, JJ, and Penelope sit with you for about four Gilmore Girls episodes—another lost relic of modern medicine, according to Penny—after which Morgan, Rossi, and Hotch keep you company for a little bit before bidding you good night with forehead kisses and well wishes. Spencer stays with you the whole time, never once leaving your side.

You are so loved, he thinks. He didn’t realize how much he liked watching you be loved. It makes him miss the times when he could do that for you too.

——

Weeks pass since the day of your kidnapping. You still find it weird to call it that, even though it’s literally what happened. You’ve been on house arrest—bed rest—begrudgingly, and while Penelope’s very glittery visiting schedule has kept you entertained, it’s been hard when the only person you really wanted to see has refused to come visit since you left the hospital.

You’ve asked Penelope why Spencer hasn’t come, and all she can offer you is a sad smile and a ‘He said something come up sweetie, sorry.’. Texting him seemed even more daunting, more because you weren’t about to beg for his attention if he obviously doesn’t want you to have it.

The doorbell steals your attention and you glance over at the schedule before you walk over to open it, not expecting a visitor at this time.

Spencer looks up from his shoes hearing the door open, “Hey.”

A minute passes, “Why are you here?” you ask bluntly.

He looks confused, “I came to check on you, brought you takeout from the Indian place you like.” The food in his hand smells heavenly but you can’t seem to enjoy it yet without getting an answer.

“Why are you here, now?” you ask again with an addendum.

He either really wants to piss you off or his ear blew out on the way over but he chooses to ignore you and enter your apartment, “You having nightmares again?”

“What? No…” you lie poorly, straightening up your back, “Just tired.”

He chuckles, “Good to know you’re still a terrible liar. Did you know you wear Doctor Who shirts when you’re feeling anxious?”

Your brows fuddle in confusion but he elaborates, “It’s probably subconscious, something you find comforting and naturally gravitate to in times of distress. It’s a normal stress response but…you’re wearing an Eleventh Doctor shirt.” My Eleventh Doctor shirt, he thinks.

“That doesn’t mean anything.” you feign.

“Maybe it doesn’t,” he nods, “But you are anxious aren’t you?”

“Spencer, what the fuck is going on, why are you here, really?” your eyes narrow, arms crossing defensively.

“I told you, I came to check on you.”

“You just woke up this morning and decided it was convenient for you to see me today?” Spencer opens his mouth to speak but nothing comes out. You stare at him with tearful eyes and the emotion spills out of you before you can stop it. You speak again after a few moments, voice barely above a whisper, “You left me. Again.”

He tilts his head, “No, I didn’t.”

“Yes, you did.” you grit out, “You were rooted at my bedside the entire time I was hospitalized, and the second I was discharged you were nowhere to be found. I thought, maybe with Penny’s schedule you’d come by, but then I came to find out that you didn’t even put your name down.”

“You almost died!” he retorts, “You almost died, because I made a mistake and you got hurt because of it!”

“So, that gives you the right to abandon me for the second time?”

“I didn’t…” he sighs out roughly, “I didn’t abandon you. I just, couldn’t…face you.” Face you, in pain, as a result of his actions.

“Is that what happened the first time you left?” you bite back.

His eyes steel over, “That was different.”

“I don’t see how.”

“You know why I left.”

“I don’t think I do, Spencer—”

“I left because I was putting you in danger!” he yells cutting you off, “I left because loving you meant dragging you into all the messed up stuff that happens to me, stuff that’ll keep happening to me.”

Tobias. Mexico. Cat.

A single tear rolls down your face, “That’s bullshit, I’m sorry. We work the same damn job, the risks are the same if we’re together or not.”

“You don’t understand—“

“Then fucking enlighten me, Spencer.”

He stares at you, fighting an internal battle of whether he was really willing to admit his truth to you, one that he knows you deserved to know but wasn’t sure if it would put you more in harm's way.

“Cat had details about your family.”

That’s not what you were expecting to hear. Your face drops, “Wh—What?”

His eyes dart around the room nervously, “After I got out of Millburn and we went to see Cat, she was trying all these tactics to get me to break. I was doing fine, until she started talking about you. She was saying things that only you told me, stuff that’s not even on record.”

You remember that day. You were supposed to go with him and JJ to the correctional facility but ended up stuck at the BAU because your skill set was more valuable in helping Penelope locate Mr. Scratch. You remember how he came back to you that day, distant and glassed over. It was easy to chalk up his behavior following it to his recent release, but when you woke up a few weeks later to an empty bed and a throwaway note saying ‘I’m sorry.”, you couldn’t figure out for the life of you why all of a sudden you didn’t exist to him, like you didn’t matter.

“I made a choice, one that I knew would protect you.”

“That’s not a decision for you to make.” you snap.

“I had to,” he says lowly, taking a step closer to you, “If being with me puts your safety at risk…” another step, “I’d rather live in a world where you hate me and are still here…” one more step, “Than one where you loved me and died because of it.” he manages to choke out, taking one final step towards you.

It’s quiet for a couple minutes, save for the soft whistle of the breeze coming from your open window. The resolve in you has long faded, leaving behind nothing but the skin on your bones to weather the damage. It makes sense to you why he did what he did, and you don’t know if the roles were reversed would you do the same thing. But you knew that you loved him and he loved you, and that alone should have been enough.

You can’t help but let out a whine, sounding like a petulant child, “That’s not fair, Spence.”

“What’s not fair, baby?” he softly whispers.

Your whine turns into a cry, “That, all of this. The fall on your sword act in which you decide what’s best for me is to leave me stranded, thinking I did something wrong that made you stop loving me.”

He steps forward a little more, his face mere inches from your own, “You think I stopped loving you?”

“Was I supposed to think otherwise? You couldn’t even stand being in the same room as me.”

His hands raise to gently cup your face, thumbs positioned under your eyes to wipe the fallen tears. He’s missed looking into your eyes as close as he is. For a man who doesn’t believe in religion he’s pretty certain the gates of heaven lie within your irises.

“I was selfish,” he swallows, “I wanted to keep you safe but I did so in a way that I felt was most logical, which turned out to be so fucking wrong regardless since you still got hurt.”

He brings your face impossibly closer, the warmth of his breath gently hitting your face.

“There isn’t a waking moment where I don’t love you. Even when we weren’t together, I still looked out for you and I made sure you were safe in ways I couldn’t tell you. I meant what I said. I told you I’d find you in every lifetime. I love you, in every lifetime, angel girl.”

The ache in your heart only grows with his words, reminding you that he always was and will forever be, Your Spencer.

“You can’t do that again,” you stutter out through tiny sobs, “You need to tell me what’s going on, whatever it is. We figure it out together.”

He nods softly, the hair on his forehead faintly brushing up on yours, “We figure it out together. I’m so sorry for everything, baby.” his lips press a long kiss to your forehead, “I’m here now, I’m not going anywhere.”

You rise on your toes to meet your lips with his, the missed time and unspoken words flowing silently between you both. His hands wrap gently around your waist and pull you flush to his chest, with yours entangling with the brown curls you had missed so much.

Finally back in his arms, you sigh with exhaustion and relief, “You’re here.”

“I’m here, honey.”

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid hurt/comfort #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid x fanfiction #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid criminal minds

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arminsumi · 1 year ago

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PRIEST GETO

GETO すぐる + fem!reader

Warnings : 🔞 minors do not read/interact : contains 18+ content, smut/erotica, religious themes, sacrilegious themes, solo m*sturbation, unprotected sex, creampies, virgin!Geto, not proofread

Priest!Geto has just one conversation with you, and immediately thinks to himself, "You're gonna be the reason I go to hell."

Priest!Geto's narrow eyes catch on your curves and he feels something click in his brain, then he quickly looks away as if singed by his sinful desires.

Priest!Geto is so taken aback when you outright tell him that you're sexually attracted to him. "Oh... well... I'm sorry I can't reciprocate the feeling... you know why." he tries to sound indifferent, but there's a heat rising up his neck.

Priest!Geto has to hook a finger on his clerical collar to tug at it when he sees you sitting in the pews. Your presence is so strong to him.

Priest!Geto is violently shaken up when you accidentally touch him. You once sat next to him, pressing your thigh to his more muscular thigh, and he could barely think, his brain malfunctioned like he was simply a 19 yr old college boy in need of pussy. You're so soft, you're so soft, you're so fucking soft and perfect he hates it with his soul. He just wants to know what it feels like to sink his pure fingers into the flesh of a creature as sinful as you.

Priest!Geto tries so hard not to think unholy thoughts of you, he clutches his rosary tight in his veiny hands and kneels at his bed every night, praying... but then you enter his mind like a beautiful little parasite and then he feels his cock sitting upright; stiff and leaky and begging for something soft to lay inside. He tells himself "Just once can't hurt..." and jerks himself nervously to the idea of you taking his cock in your sinning hands... sinning mouth... slutty sinning pussy... aw, he cums so hard he shakes and can't catch his breath. His cum is so thick, spurting out his curved cock, decorating his lower abdomen and trail of hair down there.

Priest!Geto inhales sharply when you stand too close next to him, like the proximity offends his whole body; his hands are folded neatly over his crotch as he tries to conceal the outline of his cock as it starts pronouncing itself through his pants.

Priest!Geto loathes the days you don't visit the church or come to enjoy lunch with your friend. He sits there, bored by dull conversations that he shouldn't be bored by, and pokes at his meal... the only thing that's appetizing to him is you, your company, your disrespectful flirting, your unexpected little remarks.

Priest!Geto to you is a steadfast believer, calm and unaffected by your provocations. But you see cracks in his demeanor; how he shifts uncomfortably when you talk to him in that soft voice, how he has to clear his throat before responding, how he zones out after you say something suggestive as if he's contemplating pouncing on you and sticking his tongue in your mouth.

Priest!Geto goes straight into denial about aching for your lips around his cock, even though he's having wet dreams about it. Some mornings he wakes from a dream of you sucking on his thick cock, and he looks up at the ceiling and groans... because he came against his thigh in his sleep... a gooey sticky sinful mess.

Priest!Geto is convinced that God sent you to him to test his discipline... and he knows he's fucked. He hates tying his hands behind his back. Do you know how badly those hands want to nest in your hair and pull on it while he stuffs you up?

Priest!Geto slowly feels his discipline weakening the more he's exposed to you and your charms.

Priest!Geto freezes up when you kiss him one day when you're alone together. "We can't do that..." he's breathlessly talking, hands grabbing your arms to pry you off of him... oh god how is he breathless over one kiss? His hands start shaking when you kiss him again. "F-fuck... we really can't do this..." he's moaning in no time, even whimpering and closing his eyes, letting himself get engulfed in dirty pleasure while you explore his body with your lips.

Priest!Geto whimpers from oversensitivity when he sinks his fat cock into you, telling himself that losing his virginity to a slut like you is forgivable... oh and his animalistic thrusts? Those are forgivable too. And the way he looks at you, like he's consumed by lust? That's also forgivable.

Priest!Geto crawls back to you for more after that, but at the same time pushes you away. He's a conflicted man. But when he's balls deep draining himself in your pussy, calling you a "bad girl" and a "sinner", he's a simple man.

Priest!Geto moans "sin for me, darling..." while cumming so deep inside that not a single drop of his sticky seed drips out. He leaves your pussy a sloppy, gushing mess.

Priest!Geto feels a rush, a dizzying and lustful rush, when you look at him during mass now; your little wink and lick of your lips makes him stutter throughout the passage he's reciting.

I do not permit the copying/reposting/translation/plagiarism of my works. Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.

This is fictional work.

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distantdarlings · 1 year ago

Text

TRY THAT AGAIN // t. nott

RATING: R / 3.7K WORDS

Theodore Nott x Fem Reader Insert

+ SUMMARY - *Requested, based on this* Pansy finds out that a group of Gryffindor girls has had a lot to say about you and your relationship with Theodore Nott. They think you won’t do anything about it, but you prove them wrong.

+ WARNINGS - Fighting, depictions of a fight, punching someone in the face, bloody nose, wound descriptions - very brief, language, gossiping, fem reader, not proofread (lmk if I missed any)

+ MUSIC (listened to while writing) -

IDGAF - Yeat

(Sorry I used Lavender as the 'mean girl,' she's just who I chose! I'm sorry if you like her :'))

---

The Great Hall echoed with hundreds of voices, each one rattling the glasses on the table. You caught yourself zoning out, staring in the general direction of the Gryffindor table. You blinked and shook your head slightly, knocking yourself out of your miniature daze.

As you came back to yourself, you noticed a group of Gryffindor girls with judgemental expressions printed on their faces. You realized they seemed to be looking right at you. You glanced around, trying to see if there was anyone else around you who might be warranting such a reaction from them. There was no one.

You waved gently—your eyebrows furrowed confusedly together. Once you did so, one of the girls sitting the closest to you rolled her eyes and turned back to her group of friends. Her long dark hair caught the reflection of the sun and flashed as she turned. You were taken aback at her behavior. There was always the possibility that she and her friends hadn’t been looking at you, but it seemed unlikely.

A sigh left you as you turned back to your group of friends

“Did any of you guys see that?” you asked. Pansy, Enzo, Mattheo, and your boyfriend, Theo, stopped their chatter and looked over at you.

“See what, baby?” Theo asked.

“Those girls over there at Gryffindor—they just glared at me like crazy,” you said.

“Those girls at the edge of the table?” Pansy asked, pointing.

“Yes, do you know them?”

“Not really, but they’re just plain drama,” she explained. “Getting involved with them practically ensures you’ll be dragged into something by the end of the week.”

“Why do you think they were looking at me?” you asked.

“I have no idea,” Theo interjected. “But if they’re “drama,” they’re likely going to try and involve anyone, no matter if they’re as sweet as you.” He flashed you a charming smile. You rolled your eyes in response, giggling a bit with Pansy.

“Do you have any plans for after dinner?” Enzo piped up, leaning into the table a bit.

“Not really,” you said. “I think Pansy and I are gonna have a bit of a girl’s night, though!”

She smiled widely and agreed. The two of you tried to get together and chat and paint each other’s nails every once in a while—just to keep each other up to date. She was your best friend after all—well, one of them.

“Yeah, and none of you are invited. It’s girl’s time only.”

The three boys sitting in front of the two of you rolled their eyes simultaneously. You both laughed in response.

When your group of friends had completed your meals, you all agreed to head your separate ways with you and Pansy headed back to your dormitory and the boys headed to Hogsmeade for a Butterbeer.

The two of you made your way out of the Great Hall and began to head down to the Slytherin common room.

Pansy pushed her short hair behind her ears as she turned to you. “Actually, I think I did see those girls staring at you earlier.”

“You did?” you asked. She nodded and began to fidget with the straps of her backpack.

“Yeah, when they came in. I’ve kind of been keeping an eye on them.”

“What do you mean?”

“I, erm…” she trails off, turning her head towards the floor.

“What? What is it?” you asked, coming to a stop in the middle of the empty hallway. She paused as well, staring at you with a bit of concern in her eyes, almost like a kid caught with their hand in the cookie jar. “Pansy Parkinson, you tell me what—”

“Alright!” she exclaimed. She blew air through her lips, sending a few strands of her bangs flying into the air. “So, the one girl in Gryffindor…that’s Lavender Brown…”

“Okay…” you asked, pressing her on.

“Lavender Brown has an enormous crush on Theo,” she said, pressing her lips together awkwardly.

“Theo who? My Theo?” you asked. She paused for a moment and then gave a brief nod. You considered laughing. Why on earth would you be threatened by some random Gryffindor girl who had a crush on your boyfriend? Number one, of course, they did. He was Theodore freaking Nott. Number two, he was your boyfriend. He was taken, and he was loyal. You weren’t concerned with the possibility of Theo cheating on you at all. He was a spooky Slytherin boy from an old money family. And if there was one thing that spooky Slytherin boys from old money families valued more than being the best, it was loyalty. Theo would not cheat.

“Ha, I get her,” you snorted. “I have a crush on him, too.” Pansy stared at you blankly. She said nothing for a moment, then smiled nervously. You could tell something was very off.

“Look, all I’m saying is Lavender Brown has a bit of a track record around Hogwarts,” she shrugged. Your eyebrow quirked. “A track record of…home-wrecking, if you will.”

“Please, I’m not going to let some desperate Gryffindor bitch take my man from me,” you said, rolling your eyes. “How pathetic.”

The two of you began walking again, headed down to the dungeons.

If Lavender Brown thought she could give you the slip, she had another thing coming. You didn’t care what people thought of you or how they viewed you as “Theo’s girlfriend.” But one thing was for certain, you weren’t about to get fucking played.

The two of you rounded the corner and jogged down the steps. The Slytherin common room entrance stood before you, awaiting the password. Pansy and you tittered on about the little quirks of Lavender and her friends. However mean that was, you didn’t care. If she could glare at you and act like you knew her at all for absolutely no reason, you could talk shit about her with your best friend. It was girl code. Basically.

Pansy spoke the password, and the two of you walked through the entrance, arms looped in each other’s. If there were one person in the whole world you’d share your entire life story (secrets included) with, it’d be Pansy. She knew you better than anyone—except maybe Theo.

Pansy slid her robe off of her shoulders and set it on the back of the lush green sofa set before the fireplace. It was already lit and crackling comfortably as you took your seat next to her. You loosened your tie and set your feet up on the small table before you.

“So, out of curiosity, when you say ‘homewrecker,’ what exactly do you mean?” you asked, crossing your arms.

“Well, do you remember Alaina and Joseph from fourth year?”

“Yeah, they were together forever.”

“Exactly,” Pansy said. “Until Lavender got involved.”

“What do you mean?”

“What I heard was Lavender developed a crush on Joseph and started flirting with him,” she started. “Well, on the realization that he couldn’t be worked away from Alaina, Lavender decided to take matters into her own hands. She started spreading a rumor about Alaina.”

“You don’t mean the Alaina cheating thing was spread by Lavender?” you gasped, pressing a hand over your mouth.

“Yes, I do mean that. Because she’s the one that started it.”

“I always had a bad feeling about that,” you sighed. “Alaina definitely didn’t seem like the type to cheat.”

“Yeah, but Joseph still broke up with her. He definitely believed the rumors. But when Lavender went to pursue him, he wasn’t interested in a relationship.”

When Pansy was done with her story, she sighed and glanced over at you. Your lips were slightly parted in shock as everything came to a climax. You couldn’t believe that someone would actually do that to a person over some dumb crush. When it was obvious that Joseph didn’t reciprocate Lavender’s feelings, why didn’t she just back down? But most importantly, would she try to do that to you and Theo?

“Ah shit, do you think she’s going to try and do that to me?” you ask, nervously nibbling on your bottom lip. Pansy shrugged. That was all the answers you needed.

“Fucking bitch!” you shouted, abruptly getting to your feet. “I can’t believe she would try that with me. How fucking embarrassing. Nobody’s interested in you, so you waltz around, screwing up other people’s relationships for a few minutes’ attention from a boy. Ew. She’s disgusting.”

“Yeah, I know,” Pansy agreed. “And nobody ever does anything. Alaina got kicked out of her own relationship. I don’t want to see that happen to my best friend.”

“Aw, Pans,” you sighed, smiling a bit. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” she said, returning your smile. She opened her arms wide, and you fell comfortably into them, wrapping yours tightly around her waist.

“I still can’t believe her,” you said. “That’s like a bad movie plot. She’s actually pathetic.”

“I know!”

The two of you continued to chat until the sun outside had set far below the horizon. Students had walked past the two of you, back and forth, for the majority of the evening. But when the traffic had finally stopped, the two of you realized that it was probably getting really late.

With a few stretches and yawns, the two of you followed the other up the stairs to the girls’ dormitories and slipped into your beds. After the evening you’d had so far and the shit you’d talked, you were exhausted and ready for bed.

You collapsed against your pillow and crossed your hands over your stomach. The green canopy over your head shimmered beneath the moonlight.

Despite how tired you were, you kept going back to what Pansy had said. That Lavender had lied and spread rumors about Alaina, that she’d ruined her relationship and might try to do it to yours. The thought of Theo thinking you had cheated on him and hooking up with Lavender later made you sick. You had to roll over to avoid the thought. Surely, he’d know better, right? You weren’t sure. How would you react if someone had told you that Theo had cheated on you? You groaned and pressed one of your pillows over your face.

Everything within you was saying to quiet the nerves in your head as quickly as you could and to fall asleep. These sorts of thoughts were doing nothing but making you panic. Imagining Theo with another girl made you panic. You couldn’t stand the thought of it. Especially if it was Lavender Brown—certified homewrecker. You didn’t think you’d make it.

As the thoughts of anxiety and jealousy swirled through your head, you found yourself drifting further and further off. The light of the moon was becoming dimmer by the second as you lay there. It wouldn’t be much longer until you were out like a light. You figured it was going to be a rather peaceful sleep despite your current worries.

Your eyes shut, and you were asleep.

x x x

The next morning, your eyes opened just before your alarm. Besides the fact that that never happened, you had a strange feeling in your gut, like something was different today. You didn’t know what exactly, but it made you nervous. You made a mental note to ask Theo if everything was okay as soon as you got downstairs for breakfast.

You tossed a robe around your pajamas, not bothering to switch into your school uniform yet. There was still around an hour before classes started, and you figured you’d have plenty of time to change. In fact, you thought, you might just run down and grab a quick nibble of something to eat. You’d talk to Theo as soon as you could.

The stone floors were cold as you slid your feet into a pair of woolen socks, then a pair of personal boots. As small as your dorm room was, you’d imagine that the firepit in the center of the room would do more for the temperature. But, you always found yourself freezing in the mornings as you were preparing for first period. Maybe it was just you—

“Good morning, friend,” Pansy said lowly, her voice still raspy from sleep. She jogged over to you from her bed on the opposite side of the room.

“Good morning,” you returned. “Wanna grab some breakfast?”

“Sounds good to me,” she yawned, looping her arm through yours. You found that she was always the one who initiated that small show of affection, but it felt good. The fact that you had a female friend who genuinely cared for you made your heart light up. With all of the worry over those girls last night, it made you realize how truly grateful you were a friend not involved in drama. At the thought, you flashed her a smile, to which she returned with a goofy expression.

The two of you giggled a bit as you turned the corner and climbed the main staircase, headed directly for the Great Hall. You could practically smell all of the food from here. On second thought, maybe you would stay for a full meal. If there was one thing you truly loved about Hogwarts—besides the obvious—it was the food.

As the two of you made the final walk down the grand hall, you noticed something. Perhaps it was all in your head or had something to do with the odd feeling you had when you woke up, but you felt like everyone was staring at you. It felt like every face you glanced at already had eyes directed at you. You broke the contact awkwardly each time, trying to ignore the strange attention. Whatever was going on, you really were not a fan.

“Pansy, is everyone staring at us?” you whispered, nudging her side with your elbow. She glanced around.

“It kind of seems like it, doesn’t it?” she said. “Hold on.”

She pulled away from you suddenly, leaving you to stop in the middle of the hallway. She approached a small group of girls gathered in the corner just before the Great Hall. You watched from where you were standing, trying to overhear what she was saying. She tapped one of the girls’ shoulders and began conversing with them.

You thought you recognized a few of them—some Slytherin girls from your Potions class.

After a few moments of you loitering awkwardly in the middle of the hallway, Pansy finally jogged back over. Her face was flushed, and her eyebrows were drawn tightly together. She looked as if she was deep in thought.

“Pans, what is it?” you asked, grabbing her arm.

“That bitch from yesterday…” she trailed off. Lavender Brown?

“What about her?” you asked.

“It seems like she has a bit of an issue keeping her mouth shut.” She pointed toward the wide-open doors to the Great Hall. You glanced over at the huge room. Your stomach sank a bit at the feeling of being involved in drama. Sure, you and Pansy chatted about drama around the school all the time, but you didn’t want to be involved in it. Was that bad? You didn’t know. A sigh left you.

You clenched your fists, feeling pops ripple through the knuckles. You were going to handle whatever was going on right now. There were thousands of things way more important than some stupid girl trying to disrupt your life. And, the worst of it was, she hardly knew you. What was her fucking problem? The thoughts ramped up your anger, but you pushed it down. You were just going to talk to her.

You walked through the doors of the Great Hall and quickly surveyed the room. Still, it felt as though everyone was staring at you. You tried to ignore it as you spotted Lavender and her group of friends. They stood around the Gryffindor table, with her sitting on the edge of it with one leg crossed over the other. She appeared to be telling them each something, but how she sat up straight and glanced around so often gave you a bad feeling. You swallowed thickly and calmly walked over to her.

As you came within a few feet of her, her friends began to notice and alerted her to your presence. Her eyes found yours, and she immediately shut up.

“Hey, Lavender,” you said politely, forcing a smile. Each of her friends gave you a different type of glare.

“Hey,” she said bluntly. Her expression was very hesitant.

“Can I talk to you?” you asked. She said nothing. “Alone?”

“Anything you need to say to me, you can say around my girls,” she said, a bit of an attitude shining through. She pursed her lips.

“Okay, well, what I have to say is for you, not your ‘girls,’” you mocked. Her eyebrow quirked. With every word that left your mouth, her friends reacted in some way. It seemed they were only egging her on.

“I think I’ll stay right here,” she said. You refrained from rolling your eyes.

“Alright, well, have it your way. I’ve just heard a bit of a rumor flying around. A few people have told me that you’re saying some…rude things about me, and I wanted to ask why. I mean, I don’t even know you.” You chuckled slightly. A few of her friends rolled their eyes.

“I’m not concerned about that,” she said. “I’m concerned about something else.”

“Then why are you saying things about me?” you asked. She sighed and got to her feet, closing the distance between the two of you a bit. You took a small step back. The last thing you wanted was for her to be right in your face. Her friends gathered behind her a bit.

“Um, because I can do what I want,” she said, crossing her arms. “Free country, right?”

“Sure…but I really would like you to stop,” you explained. “It’s upsetting me and my friends.”

“I don’t really give a fuck,” she said. Her friends laughed a bit at your shocked expression. You were struggling to wrap your head around why she would have a reason to talk about you if you’d never even had a conversation with the girl.

“Last time I’m going to ask, or I’m going to the Headmaster’s, Lavender,” you threatened.

“Do what you want—I’m not fucking scared of you,” she challenged, crossing her arms. “It’s not like you’re actually going to do anything.” Your fists clenched.

“Lavender, I’m asking you nicely. Stop talking about me, or I’ll make it a problem.”

“Ooh,” she teased, her friends tittering along. “What are you going to do? Are you going to run to the Headmaster’s just like you always do? ‘Oh, Professor Dumbledore, please help! There are students who are being mean to me—”

“Shut up, Lavender,” Pansy said, appearing behind you. “You’re fucking pathetic.”

A shock of pride flew through your chest at the bit of backup Pansy provided. You were feeling a bit outnumbered with Lavender’s posse.

“Was I talking to you, bitch?”

“Hey! Don’t fucking call her that!” you said, your voice raising a bit.

“Aw, I don’t think I’ve ever even heard you say a bad word,” Lavender mocked you. “You know, considering you are such an insufferable loser. Theo must be so fucking embarrassed of you.”

“What the hell did you just say?”

“I said, your boyfriend—” she took another step closer to you; you were practically chest to chest—“is embarrassed of you, little girl. Maybe he should try a woman on for size.” She laid a rough poke to your chest. Your arms rippled at the feeling.

“Don’t fucking touch me.”

“What, like this?” she poked you again, her false nails digging into your flesh. Before she could drop her hand away from you again, you’d turned and swung a violent punch at her.

Her friends screamed loudly as she crumpled to the ground, her hands pressed to her face. She shrieked at the top of her lungs, quieting everyone in the Great Hall. Per usual student behavior, groups of the Hall’s occupants raced over to try and get a glimpse at you beating the shit out of Lavender Brown.

Her friends fell away from her quickly as you dropped down on top of her, thighs straddling her chest, and wailed on her. So much for them standing by her. Punch after punch landed on her dumb fucking face. You were at the point now where the pain in your fists was hardly detectable anymore.

Jeers of encouragement erupted around you as fellow students circled the two of you—Pansy had been pushed back in the midst of the commotion. As you glanced around for your friend, the girl below you managed to shove her fist upward and land a lucky strike right to your nose. Your head snapped back at the motion, your hands coming up to cover the blood that spurted from each nostril.

You tasted metal and sweat as you leaned back down and continued your assault on her face.

“Not so confident now, huh, bitch?” you shouted in her face, laying a swift slap across her cheek.

Suddenly, you felt rough hands beneath your armpits as you were yanked backward. Despite the resistance, you fought against the unknown person, trying to get back at Lavender.

“Yeah, you fucking cunt, you wanna fuck with me?” you yelled, thrashing against the person behind you. “Wanna try it again? How about any of your fucking friends?”

“Hey, stop, stop!” Theo grabbed your wailing fists, forcing you to look directly into his eyes. He yanked you away from the crowd just as a few professors began to arrive. Enzo and Mattheo were hung back along the Ravenclaw table, waiting for their friend. Amused expressions were pulled across their faces.

“Merlin!” Enzo shouted, a smile printed on his lips. “That was bloody brilliant.” You refrained from laughing.

“Fuck, baby, I must be rubbing off on you,” Theo chucked. “You’re fighting just like your boyfriend.” A swell of pride flowed through you. He selected one of the fabric napkins from the table behind him and began pressing it beneath your nose.

“Whatever,” you said, hiding a smile. “I’m just tired of people walking all over me because they think I won’t do anything about it. And I didn’t touch that bitch until she mentioned you and touched me.”

“You don’t have to defend yourself to me,” Theo laughed. “But I don’t think you have to worry about anyone messing with you anymore.”

The three boys before you smirked darkly at his words.

*Tag List: @mypolicemanharryyy, @angelfrombeneth, @clairesjointshurt, @bunbunbl0gs, @acornacreacure, @niktwazny303, @thestarlithideout, @sarahskakskskskajakwwnwjw, @yhiiil, @ravenclawprincess33, @xxrougefangxx (if you would like to be added to the tag list for any future works, please comment on this post, dm me, or send me a message in my inbox. Thanks!)*

#fanfiction #creative writing #fanfic #writing #reader insert #harry potter #oneshot #harry potter fanfiction #slytherin #harry potter smut #theodore nott x reader #theo nott #theodore nott smut #pansy parkinson #fem reader #request #lorenzo berkshire #enzo berkshire #mattheo riddle

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seventeenpins · 10 months ago

Text

a slight miscalculation - pt. i

pairing: Joel x F!Reader

word count: 8.3k

summary: Sarah is off to college, and Joel is about to be living in an empty nest. They road trip out together, and as she spends her first night in her new apartment, he's staying in a nearby hotel. Letting go of his inhibitions for the first time in a long time, he tumbles into a one night stand that becomes very complicated, very quickly.

content/warnings: smut, age gap, mycologist!reader, dick sucking, implied pussy eating, fingering, no outbreak au, reader likes to hike, reader also infodumps, joel miller has a big cock, he also has anxiety, reader has anxiety too, and a cat, reader is in early 20s--exact age not established, one (1) use of daddy, alcohol and weed consumption, joel is a diligent condom wearer, set in present day, discussion of girl scout cookies, joel is sweet and soft and hasn't been eviscerated by the death of his daughter

a/n: I'm intending this to be about five parts. This may change, but right now it's looking like five. I've been struggling to write for a while, unable to focus, but I think I'm back at it? as always, your feedback is hugely appreciated, and i'm kissing all likers and commenters and rebloggers deeply and with tongue 🩷

check out pt. ii

For the first time in nineteen years, Joel is completely adrift. Sarah's starting college in just two months.

It's the kind of realization that hits him like a bucket of ice water, a sudden shock and then an unpleasant trickling of anxiety wrapping about him in nasty tendrils. And then he feels guilty, because he's so, so happy for Sarah because he knows that she's thrilled, but fuck she's gonna be two time zones away and now what's Joel meant to do on Thursday movie nights when he's here without her?

It's terrifying, and it's new. And it's not that he's new to anxiety. He's usually anxious, and he has the Sertraline on his bedside stand to prove it. But if his general anxiety baseline usually hovered around a 6.4, where he was at now far surpassed a 10. It felt exponential, and totally exhausting.

When he voices his fears to Tommy, to Joel's horror, Tommy just doubles over in laughter.

"Jesus, Joel," he wheezes, wiping fake tears from his eyes in exaggerated movements, "You looked so serious I thought you were gonna say you'd killed someone."

Joel scowls. "The fuck you laughing for?"

"She's going to college, it's not like she's dying!"

"How'm I gonna be there for her? What if she needs me? What if-"

"Joel-," Tommy pats him gently on the shoulder, "She can always call you, and you can always call her. And we both know she's got a good head on 'er shoulders."

Joel snorts in concession. "Yeah, yeah. Better than yours and mine put together, and then some."

"Exactly." Tommy agrees, "And if there's ever anything that really goes wrong, you got me. We can drive out together and make sure she's okay."

Joel nods and feels the tiniest bit of tension leave him. One step at a time.

Just over nineteen years ago he found out he was about to be a dad. Suddenly, he had a purpose. Having a kid at twenty-two wasn't something he'd ever intended, but somehow he knew he loved his baby girl from the moment he knew she was a possibility. He spent a solid seven months running around, hustling, doing everything he could to get the very best for his kid. He'd take on doubles, working himself to the bone to make sure they had the best crib, and the best stroller, too. He was thrilled and terrified and so, so green.

Now, his heart feels so big he doesn't know how to handle it. His baby girl is an honest-to-god adult, moving out and going to college, and he has no idea what he's gonna do with his time now.

He has work, of course. But beyond that? He's really gotta to widen his circle, he realises, because who's he gonna hang out with? His brother?

He'd only just turned forty-one and had absolutely not come to terms with an empty nest--the few friends from high school he'd kept in touch with were so much further behind than him. The ones that had kids had them later in their twenties and thirties, and now they're raising middle schoolers while Joel's kid is a real fucking person, leaving home and everything. All the scrapping and saving he'd been doing since before Sarah was born–for his little girl to be able to follow any dream she chose–it was finally paying off. The precocious young woman she is, she graduated early and spent nearly a year working retail to save up some cash. She'd applied to colleges all across the country, and a few international ones, too. Joel had been crossing his fingers for months, hoping she'd choose something near Austin, but cheered with her all the same when she got her acceptance letter from Oregon State University. The previous summer, just before she'd started her applications, she and Joel and Tommy spent a miserable, wonderful week hiking round the Pacific Northwest. She fell in love with it, and the university offered a few of the majors she wanted to consider.

Joel didn't know what he'd do with his baby girl so far away, his life, his reason, but he sure as hell wasn't gonna tell her that. He will not clip her wings. His baby's gonna change the world and he's not gonna hold her back. He is, though, gonna require regular phone calls and check-ins and god they grow up so fast.

"Y'all should road trip out there," Tommy suggests one night over the dinner table.

Joel knew the conversation of how Sarah would get to the West Coast would come up, and it oughta be sooner rather than later. He was half afraid that she wanted to head out on her own, that she didn't need her dad anymore. Worried she would say she wanted to get a plane ticket, or take the Amtrak all the way to Corvallis. But he knows he needs to loosen his grip a little, so he braces himself when he turns to her.

"What'dya think, Sarah? You wanna be stuck in a car with your old man for a cross-country trip?"

Sarah rolls her eyes, but her face breaks into a grin. "Can we, Dad?"

This was too good to be true, he knew, but he wasn't gonna give up one last opportunity to spend some time with his girl till winter break.

"Course, baby," he tells her, and that flicker of anxiety quells just the tiniest bit.

The next few weeks fly by, and the knot of anxiety in Joel's chest feels like it's consuming him from the inside out. He's taken some time off, more than Sarah or Tommy can remember, but he's constantly trying to suggest ideas for activities to Sarah. For the most part, she's a good sport, understanding how much it means to her dad. She took pity on him, and let him drag her to places that ideally she would've gone to when she was little, but she humored him and he appreciated her dedication. He did his best to step back when she was heading out to spend time with friends--her time here was limited, after all, and she was always a social butterfly.

There are five weeks till classes start, four weeks, three, two, and in the blink of an eye, they're loading up the truck with all of Sarah's things, and Tommy is hugging Sarah goodbye, teary eyed. He gives Joel a hug, too. Joel would never admit it, but fuck he had really needed that hug.

They would take the scenic route. Make a memorable trip of it. Joel would make sure she settles in safe and sound, and then he'd head home.

6am Sunday.

You wake with a start. It's just over a week before term starts and your entire body aches. Fuck, you think to yourself, definitely overdid it with that last hike.

(The hiking part wasn't itself a problem, but one of the trails had washed out. You thought you'd found your way, but the "easy" three and a half mile hike took about five hours, leaving your calves bruised and your heels blistered.)

You roll over in your hotel room bed and, at the sound of a slight yelp followed by a gentle thud, realise with a sudden start that you just catapulted your cat off the corner.

"Shit, sorry goblin," you tell Spatula, who glares up at you with disdain as he licks at his paw. You reach down and, despite your inadvertent cat launch, he immediately rubs up against your fingertips and lets you scratch behind his ears.

"I'm sorry, baby," you soothe.

He meows, loudly. Howls, really. You take it as an apology accepted.

You sit up properly and look at your phone calendar. Nothing immediate. You don't need to get keys to your new apartment till tomorrow, nor do you meet your roommates till then–they're both moving in today, and moving is already horrible without having to navigate around the belongings of two other people. No, thanks. You can afford one more night at the hotel, and it'll make everything go that little bit more smoothly tomorrow. Besides, you have a bit of reading you'd like to get through, maybe stock up on non-perishables till you have a full-sized fridge, and get to know the city just a little.

You move gingerly, testing the ache in your muscles as you unfold yourself from the position you've been sat in and pull yourself from the bed. It hurts, but not something that won't be fixed with a little movement.

A plan forms. First, a walk, to try and loosen up your tight muscles. Then, errands. You have a whole list, with everything categorised by store, but then you enter IKEA and exit fifteen minutes later, only to find that five and a half hours have passed and it's evening now.

How was it that IKEA harnessed such a malicious power. How could anything harness that?

You need a fucking break. And a goddamn drink.

"Hey Dad," Sarah calls from the adjacent bedroom as Joel sweats, hauling another box towards her. The drive has been good, but it has been long. His legs ache. His back aches. There are parts of him that he didn't know existed that now ache.

"Yeah?" he calls back.

"Are you sure you're okay with me staying here tonight?"

Joel lets out a breath. He wants to be okay with it. And there's no way his nineteen year old would want to hang out with her dad when she could be spending the very first night in her brand new apartment. But he also wishes she wanted to spend one last night, hanging out in a hotel room with her dad. They could watch shitty movies together. Make the most of the final night before this cataclysmic shift.

But no.

That'd just be him being selfish. He can handle a night by himself. He's gotta handle a whole lotta them soon enough.

"O'course baby," he nods, hoping the smile he's plastered on his face looks totally genuine. "But we're still doin' breakfast in the morning, right?"

She nods, vigorous, and then waves her phone around. "I was looking up places! There's a diner called Tommy's," she laughs, "Wanna try that? 9:30?"

"Let's do it," he smiles, and this one is a little less forced.

"How much more do we have?" Sarah asks, nodding towards the box Joel's still holding.

"Last box," he grunts, "What else can I help with?"

He places the box down and lets out a slight, almost silent whimper. Sarah catches it, though.

"Maybe you should take it easy the rest of the day, Dad," she tells him, "We both know you have old man back."

He rolls his eyes but nods. "Guess you're right," he shrugs, "That my cue to take off?"

Sarah blushes but turns to him sheepishly. "Yeah, I-"

"No need to explain," Joel assures, "I know you must wanna get unpacked and settle in, get to know your roommates an' all."

She jumps up and, almost startling him, wraps her arms around him in a bear hug.

"Love you, dad," she grins, and she squeezes just a little tighter than usual.

He squeezes back, and they both pretend there aren't tears in his eyes.

As you step through the doors of the hotel bar, you decide you like it. The lighting is comfortably low. It's not loud, but it's not quiet, either. Colorful bottles line the shelves, the light of the filament bulbs glinting off the glass in rainbow prisms.

You take a seat at the bar and give a nod of thanks as the bartender passes you a small menu. It's unsurprisingly extortionate, hotel bar and all, but it'll do.

"Old fashioned, please," you tell the bartender, who nods in response. A minute later, he hands you a glass, delivered with a twist of orange and a cherry on top.

With your first sip, you feel your shoulders start to relax and some of the tension loosen from your body. The warmth of the burn envelops you and your stress starts to unravel, leaving only the buzz feeling good.

You order a second, and as the glass is handed to you, a voice to your right catches your attention.

"This seat taken?" a man asks.

You shake your head and offer a quick smile, gesturing towards it, "All yours."

"Much obliged," he nods, and slips into the backless stool next to yours.

The bartender comes over and passes him the same menu, but without looking at it he asks, "Could I get an old fashioned?"

You smile and catch his eye, tipping your glass towards him. "An excellent choice," you praise, "Though if you don't have a sweet tooth, I'd recommend asking Jeff there if he can go easy on the simple syrup."

"Oh yeah?" He asks, and then he leans in conspiratorially. "T'tell you the truth, I do have a bit of a sweet tooth."

You raise an eyebrow. "Is that so?"

Suddenly, he breaks into a grin and it's dazzling.

"Yeah," he laughs, "I've got cookies stashed in secret locations all through my house."

You raise an eyebrow. "If I keep 'em in my pantry, my brother'll find 'em and eat 'em all," he explains, "But ever since my kid was a girl scout, I always get cravings for girl scout cookies, so I buy an armful o'boxes and try and preserve 'em throughout the year, till I can replenish."

"What's your favorite girl scout cookie?"

"Caramel deLites, hands down."

"Oh yeah?"

"Absolutely," he nods.

The bartender, Jeff, sets the man's drink down with a clink. You catch one another's eye and both erupt into a fit of laughter.

You're not even sure what's funny. Maybe it's just been a long day? Maybe the whiskey was getting to you?

Whatever it is, it feels good.

The man takes a sip of his drink and lets out an aaaahh and it's goofy and charming and then he extends his hand.

"Joel," he tells you, "Joel Miller". You shake his hand, introduce yourself, and then take a sip of your own drink.

"So, tell me about yourself," you smile, "You coming from out of town?"

"Yes ma'am," he nods, "Come up here from Austin."

"Texas?"

Joel nods.

"That's a long trip."

"Yeah," he laughs, "It really is."

"So, you're a nice Southern boy, huh?"

"Well," he swishes his glass and tries to bite back a smile, "I don't know that I'd go quite so far, but my mama did raise me to be a gentleman."

"That so?" you ask and his blush deepens.

"I... have been known to get up to some trouble, but I like to think I've mellowed in my old age." He gestures at the beautiful little smatterings of silver at his temples, and you cackle.

"Okay, that's hot," you tell him and he chokes, but you keep going, "Old age, though? What are you, like, forty?"

He exhales, chagrined. "Forty-one."

You roll your eyes. "That ain't old."

"It feels it sometimes," he smiles, "My kid is grown. My little brother's married with a kid of his own on the way. My back hurts, pretty much all the time."

You snort. You also notice, without trying to look, that he doesn't have a wedding band. Doesn't have a tan line for one, either. Interesting.

"But more than that," he continues, "I guess I feel- I don't know. A little... aimless?"

"Yeah," you nod, and you let the moment sit. "I get that."

He lets out a little breath, and then turns back to you, focused.

"What about you? Where're you from?"

"Oof," you exhale, "All over. Spent a bit of time on the East coast. The Midwest. Lived a few months in the South, even," you tease as you bump your shoulder into his and he laughs. It's a surprisingly familiar gesture, but miraculously comfortable.

"Ever make it to Texas?"

"Naw," you shake your head, "My time in the South was all in Mississippi. After that I moved out to California, and I've been slowly working my way up the West Coast."

"And what have you been enjoying about the West Coast?" Joel asks.

"The mushrooms," you grin, and Joel frowns.

"Like, the kind you get in a little baggy from the dealer down the street, or-?"

"No," you laugh, "Or, well- Okay, sometimes. Gotta say it is great out here for that, too. But I mean fungus as a whole--mushrooms, mold, yeast, lichen. But I'm most interested in mushrooms. They're just really fuckin' cool, and there's so much we don't understand about them. And, they're delicious."

"Huh," Joel ponders, "T'tell you the truth, I've never thought much about mushrooms, besides enjoying 'em as a pizza topping."

"Most people don't," you agree, "But fuck, like-- Okay, so we know there are over five million types of fungi on Earth, but we've identified less than two percent of them. Some fungus aids decomposition. Some fungus is bioluminescent. Some are known worldwide for their delicious flavours, and others are known by the slow, horrible ways they kill you."

Joel raises his eyebrows, and suddenly you feel a little self conscious.

"Sorry, I do this," you laugh, rubbing at the back of your neck, "I get very excited about fungus and manage to alienate everyone around me."

You half expect him to stand up and walk away.

Instead, though, he leans in closer. "Don't apologise," he tells you, "I'm learning something new. Tell me more?"

"No, I should stop. Otherwise I'll never stop talking," you wince.

"How about just one more fungus fact?"

You sit for a minute, pondering. "This is- well, I guess this is one of the reasons I find fungus so fascinating. So, fungus can't photosynthesise the way that plants do--they can't produce their own food from sunshine, and water, and carbon dioxide. Instead, their mycelium-- they're these thread-like networks--they branch out beneath the earth, seeking out food, growing in the direction where it can find the nutrients it needs and breaking down organic material all around them, sometimes living organisms, as a parasite, and sometimes dead organisms as a decomposer, or both. And it's just- It's this hidden world, that exists right beneath the surface even in some of the extreme places on earth, temperature-wise. And most days, we don't even think about it."

You punctuate your thought with a large swallow of your drink, which is half-watered down now that the ice is melted, and doesn't hit quite as hard as you'd hoped, but then you look up at Joel and he's smiling at you, pensive, and--

"That's- That's actually really interesting."

Before you can respond, though, Joel glances at his watch and balks. It is getting late. "Shit," he shakes his head, "I think I oughta call it a night," he says, pulling back. "Early morning tomorrow, and if I stay at the bar I'll just keep drinkin'."

Fuck. That's a dismissal. Of course you went on too much about mushrooms. You'd fucked this up. You'd thought this was going well, but now it felt like a bucket of cold water was dumped over you. "Oh," you nod, matching his posture, and try to swallow down the sudden wave of disappointment. "Of course. Have a good night, Joel."

Joel stands up and then looks you up and down, considering. It's not brazen, but it isn't shy, either. And then understanding flashes across his face.

"Wait- Sorry, that's not how I meant it." He reaches out towards you and you melt into his touch. "I'm messin' this up." He chuckles, but it sounds pained. "Now look, I don't wanna make any presumptions. And I'm really hopin' I'm not coming off as some--dirty old man. Jesus, I haven't done this in a while. But I'm in room 308."

Your eyebrows shoot up. What you'd taken for disinterest was just--nerves?

"I reckon I'll be awake for a while yet. You're welcome to... drop by."

The disappointment melts, making way for a fluttering in your stomach.

"Twenty minutes," you assure him, "308?"

He nods and he brakes into a sheepish grin, shedding what you now realise had been something of an anxious wince. "308."

You watch him leave. When he's out of sight, you toss back the rest of your watery drink and go to pay your tab, but Jeff tells you it was already settled. You thank him and tuck your shaking hands in your pockets. You feel an electricity running through you as you take the elevator up.

When you get back to your room, you hop into the shower, just to freshen up--you keep your hair dry but scrub your body. Once you're clean, you brush your teeth.

Stepping back out of the en suite, you survey the hotel room. Spatula is lounging on the corner of the bed, entirely uninterested in your movements. You top up his dry food bowl and place a kiss between his ears before slipping out.

When you knock at Joel's door, you hear a slight rustle and clatter and then the door swings open, Joel's staring a little wide-eyed, like he didn't actually expect you to show. He's wearing grey sweats and a Johnny Cash t-shirt that looks like it's been around nearly as long as you have. He shifts his weight from foot to foot, an anxious tell that's desperately endearing.

"C'mon in," he smiles, and you step in, closing the door behind you.

You reach out to cup his face, delighting in the feeling of coarse stubble beneath your fingertips. Your first kiss is chaste. You both lean forward and press your lips to one another gently, exploring.

Then, you let out a little moan and Joel shudders. Heat surges between you, and his hands are cradling your head and brushing your cheek and he's pinning you against the closed door. You're kissing again, nothing chaste remaining, learning the taste of him, his rhythm, the crashing waves of give and take between you.

You wrap one leg around him and smirk when he lets out a throaty groan as you grind against his hard cock. You're pretty sure he's not wearing underwear, the thick bulge seemingly unconstrained in his grey sweats, the whole length pressing against your thigh.

Your head falls back and you let out soft, breathy noises as his lips trace along your collarbone, up your throat, and against that tender little spot behind your ear. When he puts your earlobe between his lips and presses his teeth gently against the skin, your knees go weak and he chuckles, strong arms wrapping around you, holding you up.

"Bed?" he asks, and you breathe yes and then, with a yelp and a throaty chuckle, you're lifted up and spun around and both tumbling into the duvet.

You're grasping at each other, desperate to keep your hands on one another. The only times you part is when you undress, and even then, you're helping each other--pulling the hem of his shirt over his lifted arms, pressing into him as he reaches around and moves to unhook your bra, but then he realises you're not wearing one and lets out a groan, his thumbs brushing alongside the tender skin along your ribs, moving gently as if to cup your breasts, but then he pulls back.

Normally you might wait, do this part slowly, draw out the tease just a little bit longer.

Tonight, though, you're ravenous.

As you fiddle with the buttons of your pants, you tug at the drawstring keeping Joel's sweats on his hips. The bow comes loose in one smooth motion, and he lifts his hips and you pull the sweats down.

Your mouth immediately waters seeing him bare, laid out for you. You watch a bead of precum drip down the head and pool on his belly. The coarse hair of his happy trail glistens with it. He's thick, uncut, and looks painfully hard, his cock head ruddy. "Fuck, you're beautiful," you tell him, and his cheeks redden but he grins. It's boyish, the way he grins, and devastatingly charming.

And, what you're saying is true. His body is gorgeous, something you wish you could sketch. Soft flesh over hard muscle, visible tan lines where his chest and shoulders are noticeably lighter than his arms. The muscles and veins along his throat are driving you absolutely fucking insane as he swallows and looks up at you.

He's got freckles on his shoulders, too, and without thinking, you lower yourself down to kiss at his shoulder. He shakes, just a little, and lets out the most beautiful gasp. It's addictive, pulling these noises from him. You follow the curve of him, giving him a taste of his own medicine--tracing feather-light kisses along his collarbone, up the tendons of his neck, behind his ear. You can feel the blood pulse in his veins as your lips brush along him. Joel goes from panting lightly to full on groaning, rutting his hips up towards you and, frustrated, meeting only air.

"Can I taste you?", you ask, and Joel lets out a half-strangled sound and nods, vigorous.

You scoot back, lower yourself, poke out your tongue and, without any preamble, lick at the slit of his head, tasting the salty, tangy precum.

Joel tips his head back and groans and you decide to be kind. You grasp onto his hips and take him in your mouth, slowly sinking down, inch by inch by inch and now you can feel him at the back of your throat, your saliva dripping down the shaft and collecting in the hair between his thighs.

You bob your head up and down, taking him deeper with each thrust, but your throat is full and there are still inches to go. You relax, doing everything you can to take him deeper, and he starts to thrust up gently.

You let him fuck into your mouth but release one of his hips, allowing him to move as freely as he needs and freeing up your hand, which you shove into your underwear, rubbing furiously at your clit.

It doesn't take much to lose yourself in it, to focus only on the sensation. You're so wet, slick coating your fingers, making the glide that much smoother as you touch yourself. Joel tastes so good, too, the intrusion of his cock the most delicious thing, feeling the way he shudders when you moan, the way he moans when you shudder.

"Fuck-" Joel gasps, and then there's a hand guiding you gently off of him.

You raise an eyebrow. "You okay?"

He swallows, hard, and nods. "More than okay. Felt too fuckin' good."

"Oh yeah?" and you lean down, as if to take him back in your mouth, but he chuckles and pulls you back again.

"It's been... a while. For me. And-" He drags his palm down his face, wearing an almost pained expression. "Christ, you just look too fuckin' good down there, mouth stretched 'round me while you touch yourself. An' it feels too fuckin' good, too. I ain't ready for this to be over yet but if you keep lettin' me fuck your throat like that it's gonna be over real quick. And I wanna feel that pretty pussy myself."

You sit back up and he pulls you towards him so you're straddling him.

"You gonna fuck me, Joel?"

"Yes," he breathes, "Yes, baby, please-"

You do an awkward wobble and then stand up, shedding your pants and letting your panties drop, stepping out of them, one foot and then the other, and the way he's watching you is addictive. He watches you with beautiful eyes, drinking all of you in, and suddenly the moment has changed into one of those quiet, intimate moments where you both exhale a laugh.

You straddle him again, and lean down to kiss him, and the electric current surges up. He grabs you by the jaw, meeting your desperation. His lips on yours are exactly the balm you need and you can taste the whiskey on his breath.

"Feels fucking good," you tell Joel as you slide up and down his length. He's not penetrating you, not yet, but the lips of your pussy are spread and you're gliding along him, feeling his head at your clit and thrusting back till you're nearly seated on his balls.

He watches you, nearly unblinking, drinking it all in. Then, he lets out a groan, and half-sits up, suddenly focused.

"Shit," he closes his eyes in frustration, "I don't have any condoms. Shit shit shit-"

You push him back down and kiss him again. Then, you hop off the bed and sift around in your jean pockets.

"Ah-ha!," you exclaim, once you've found your treasure. Joel raises and eyebrow and you wink. "Saw they were selling them in the lobby. Figured it might be a good idea."

"Shit," Joel laughs, and presses his lips just to the side of your mouth. "Clever girl," he tells you, and a shiver goes up your spine.

He leans to help, but you shoo him away and he watches, entranced, as you neatly open the condom wrapper and, with a small amount of difficulty, roll it down his cock.

"Feeling okay?" You ask him, "Shit, I shoulda gotten the Magnums. Is your dick okay? It's not being choked to death by an inappropriately sized rubber, is it?"

Joel snorts. "We'll manage," he says, and then he grips you by the hips, lines himself up. He draws his knuckles along your cunt and groans, "Fuck, so goddamn wet for me-" and, the moment you look at him and nod, he holds the head of his cock against your drooling lips and presses into you.

It's a big stretch as he lowers you down onto him, the intrusion almost painful, but before you can even take a breath, it melts into absolute pleasure. You've fucked people with longer cocks before, and you've fucked people with girthier cocks before, but never have you fucked someone with a cock that's both this long and thick and it feels like you're being split in two and it's perfect and you realise, with a sudden flip of your stomach, he isn't even fully seated inside you yet.

Then, you manage to focus on the words Joel is saying-that had really just been background noise for the past ten seconds or so-and suddenly you're tuning back in for "Tha's it," his voice low and hoarse, surprisingly gentle, "Good girl, takin' this cock so well, look at you."

His brow is furrowed and he's looking at you with such dark eyes, nearly black, the pupils are so blown. "Just a little more, that's it, just one more inch, you can do it, christ, look at you, takin' all of me."

His tone is reverent and it sets a fire through you. You can feel more slickness build and drip out of you, and from the way he moans, you're certain he can feel it too despite the condom.

"So fuckin' wet," he groans, "Soakin' my cock- grippin' me so nice-Fuck--"

He leans towards you and cradles your head in his hand, kissing you hard.

When you both pull back, you know your lips must be kiss swollen and red. His are--they're soft and bright, and you want to eat him whole.

"You're gonna be the death of me, woman."

He's thrusting into you lazily, holding you in place, but you need more, you need all of him.

You push forward and move his hand from your waist to your clit. As you manoeuvre him, his nostrils flare, and you'd wonder if he was angry, if not for the way you felt his cock stiffen even further inside of you. You start to move your hips, to rub up against the thumb on your clit, and to feel every fucking inch of him.

Urged on by the way he groans, you start to ride him, properly. Holding each other close, you fuck down onto him and he leans back, awed.

"Enjoying the show?" you ask.

"Damn- right- I- am-," Joel breathes, every word punctuated with a shuddering breath after you drive back down onto his cock, "Jesus- you- look- so- good- like- that."

You like being watched. Being admired. It sent an extra thrill through you, and your hips stutter, just a little, and now you're following a new, faster rhythm.

"Fuck, that's it, baby-" he praises, "Shit, yes- bounce on it."

You lean forward and kiss his throat, and then he makes this noise, half-strangled and beautiful.

"Shit, honey-- honey, honey, hold on-," he holds you still and you're glad he has, because your brain hadn't quite processed his words.

He's looking at you so earnestly.

"Baby, if you keep ridin' me like this I am gonna blow my load in the next twenty seconds and I don't wanna end this quite so soon."

You hum, a moment of consideration. You stare into his eyes, and part of it is calculated seduction, but another part is getting genuinely lost in the way he looks at you. The crinkles round his eyes. The way he seems able to focus on you, in a way that feels as frightening as it is exhilarating.

"How about this," You smile, "You get yours, and then you can eat me out till I get mine. And if you're ready to go again by the time I've come, we can see where we're at then. Hmm?"

You see a bead of sweat trickle down his temple, and take a moment to appreciate how much he's clearly trying to control himself.

After a moments of avoiding your eye, he looks at you again and he looks utterly wrecked. "You- talkin' like that?" He shakes his head and tries to even his breath. "Fuck, I nearly came right there."

"It's okay," you soothe, and you cup his jaw and resume you movements, riding him like you had before. "You can come if you need to-" your fingertips stroke the stubble of his chin, "You're close, huh? It's okay, daddy, you can let go."

Joel lets out a strangled noise and busts immediately.

You savor the way it feels, the pulse of his cock as he spills into you. No, into the condom, you correct yourself, but you can always pretend-

After his balls relax and you can feel him start to get soft, you hold the condom down as you pull yourself off, and you're nearly unseated when there's a sudden squelch noise that sends you both into tumbles of laughter.

It takes a while to calm down, and you find yourselves heaving, tangled in the sheets, and wrapped up in each other. The condom is hanging limply on Joel's now-soft cock and it's oddly cold and gooey as you accidentally roll against it, and that sends you both off again.

"Fuck," Joel snorts, and tugs at the condom, starting to roll it off his length, "I'd almost forgotten the weird texture of a used condom. Fuckin'... Slug-like."

"That-" you declare, "Is visceral. And I hate it. Thanks."

He snorts, and you suddenly have a question.

"Condoms not making too many appearances in your life?"

"Not many, no."

"What, you usually fuck raw?"

"Just haven't been sleepin' with anyone," he shrugs, nonplussed.

"Well, I gotta say, the good people of Austin have been missing out."

Joel shrugs again, and it comes off as casual, but you notice the way his ears tint pink. "Just- not been something I did. But now, I guess, I can. And with way less guilt."

"Why guilt? Are-" you venture, dread pooling in your stomach, "Are you married?"

His eyes flit up to you sharply, and then soften immediately. He lets out a breath and shakes his head. "No. Nothin' like that. I was married, but I've been divorced nearly twenty years now."

The tightness immediately uncoils and you realise how tense you were only a moment ago. I am not a cog in the machine of a collapsing marriage. Thank fuck.

But now your curiosity is piqued. "So... why the guilt?"

"Sorry, I- I really didn't mean to get into it. I'd rather not get into it. It's- complicated."

"Of course," you shrug, and it isn't a problem because this is just a hot fantasy hookup that you'll remember fondly, and it'll be wonderful masturbation fuel for probably the rest of your life, but you don't wanna make the poor guy go into his life's trauma, especially when he's looking at you so fucking earnestly and you are actually really fucking fascinated but no, you would not let this become a problem.

"Thanks," he says, and then steps out of the room. You hear the clang of the bin as he steps on the pedal, then drops the condom, takes a piss and washes his hands.

"You hungry?" He asks, and you realize very suddenly, you're absolutely famished.

"Yes," you jump up and he laughs when you run, bare-assed and shameless, over to the corner of the room filled with brochures and traveller info and finally, you raise it in triumph when you find it, the list of nearby takeaways.

"Okay," you look at the list, "There's one place at the top of the list here that's apparently highly rated, but I actually have plans there soon and I wanna wait till then to eat there. Hope that's okay."

Joel comes over to you and rests his head on your shoulder. "No problem."

"But... alright," you continue. "There's pizza. Or... more pizza. Or, look--there's a Southern-style place, that'll make you feel right at home!" Joel pokes you in the side and you swat at him as he grunts a laugh.

Suddenly, a warning sound starts playing on loop in your brain. It was dreadfully domestic, wasn't it? This was an absolute stranger you'd just met in a hotel bar? But... it also felt... nice? And it felt nice in ways that you'd never found yourself enjoying before. Even with long-term partners. Maybe because this was so low-stakes, you reasoned, such an inevitably temporary situation, so you weren't putting the same kind of pressure on yourself.

As soon as you think that, the eternal curse of overthinking shows itself and you suddenly feel desperately self conscious. Before you can pull away and make some excuse, though, Joel's arm wraps around you and his thumb starts rubbing little circles into a tender bit of skin between your hip and your tummy. The anxiety spiral you'd been teetering on the edge of suddenly vanishes.

"How about-," he nods at the list, "Pizza?"

After Joel calls in your order, the pizza delivery service tells you to expect your food in about thirty minutes. You remember you have a little box of edibles. You ask Joel if he minds if you take one, and he doesn't. You offer him one, and he automatically declines, but then as he starts to explain, he pauses and pivots, goes "Wait, actually. Yeah. Why not?"

A freckled kid who looks no more than sixteen pulls up with a short stack of pizza boxes and a two liter bottle of root beer. He raps awkwardly on the door after exactly thirty five minutes, and it swings open.

The room looks utterly wrecked, clothing strewn along every surface. Joel answers the door wearing a robe, his entire face smelling of sex, and his moustache still shining with the slick of your release.

"Thanks, kid," Joel nods, and hands him a small wad of cash. The kid eyes him and shrugs. "Keep the change," he tells him, and the door swings back shut.

The edibles have hit beautifully. You're both blissed out, comfortably hazy, lost in the sensation of bare limbs on bedsheets and the flavors of the pizza and it's assorted sauces. You lay together on the bed, paper plates strewn between you. In the background, an X-Files rerun plays.

"Ooh!" You sit up as you catch the premise of the episode, "I love this one! See the goo? There's a giant fungal... entity.. that's working on digesting them, and giving them hallucinations as they die."

"You and mushrooms, huh?" Joel laughs, but then looks back at the episode and contemplates the viscous yellow goo. "Jesus christ," he frowns, and sniffs, now contemplating the mushrooms on his pizza slice.

You spot his glare and snort. "I think you're safe."

He takes another bite and shakes his head as if to clear it.

"I'm getting tired," he admits.

"Me too," you agree.

"No pressure, but in case it wasn't clear, you're welcome to stay the night here."

"That's sweet," you tell him, and think it over. "If I took you up on that, would you be offended if I slip out early?"

Joel raises a brow.

"I have a cat," you explain, "And I'm working on moving into a new place, and meeting a friend for breakfast, and then I need to check out after breakfast because I won't be able to get my keys for the new place until the breakfast but I can't take my cat to a diner-"

You take a breath.

"Basically, I've got a bunch of things I need to do in the morning, but if you don't mind me slipping out around, maybe, 5-ish, then I'd love to stay."

He stares at you.

You regret saying as much as you said. You don't need to over-explain yourself to this actual stranger. He doesn't care. There's no reason for him to care. He's probably in it just for the fuck, and it was fun and if you stay then there's a chance the two of you will wake up at some point in the night, still horny and lustful and you might fuck again and you'd be lying if you said that wasn't part of the draw. You realise, though, you'd also be lying if you said you didn't care what he thought of you. All of a sudden, you are overwhelmed with caring what this man thinks of you.

How fucking inconvenient.

"I wouldn't be offended at all," Joel chews, swallows, wipes the corner of his mouth with a napkin and speaks again. "What's your cat's name?"

You don't know what you'd expected he'd say, but it wasn't that. You buffer for a moment. "It's- Spatula."

"Spatula?"

"Yep." You feel foolish.

"Huh. Spatula."

A silent moment between you.

"Got any pictures?"

You weren't expecting that, either. "I... do? Do you want to see them?" He nods. You pull out your phone to scroll through.

Joel, suddenly scrambled around for his phone, too. It was late and he hadn't checked it for hours. Had it been on silent? What if Sarah had called and he'd missed it?

His panic eased when he saw he had only two notifications. Both from Sarah, but neither were bad. He hadn't been neglecting any crises. The first text was a selfie of Sarah and an unfamiliar person, which she'd texted to him with the caption New roomie!! The second contained an address to the place they'd have breakfast tomorrow along with Just wanted you to know I've invited a friend to join us tomorrow morning! Is that okay? Realized I should maybe have checked with you? 😬

There was an ache in his chest. He wanted to keep her to himself, get to spend one last day, just the two of them. It was the start of a whole new chapter, but more than anything, he wished he could hold onto the moment for just a second longer.

But Sarah was stressed, he knew this, so he wasn't gonna make it worse and put this burden on her. He could handle it. He had to handle it. He typed back- No problem, baby. Can't wait to meet your friend.

After a moment, he followed up with another text. Gonna turn in now. Good nite!

The less he texted right now, the better. He did not want Sarah to know anything about the night he was having.

His screen lit up a moment later. Night Dad! He takes a deep breath and wills some of the tension away.

He slips his phone aside and you scoot into bed next to him.

"This," you announce, "Is Spatula."

Joel scrolls thru, his brows raising higher with each image.

With a single nod, he opens his mouth and instead of speaking, he collapses into laughter. It comes out a wheeze- "I-- I know this won't make any sense, but your cat looks just like my goddamn brother."

You're laughing now too, both of you almost hysterical, even though you have no frame of reference. You cherish the absurdity.

Then, Joel pulls up a picture on his phone and shows you, and now you're doubling over again because his brother looks exactly like Spatula.

You don't remember falling asleep. You curse your body's internal clock because you wake up right at 5am, and even though you know you should get up and leave, you wish you could have just a little bit longer.

It's such a comfortable way to wake up. One arm is folded under your pillow, and the other is slung over Joel's hip. He's asleep, snoring softly, and strands of his hair are mussed along his forehead. Your hand is holding his tummy, but you realise there's something pressing against the heel of your hand, and then realise, with a delicious jolt, that he's hard and straining against his boxers.

It's so fucking hard to get out of that bed, but with enough barely-effective reminders--you're gonna fuck up your whole day if you're late, gotta make a good impression, Spatula's gonna be so disappointed if you're late with his breakfast--you manage to bully yourself out of the warm and wonderful bed containing blankets and absolutely fantastic dick, and you tiptoe through the room, dress quickly, and, after making a note and leaving it on his bedside stand, you slip out.

Joel wakes up with a jolt, and then rolls over to see that the alarm clock (which he dared not contemplate the number of times he must have snoozed) was telling him it was 9:13.

He was late. Really fucking late. And then the panic made his brain spin faster and that's when he noticed the note on his bedside table.

I had a really good time If you're in town for a little longer, don't be a stranger?

It's followed with your name and phone number, and a rather detailed mushroom sketch across the page. He wasn't sure what kind of mushroom it was, but it was beautiful, and clearly hand-drawn, and for whatever reason you'd decided to tear it out of, presumably, your sketchbook? And you gave it to him, and he's gonna read that note and replay last night for the rest of his fucking life. It felt incredibly precious. He placed it in a book so it wouldn't get creased or folded. Made sure it was all contained and neat, totally flat in between the pages.

Then, he dragged himself out of bed and into the shower.

After scrubbing the smell of sex off of his entire body, he dresses quickly and checks his watch again. 9:28.

He texts Sarah and lets her know he's a few minutes behind. She responds with an eye roll emoji.

Joel settles in his truck and pulls up directions. It's only a few minutes away. He won't be too late.

When Joel steps into the diner, he's charmed by it. It's old school, with a checkerboard floor and bright red vinyl seats. He scans the room till he spots Sarah in a booth in the corner. She's laughing over a hot chocolate, and her friend must be in the seat opposite her.

He catches Sarah's eye and she grins at him, waving him over.

You've been at the diner about fifteen minutes, and you and Sarah are already getting along beautifully.

You'd met on a university message board and had become fast friends, but meeting someone in person was always a little terrifying. On top of that, you'd already committed to spending at least one (academic) year with this person, so you were damn sure gonna make it work.

Sarah waves over her dad. You can't see him yet, the back of the booth too high.

But then he's standing right there.

You already have a hand outstretched, but when he sees you and you see him, your stomach flips and dread runs through you. All the color drains from his face. He looks like a deer in headlights, and you'd be surprised if you didn't look the same.

Sarah looks between you, not quite concerned, but definitely confused. Sarah smiles and tries to diffuse the situation.

"Hi dad!" She grins, "This is my new roommate! Well, the other new roommate--the one in the picture, their name is Ellie, they weren't able to make it this morning. BUT. Breakfast seemed like a great time to hand off keys!"

Joel is still frozen and white-faced. Your brain whirs, and you know you've just fucking catapulted yourself into a disastrous mess, but you do your very best to save face.

Reaching your hand out further so he can't possibly miss it, he gives into some familiar social instinct, takes it and you shake. You think of his hands, how they dragged along your body last night, touched you, felt you, wrecked you.

You introduce yourself. He nods, avoiding eye contact.

"Joel." He grunts. "Miller."

Sarah frowns at him, but turns back to the menu.

This- was unexpected. Problematic. Arguably, really fucked up. All of those things and more. But it'll be fine.

All throughout breakfast, you repeat that to yourself, letting the words bounce around your head. It will be fine, you repeat your mantra, it will be fine, and you try not to feel too hurt at the way Joel's avoiding eye contact as if simply looking at you will cause him unimaginable disgust.

Everything will be fine.

Note: The fic's premise is loosely based on the book Mistakes Were Made which is a fucking excellent sapphic romance novel that utilises this trope. Would strongly recommend the book if you're into smutty queer stories.

#joel miller smut #tlou #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #tlou fic #joel miller x f!reader #ok i gotta be honest i was stoned out of my mind for writing most of this #but mostly sober for editing #thank u for bearing with meeeeeee

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yanderambling · 2 years ago

Text

omg i’m thrilled that y’all like him so much!!! and these ideas were soso tasty ugh your minds~ i had a lot of fun with this, maybe too much if you look at the wc lol, so i hope y’all enjoy <3 ALSO continuity note: since Adrian is so popular, i won't carry major events through different stories unless requested, that way everyone can have their own version of his story! but i'll be keeping general facts about Adrian the same unless otherwise specified, like his parents being rich because i find it funny~ thank you and goodnight <3 (and yes i switched this gif with the last part shhhh it’s okay)

pairing: Masochist Puppyboy!Yandere(m) x Bully!Reader(gn)

words: ~ 4.6k

you can read the previous part here!

CW: 18+, NSFW, yandere behavior, stalking, bullying, physical/verbal abuse, BDSM themes, poor BDSM etiquette but neither party minds

Adrian nearly choked when he heard his name read next to yours for the school project.

It took you a second to recognize his; you mostly just call him mutt. Once you realized, you loudly groaned at the prospect of spending the week with that pest.

Adrian couldn’t hear it over his racing heart.

As soon as class lets out, he's right at your side, yammering on about project materials and meeting arrangements and times and "we should really meet at one of our houses so we don't have to worry about distractions, I'm fine with coming to yours! It's closer to school anyway, right? It'll be more private- I just think it makes sense-"

You finally shut him up by making the executive decision that you’ll work at his house (you don’t need him shedding on your furniture, or potentially getting any personal ammunition against you; he is way too interested in being inside your home, and how does he know it’s closer to school?).

Adrian was crestfallen that he wouldn’t get to go in your house (and smell the pure you imbued in your furniture, and pretend he’s really your dog while you sit together- maybe in your bedroom!-, and snoop through your underwear drawer when you go to the bathroom, and snoop through your bathroom when he goes in right after you...), but he was still over the moon at the idea of having you in his space.

(He’ll just visit your window later tonight like usual, anyway- he'll still get high off that closeness alone. Win/win!)

Adrian doesn't think about anything else for the rest of the day, zoning through his classes and plastered to your side whenever he gets the chance, just alight with energy and anticipation and not shutting up about it- he's lucky there's too many witnesses for you to knock him quiet (oh, but he would feel so much luckier if you did).

You would totally bail on this project if you weren’t already failing this class, which is mostly on account of you bailing. You’re wondering if all those cut classes were worth having to work with this, but you’re not feeling hopeful.

The day seems to drag on forever for both of you, for vastly different reasons. By the time school lets out, Adrian is buzzing out of his skin and you're seconds away from ripping it off him.

As you two start the trek to his place, Adrian can't get over how surreal it feels to walk beside you. It's like you two are a couple, and you're walking him home for an after school study date!

He gets lost in the daydream easily, giving you a brief reprieve from his energy, and allowing you to absently notice his rapidly wagging tail almost propelling him down the sidewalk. You can't help but smirk a little at the image that conjures in your mind.

He's truly ridiculous, you can't really believe him sometimes. Doesn't that thing ever get tired? What does he think is gonna happen that's got him so damn excited? That he's gonna get in good with you somehow (hopefully) and you'll leave him alone? (never in his wildest dreams.)

Yeah, fat chance.

When Adrian stops at his house, you think he's joking. But then he walks right up the driveway of this random McMansion, motioning you along eagerly, and enters a security code before holding the door open for you with a clearly anticipatory smile.

...The fuck.

You did not count on Adrian’s family being loaded. He certainly doesn't dress or groom like it.

You consider berating him for not mentioning it, but decide against it for the risk of seeming stupid- to Adrian of all people. You do make a mental note for your future errand requests, though.

Adrian’s parents aren’t home, he tells you his mom is always traveling and his dad basically lives at his office. You’re relieved that you won’t have to put on a nice face for the folks, but there’s apparently still a live-in housekeeper that floats around (are you fucking kidding?) so you stay diligent.

Adrian suggests you two work in his room; you figure the further from watchful eyes, the better.

Despite it being his idea, Adrian can't help his giddy nervousness as you enter his room (he’d texted the housekeeper to make sure it was clean as soon as you decided to come over, lucky he keeps his souvenirs hidden away whenever he’s not admiring them).

The room is frankly ridiculous, easily twice the size of yours, a king bed in the corner, a desk and coffee table and two dressers, and yet adorned with piles of clothes and clutter and more genres of nerdy shit than you even knew existed.

"Yeah, okay, parts of this make sense."

Adrian cocks his head, opening his mouth to ask what you mean, when he suddenly chokes on air.

You've made a bee-line right to his desk, covered in books and papers for hobbies and school alike, but also holding a locked drawer at the very bottom in which he keeps his "school collection" (just discarded pencils with bitten erasers, torn up notebook paper he can still smell your hands on, old gym shorts you were probably gonna replace soon anyway, a bandaid here, a plastic fork there; nothing crazy).

He watches with bated breath as you sift through the contents of his desk, occasionally scoffing or chuckling at what you find. He lets out a sigh when you seem to grow bored, just for you to move on to his dresser and have his stomach doing somersaults all over again.

Maybe he should've asked the housekeeper to hide his stuff better and just braved the questions later...

You move throughout the room like you own it (you do, as far as the both of you are concerned), making little jabs at his various posters and figurines which make his whole body flush hot with pleasure because you're noticing things about him, but every other move you make sends his heart jumping into his throat in a completely different way.

It only takes a minute or two for the stress to get to him.

“Ah- hey! Uh, maybe we should- maybe we should start on the project, right?”

You bark a laugh and spin on your heel to face him, an incredulous half-grin pulling your lips and revealing a gut-twisting flash of teeth.

"We?"

Oh, yeah, he much prefers those intense eyes boring into him.

He starts spluttering placations immediately. "No! Well, uhm, I didn't mean- you, you don't- have to- obviously, I mean, I don't- I wouldn't-"

You roll your eyes and shove past him, effectively cutting him off as you flop down onto his abominably soft mattress. "Right, yeah, whatever. Let's get one thing straight here, okay?"

Adrian nods, his whole being drawn to focus at your entrancingly commanding tone. Although, it's incredibly hard to focus on anything with the sight of you on his bed right in front of him; he's already planning how to avoid that area so it'll retain your scent longer, he wonders if he could cut that part of the duvet out and keep it in an airtight container, maybe the sheets under it too just to be safe...

"This is not a "we" situation, got it? I'm not lifting a damn finger for this bullshit, that's what you're there for." Adrian has a purpose to you! "I am only here to make sure you're actually doing it, which shouldn't be a problem because if we get anything less than an A, it's gonna be your ass."

As tempting as it is to see what punishment you would inflict upon him, Adrian really really really wants to please you- and he's pretty good at this subject anyway!

You then cross your arms and lean back just enough to look down your nose at him. "Got it?"

Adrian can't answer fast enough.

"Yes! Yes, that's perfect! Awesome, good- great!"

But then he doesn’t make a move. Ha.

He looks a little lost, standing in the middle of his own room, barely biting down a grin and wringing his hands as he seems to wait for another command.

Apparently, you’ve trained him well.

You scoff and let yourself fall onto your back as you pull out your phone (Adrian's gonna need a bigger airtight container).

"Well, go on then, we don't have all day."

Adrian scrambles to get to work. He quickly positions himself on the floor by the foot of the bed and pulls the coffee table closer, emptying his school bag carelessly onto the carpet.

You huff a laugh at the sight, all this money and the kid's parents couldn't buy him any class. Maybe sloppiness is an inherent trait, like his apparent passion for service- nobody with this much money should be such a pushover. And yet...

Adrian couldn’t be happier, sitting on the floor while you lounge across his bed and periodically weigh in with (mostly incorrect) corrections or snide remarks, an almost alarmingly wide grin settled on his face as his tail taps a steady rhythm against his carpet.

It’s not an unpleasant picture, you muse absently as you look up from your phone, it’s almost comforting to have your little puppy on the floor, cheerily working away for you while you laze about. It certainly beats doing the work yourself, or having to threaten a student with an actual spine to do it for you.

Still, it doesn't take long for you to get bored. Bored enough to notice your empty stomach, at least.

"I'm hungry."

Adrian's head shoots up from the book he was hunched over, ears raised at attention and eyes glittering with something you're not sure you care to identify.

He's on his feet in the next second, knocking his knees on the way up loud enough to startle you yet showing no signs of even noticing.

"I-I'll ask Len to make something!"

He darts out of the room before you can tell him what you want, but you trust he knows your moods and tastes well enough by this point to predict. (Oh, he does, and Len's not going to be making anything- they don't know all the special ingredients!)

The second he leaves, you decide to really cure your boredom by snooping around in earnest. Certainly this creep has something actually weird hidden in here, you just have to look in the right places.

You waste no time in sifting through his bookshelf (nerd shit), closet (nerd clothes, some dirty), a dresser (nerd clothes, mostly clean), under his bed (dirty clothes, nerd shit in boxes)- the door opens behind you.

“Wha-? Oh! Ah- Wh-what- what are you doing?”

You don’t even bother moving from your crouch, most of your upper body shoved under the bedstand while the rest of you... is not.

Adrian’s mouth is completely dry for several reasons.

“What’re you, blind? I’m snooping.”

Adrian slowly comes further into the room, hesitantly setting the serving tray on the low table. He can’t stop his voice from cracking as he stutters out,

“Uh- yeah, okay, yeah, but- um, would you maybe mind- um, not?”

You snicker, at least he has some manners. “Yeah, I do mind, actually. What’s the matter, mutt? Got something to hide?”

“N-no!”

The answer is so immediate, so fervent, that it has you pulling up just to give him an unimpressed look. He stares back at you, eyes wide and frenzied.

“Jesus you’re a bad liar.”

Looking at him now, you can see sweat glistening on his face and his hands clenching by his side. His eyes dart toward the dresser you haven't checked yet.

Bingo.

You jump up from your position and stride across the room with purpose. You only make it a few steps before Adrian seems to materialize in front of you, making you stop short and almost yelp from shock.

“S-sorry! I’m sorry, I just-" he's waving his hands wildly, head ducked as his gaze rapidly flicks between your face and the floor, "You-you can’t- please, please don’t-”

“Okay, creep, I get the gist.”

You shove past him, and he wishes he could relish the firm pressure of your hands on him.

He whirls around and watches in horror as you approach the dresser. He needs to do something, he needs to stop you, but what can he do? You’ve clearly made up your mind, it’s not like it's his place to try and change it...

All he can do is watch, a high ringing in his ears and his body filling with static, while you meticulously sift through every drawer until his clothes are strewn about the floor and you're panting with frustration.

He's about to let himself take a breath when you suddenly squat down and stick your arm into the shallow space underneath. He nearly swallows his tongue when you let out a disbelieving huff and awkwardly slide out a long lockbox.

You look up at him triumphantly, eyes sparkling with glee, and he almost mirrors your smile just for how captivating it is.

"Open it."

"N-no-"

You lean up toward him and cock your head, he has to stop himself from being drawn in by the magnetism of your narrowed eyes. “The fuck did you just say to me?"

"I'm sorry! I didn't- just, I can't-"

"Oh, I think you can. Or you're not gonna like what happens next."

That's where you're wrong, and it only really strengthens Adrian's extremely shaky resolve. He tries to keep the grin off his face as he habitually starts to picture the punishment you might give him; a cuff on the ears, a knee to the stomach, a punch in the face-

But you just roll your eyes and groan, no longer in the mood now that something more interesting has presented itself.

Instead, your gaze floats down to the flimsy looking combination lock on the box, then it fixes on some heavy-standed figurine you'd knocked off his bookshelf earlier.

Yeah, good enough.

Adrian barely has time to flinch before you're snatching it up and breaking the lock with a sound crack.

Then you're lifting the lid.

"No!"

He starts to lunge forward, but your sharply raised hand halts him dead in his tracks.

Fuck.

It's too late anyway, judging by your wide eyes and slightly slack jaw (god how he wishes he could focus on the glorious curve of your open lips, or the way your perfect teeth peek over them, or how it might feel to have those teeth sunk into his skin-)

"What. The. Fuck."

"I-I can explain- It's not-!"

"I literally do not believe that you can."

Adrian's throat goes dry, he feels tears welling in his eyes. "I'm sorry- I'm sorry! I never meant- it's not like-"

You tune Adrian out as you focus on the stacks and stacks of photos arranged in the box before you. There even seem to be books underneath those, thick ones despite the shallowness of the container. You’d say there’s easily hundreds of pictures in here.

But, more concerning than the amount of photos… is their content.

They’re all you.

Undeniable, from every angle and range and setting you could imagine, it’s all you. There’s you at your spot with your friends, sitting in class, in the cafeteria, running errands in town, sneaking off to that private spot nobody else is supposed to know about, asleep in your bed- in dozens and dozens of iterations, like you could probably make a flip book of every scene.

It’s offensively redundant, honestly, a gross waste of paper. Maybe equally as concerning.

(Adrian needs to keep physical copies, and hard drives, and backup hard drives, and another box further under the dresser... What if something happens to his phone? What if he lost all his treasured photos forever? He doesn’t know what he’d do.)

"You're a bigger creep than I gave you credit for." You murmur, mostly to yourself.

Adrian never thought he'd feel anything but sheer joy from hearing that word leave your mouth. "N-no! It's not- it's not like that! I'm not- I don't-"

While Adrian's still blustering and working himself into a tizzy, you're just... processing.

It's oddly unsurprising, once you consider all the other factors together. Looking at it now, of course Adrian had more perverted reasons for complying to your cruelty, what else could he have been getting out of it? You guess you kinda always knew, on some level, but you never thought it would be like this.

But, since it is, you can't help but wonder just how far this perversion has gone, how far it will go...

This night has been boring enough that you're entitled to a little fun, right?

And besides, looking at him now- all wide eyed and droopy eared, his tail pulled between his legs and clutched in his trembling hands- Adrian actually looks a little bit... cute? In a pathetic, dirty stray caught in the rain type of way, of course.

The only real difference is that you'd be much kinder to the stray.

"Alright, shut it, stalker."

Adrian's mouth snaps closed, his tail trying to tuck further at your dangerously low voice.

"Obviously, this severe-" you flap a stack of photos at him, causing him to duck his head and whimper, "-invasion of my privacy can't go unpunished."

Adrian's eyes become impossibly bigger as they flash up to watch you stand. His ears suddenly perk, his tail tugs against his grip as it tries to hesitantly wag.

Jesus, he's shameless.

This is gonna be fun.

But first, a plan. You don't want Adrian getting too bold, so what better way to keep him in his place than by tying him there? Looking around his room, you don't have much to work with, but you're resourceful; a lace from his sneakers should do just fine (who keeps shoes in their room? what a creep).

"Alright. Sit."

Adrian is falling to his knees before his brain can process the words. When it does, he isn't quick enough to bite down on the high keen that builds in his throat.

You scoff, mentally scorning yourself for ignoring his shit for so long, then go to pull a lace. Adrian watches in rapt attention as you test its strength, your hands flexing so tantalizingly as you pull the string harshly several times over.

He holds his breath on instinct when your scrutinizing glare scans the room again.

"Okay, bed. Back to the headboard. Now."

Adrian scrambles up immediately, pulling some of the sheets off in his hurry, eager to obey before you change your mind.

You follow right after, kneeling up and leaning over him to tie his hands to the headboard above him. His dry throat click as he gulps.

You're so close, your heavenly scent filling his lungs like a sweet paralyzing vapor, he can feel the heat radiating from your skin despite the clothes between you, he could probably taste you if he just stuck out his tongue...

He whines as you yank the shoelace tight with a grunt before tying it off. You tug on his hands once more, forcing the string deeper into his skin, and your hum of satisfaction is drowned out by Adrian's low groan.

What a wonderful feeling, the sharp sting of the lace grounding him down like he needs to be; he can't help twisting and pulling until the burn intensifies, imagining it's your firm hands holding him so tightly...

"Jesus, freak, you're already getting into it?"

Adrian just whimpers, barely registering the question past your condescending tone as he continues to squirm.

You suddenly grab the front of his shirt and pull him forward until he's partially hovering off the mattress, the combined pressure of your knuckles under his chin and the shoestring grating his tender wrists pulls a breathy moan along with.

You lean in close, practically growling as you say, "Don't do my job for me, mutt."

You press a relatively fresh bruise on his arm just to see him twitch and bite his lip (it’s actually from a week ago, that’s how good he is at maintaining your marks for you!). It is pretty gratifying.

Almost as gratifying as the bulge you spot between his wantonly spread legs.

A breathless laugh punches out of you. It's oddly jarring to see, and you would later deny that it's slightly impressive, but it's not an entirely unpleasant sight.

"God, you're fucking pathetic. But you know that, don't you, you little creep?"

If your words weren't enough to have Adrian shaking out of his skin, you lean closer and nip his ear; he jerks back instinctively at the pain, which only makes its sting so much sweeter when you sink your teeth in and pull back.

He doesn’t bother trying to keep himself quiet.

“This isn’t even a punishment for you, is it? Is it, you fucking perv?”

Adrian is so far beyond saving face, he’s mostly beyond communication of any kind, so he just shakes his head fervently and grunts and hopes it’s good enough.

“Use your words, mutt.”

He gasps as you yank his throbbing ear, pulling his face closer to yours- oh dear god he can feel your hot breath against his cheeks, every detail of your perfect face so confident and dangerous and ethereal, your sparkling eyes look positively deadly and Adrian is ready to submit himself to their perils-

“Answer me," your sharp words make his lashes flutter, but he keeps his eyes wide open to stare at your taunting smile hanging just inches from his face, "are you getting off on this?”

He nods, he’s starting to get dizzy with all this nodding but he doesn't feel capable of much else, then you tug his hair back with the most glorious burn-

“Ah-Yes! Yes, I love- I love it, please- give me- more- please, I need- I need-“

He cuts off with a choked sound as your fingers slide up his throat and tighten, all too happy to oblige.

"That what you want? You happy now?" You taunt, your breath against the shell of his ear raising goosebumps all over his body.

He tries to nod against your grip, causing you to smirk and push further.

Oh god yes please-

Garbled moans fight their way from his throat as his eyes roll back in ecstasy, his straddled legs pressing tightly together as he thrashes desperately against the headboard, his whole body trembling and pushing up and up in search of contact- but you keep pulling away, putting more pressure on his neck to support yourself, bringing out the most pitiful little whimpers.

"Use your words, puppy."

Puppy.

Adrian chokes for reasons entirely unrelated to your hand on his neck. His tail, which had been beating a rapid tempo since you sat him down, starts flailing into overdrive.

It takes considerably more effort, but Adrian needs to please you- maybe you’ll even reward him!- so he coughs and gasps until he can force out,

"Y-Yes,” a strained cough, “Tha-agh-thank- you-"

A smile curls your lips unbidden. Such initiative! You let your fingers stroke over his throat as your hand presses in harder.

"There, that's a good boy."

Adrian's vision whites out.

He’s not even aware of the stream of whines and moans that force their way from beneath your fingers, he doesn't notice how his body squirms against the pressure of you on top of him, he couldn't tell the frantic thumping of his tail from that of his heart- all he can focus on is the red hot ecstasy filling every inch of him to bursting, the transcendent bliss of being so thoroughly claimed, so completely controlled, so wholly owned by you.

He's still hiccupping moans and thumping his tail when you withdraw your hand for fear of suffocating him, these needy little noises escaping his already bruising throat.

His head lolls back and his mouth falls open as you remain suspended above him, taking in your handiwork.

He’s so vulnerable, his entire body open and happily exposed to you, every muscle trembling in the aftershocks. His chest heaves as sweat and tears drip down onto his shirt, but he seems to pay no mind as his vacant eyes flutter up at you. He struggles to keep them open as a dopey grin spreads across his bitten lips, and you have to bite your own to stop from returning it.

Then, your eyes travel down to the steadily shrinking tent of his pants, now adorned with a dark wet stain- just like you expected.

Hot.

"Pathetic."

You sit back on you heels, seemingly alerting Adrian to your absence as his hand flies up to grab his throat with a high whine- but you cut that shit off right away.

"Yeah, no, I'm not trying to catch a murder charge tonight, thanks. Besides," your eyes pointedly flick down between his spread legs, causing his face to heat up though he makes no move to close them, "it looks like you got more than your share- frankly, you should be grateful for anything I'm willing to give you."

Adrian's voice is hoarse when he tries to insist, "I am! I-" he cuts off with a heavy cough, which only has you wincing with guilt a little. "I'm- I'm grateful. I am!"

You don't doubt it, especially looking into those watery, red-rimmed puppydog eyes of his. However, you do like to be cruel, and you did just get a bunch of texts from some of your friends about this 'super crazy thing you don't wanna miss and you gotta get down here right now!', (and you're maybe feeling a little uncharacteristically giddy as you fully process your situation) so...

"Doesn't matter, I can't reward this insolence."

You untie the shoelace with a deft tug and slide off the bed without another word.

Adrian just barely stops himself from whining again, the sudden loss of the pressure around his wrists leaving him feeling untethered. He has to dig his nails into his hands as he watches you collect your things (the covered platter lay forgotten on the table, insult to injury), just to keep from reaching out for you.

He wants desperately to follow you, but he can't make his body move for how relaxed and heavy it feels, and he knows it would probably just upset you more anyway- and not in the good way.

“Oh, and Adrian?” You slap the doorframe as you hang off of it, and your use of his name has Adrian's groggy head springing up to face you instantly, ears high and eyes hopeful.

“Next time you want a picture of me, just ask. That way I can knock some sense into you right away.” You tap the frame again, a crooked grin fixing your lips before you push off.

“See ya tomorrow!”

Still too fuzzy to move, and in fresh shock from that almost-genuine smile, he can only listen forlornly as your steps grow fainter and fainter until the door shuts downstairs. Then, he's helpless to do anything beyond replay the events of the past ten minutes in obsessive detail in attempts to permanently document every single sensation you gave to him.

He only manages to move about a half hour later, when his phone buzzes with a text.

He slowly leans over the bed and lifts his phone from the floor, blinking blearily as he reads... your name. Attached to a ludicrously extravagant lunch order for tomorrow.

The phone drops from his fingers like lead.

How?

His heart starts racing as he wracks his brain to recall when you put his number in your phone- then, his tail starts up again as he wonders if he'll be punished for already having yours in his (not for anything weird! he just likes to type out walls of text complimenting every part of you and telling you exactly the ways he wants you to destroy him and then deleting them- but maybe he'll send the next one).

It must mean something good if you want to keep in close contact with him, right? That must mean you aren't really mad at him, right? That must mean you like him, right? You still think he’s a good boy, right?

Another text lights up his phone. He scrambles to grab it back, hands shaking as he holds the screen close to his face.

[ur gnna b my bitch 4evr now]

A shaky giggle escapes him.

Those are easily the most beautiful words he’s ever read.

thanks so much for reading! feel free to send a request <3

check my pinned post~

#yandere x reader #yandere x you #soft yandere #sub yandere #hybrid yandere #puppy yandere #male yandere #bully reader #gn reader #dom reader #yandere oc #yandere imagine #yandere requests

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mxstellatayte · 7 months ago

Note

hiiii ! could you write a part 2 for the charles and the vibe fic?

YIPPEE!!

i was gonna write it anyways but now i have an excuse to do it!

warnings: this is pure filth, threesome (mmf,) p in v sex, unprotected sex (DONT DO THAT,) mirror sex, carlos is an ass guy, charles is a boobs guy tho, kinda exhibitionism?, creampie, sex under the influence kinda?, it's all consensual though!

all you wanted to do was tease charles. all you wanted to do was see how much you could tempt his resolve before it would crumble. you had no idea it would result in getting eaten out in the bathroom and then promptly realizing that carlos had heard the whole thing and had covered for you and charles.

in exchange, carlos wanted to make even on a bet that he and charles had made at the start of the 2023 season.

monaco. february 10th, 2023.

"what do you think the odds are that one of us wins a race this year?"

charles looked up from the chessboard, his eyebrows furrowing. "what do you mean?"

"i was looking at the red bull and mclaren numbers and our car splits them. we have a fighting chance this year, so do you think one of us will get a win this year?" charles moves a rook, taking one of carlos' pawns.

"it depends. if my entire radio just sounds like 'we are checking, we are checking' and i have to make my own strategy and tyre calls, maybe. if xavi learns basic engineering and communicative skills or gets replaced altogether, i'd say yeah, there's a chance."

"you wanna bet?"

"what are we betting?"

carlos hesitates, then looks up when he hears the door opening. something clatters in the closet before you can be heard cursing quietly, then rearranging the fallen shoes onto the rack. eventually, you come through the doorway to the living room, and, when you see carlos, your face lights up.

"carlos! cómo estás?" (how are you?) you walk over and lean down, kissing his cheek in greeting.

"bien. un poco nervioso para bahrain, pero el carro maneja fantástico este año. y vos?" (good. a bit nervous for bahrain, but the car drives amazing this year. what about you?) you walk over to the kitchen while he's talking and pull out ingredients to make yourself a bowl of yogurt and berries- your favorite snack to have after work before you take your pit bull out for a walk.

"i'm alright. the marketing team made a stupid mistake so i had to do some damage control that took way longer than it should have, but i know martin is going to give them absolute hell tomorrow for it, so at least it doesn't reflect badly on me." your bowl clinks on the countertop as you sit down at the island and take out your computer, your headphones that were previously resting around your neck being slipped over your ears. "i've got some emails to write for an upcoming content creator collab we're doing, so i'll be in my zone. you guys know the drill?"

charles nods. "hermit mode?"

you smile, slipping the second speaker over your ear. "hermit mode."

a few moments pass before carlos speaks again. "are you okay with betting her?"

charles' eyebrows raise. "what do you mean?"

carlos makes his move on the chessboard. "if i win more races than you this year, i get her for a night. if you win more races than me, you can use me for a night. however you want."

the thought of his teammate and closest friend getting to fuck you lights a fire inside of charles, and while he wants nothing more than to agree to the bet purely for the stakes of it, he needs to check in with you first. "can i run it by her and get back to you on that?"

carlos nods. "just get me an answer by bahrain so we can figure something else out if she doesn't want to do that."

italy. february 3rd, 2024.

you had forgotten about the bet. charles and carlos had not.

now, just minutes later, you find yourself with your back once again against the wall, but this time you're staring into carlos' eyes while he fingers you gently, your legs wrapped around his waist and charles leaning against the vanity facing both of you. your eyes unintentionally flick over carlos' shoulder to your boyfriend who is an absolute mess. he's palming himself over his slacks, and you can tell just from the flush in his face that creeps down to his neck and the way his eyebrows are pinched together that he likes what he sees. before you can eye-fuck him the way you know he likes, carlos pulls his fingers out of you and you whine, but he carries you over to the vanity and taps your ass to get you to let go. "spin around, amor. let me see that beautiful ass of yours."

this is a side of carlos that you've never seen before, and it would be a lie to say that it's not hot. without a second thought, you spin yourself around so that your back is resting against his chest and your ass rests against his crotch. "come on, hermosa. bend over." as slowly as you can, you lean forward, resting your hands on the vanity and grinding yourself against him and you swear you can feel his dick twitch inside of his own black slacks. as soon as your forearms are fully resting on the granite vanity, carlos runs his hands down your back and to the front of your legs where he pulls the scarlet fabric of your dress to gather on your left side, the slit opening so that your entire ass is exposed. "no panties?" oh. you forgot about that.

"i kept them for good measure," charles says, pulling them out of his pocket. "you want 'em? you might have to shut her up. she never stops moaning."

"i know. i heard everything. you two are lucky i was the one outside and not anyone else. now," carlos says, taking your panties from your boyfriend and shoving them in his pocket, "do you feel like returning the favor?"

the whiskey you'd downed earlier is taking its effect, and you can't help but bite your lip and nod. normally, you wouldn't be nearly as confident as you are now with someone other than your boyfriend having you in the position you're in right now, but you trust carlos and frankly, you're too turned on to care. charles is in the same room and you're both comfortable enough in your relationship that it's okay. "yes, carlos. i'll return the favor. whatever you want." as you're talking, you can hear carlos unbuckle his belt and unzip his slacks, and when there's finally one layer of fabric between the two of you, carlos reaches into his jacket packet and pulls out a condom. before he opens it, though, you pipe up, your voice embarrassingly breathy and high. "i'm clean and on the pill. don't waste it if getting me pregnant is your only concern."

"are you sure?" carlos says, glancing over at charles. your boyfriend only responds with a shrug and points his thumb at you.

"whatever she says. you're the one fucking her."

carlos doesn't waste a second setting the condom on the vanity, pulling his slacks and underwear down his thighs just enough so that it's comfortable, and pushing into you. you have to bite your lip and cover your own mouth to prevent yourself from moaning too loudly, the stretch from carlos being so different to the one you're accustomed to with charles.

when you look up, carlos' head is thrown back and his hands grip your hips so tight his knuckles are white. it might be the hottest sight you've ever seen. "carlos." your voice is whiny, and you're shocked you can even get his name out.

"hm?"

"fuck me, please."

"are you sure?" his voice lilts in the way you're used to hearing, but this time, there's something slightly different about it. maybe it's the fact that he's currently buried inside of you, his hips flush with your own, or maybe it's the fact that every time you move your head to look up at him, your cunt squeezes around him so perfectly he fears he might cum within three thrusts, but either way, you feel so, so perfect.

"positive. now please. fuck. me." slowly, carlos pulls his hips back before pushing into you, slowly increasing his pace until every time his body meets your ass, you're shoved forward slightly on the counter and your breasts bounce forward, almost falling out of the low neckline of your dress.

"mierda, amor, tienes un coño hecho para mi," (shit, love, you have a cunt made for me,) carlos groans out, pulling your arms back and holding them with one hand while the other goes to hold you up by your neck. the restriction to your windpipe makes your head spin and the new angle has carlos' entire cock running against your g-spot with every thrust. you're able to wiggle your hands free, your left hand reaching back to tug at carlos' hair and your right goes down to rub circles around your clit, making you tighten around carlos' dick, and the combination of the pain from his hair being pulled and your cunt spasming around him makes him tip over the edge.

the feeling of carlos filling you up in turn sends you into your own orgasm, and as you cum, you look to your left, where charles jerks himself off watching you. when you make eye contact with him, though, it's the last straw and he spills into his hand with a quiet groan and his head thrown back.

the three of you catch your breaths and carlos pulls out of you gently, then shoves his cum back inside of you. the forgotten egg vibrator in charles' coat pocket is reinserted into your cunt and you whine at the overstimulation, slightly anxious that charles might tease you again, but he whispers a quiet promise in your ear that you've been good tonight, he won't turn it on anymore.

eventually, carlos slips out of the bathroom and you follow shortly after, walking back down the large hallway to return to the event. later that night, after speeches have been made, hollow promises have been spoken, and many, many bottles of expensive champagne have been toasted with, you make your way back outside, your arm linked with charles' as he calls his car to be pulled with the valet service. carlos walks up and stands next to the two of you, his car already on its way up, and turns to you.

"i'd say the bet is settled, no?"

there you have it folks :D

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littlelamy · 11 days ago

Text

𝑔𝓎𝓂

author's note: nothing! i hope y’all like it 🤭

Rafe's shirt clung to him, sweat rolling down his temple as he set down the dumbbells with a grunt. He was in the zone, his muscles flexing under the strain of his workout. The makeshift gym in his garage echoed with the sound of his heavy breathing, and you stood in the doorway, watching him with a smirk.

"Need something, babe?" he asked, not even sparing you a glance as he moved to adjust the weight on the bench press.

You tilted your head, leaning against the doorframe with a playful pout. "Maybe I just missed you."

He finally looked up, his blue eyes narrowing slightly. "I'm almost done. Be patient."

Patience wasn’t exactly your strong suit, especially not when he looked like that—shirt riding up, revealing the sculpted curve of his abs, veins on his forearms prominent as he adjusted the bar. You sauntered over, feigning innocence, and slid your arms around his waist from behind.

"Rafe," you murmured, your voice low and teasing. "I think you should take a break."

He sighed, half amused, half exasperated. "Y/N..."

You trailed your hands over his stomach, feeling the tension in his muscles as he stilled beneath your touch. "Please?" you whispered, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. "I really missed you."

He turned around, towering over you, his jaw set but his eyes glinting with something darker. "You’re trouble, you know that?"

You grinned, running a finger down his chest. "Only for you."

Rafe caught your wrist before you could tease him further, his grip firm but not unkind. "You think you can just interrupt me and get whatever you want, huh?"

You looked up at him, your breath hitching as he stepped closer, his presence overwhelming. "I was hoping," you said, your voice softer now.

He chuckled, low and dangerous, before backing you against the wall. "You have no idea what you’re asking for."

His hands braced on either side of you, caging you in against the wall, and you couldn’t stop the small hitch in your breath as Rafe’s eyes dragged over you, his smirk tilting into something darker. “You’ve got my attention now, princess. What are you gonna do with it?”

Your cheeks flushed, but you didn’t back down. Meeting his gaze, you let your hands trail up his chest, your fingertips brushing the damp fabric of his shirt. “I was thinking… you could help me out,” you murmured, tilting your head as you tugged gently at his shirt.

He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear, and the rough edge in his voice sent a shiver down your spine. “Help you out? Is that what you call interrupting me, climbing all over me like you own me?”

Your laugh was breathy, teasing. “Maybe I do.”

Rafe pulled back, his brows raising in mock disbelief. “Oh, you own me now? That’s cute, baby.” His fingers caught your chin, tilting your face up to meet his gaze. “You don’t know what you’re playing with.”

You rolled your eyes at his theatrics, though your pulse quickened under his intense stare. “Maybe you should show me, then.”

His smile was wicked as he pushed his body flush against yours, pinning you between the wall and the heat of his chest. “You want me to stop my workout to deal with you?” He leaned in closer, his lips brushing just over yours. “You better make it worth my time.”

Your hands moved instinctively, sliding beneath his shirt and across his taut stomach, the heat of his skin under your palms igniting a boldness you didn’t know you had. “I think I can manage,” you said, your voice soft but laced with challenge.

That was all it took.

Rafe’s lips crushed against yours, and the air left your lungs as he kissed you with a mix of frustration and hunger. His hand gripped the back of your neck, holding you in place, while the other settled firmly on your waist. The heat between you was electric, and his growl against your lips made your knees weak.

“See what you do to me?” he rasped, his forehead pressing against yours as he caught his breath. “You drive me insane, Y/N.”

You smiled up at him, breathless and giddy. “Then I guess you’re stuck with me.”

Rafe let out a short laugh, shaking his head. “Yeah, I am. But don’t think I’m letting you off easy for this.”

The spark in his eyes told you he wasn’t lying, and the anticipation of what came next made your pulse race.

Before you could respond, Rafe spun you around, pressing you firmly against the wall with one hand on your hip and the other braced beside your head. His voice was a low growl, laced with that signature mix of frustration and amusement.

“You think you can just walk in here, tease me, and get your way?” he murmured, his breath hot against your neck. His lips brushed just beneath your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. “You’re a spoiled little thing, you know that?”

“Only for you,” you quipped, though your voice was softer now, your confidence faltering under the heat of his gaze.

Rafe chuckled darkly, his grip tightening on your waist as he pressed his body flush against yours. “Damn right you are,” he muttered, his lips trailing a path down the side of your neck. The combination of his rough hands and his teasing kisses had you melting, and he knew it.

“You’re supposed to be working out,” you whispered, though your words lacked conviction as his hands roamed lower, teasing the curve of your hips.

“I am,” he shot back with a smirk. “You just gave me a better kind of workout.”

Before you could roll your eyes, Rafe spun you around to face him again, his hands cupping your cheeks as he kissed you—hard and demanding. He kissed like he was proving a point, like he had to remind you exactly who was in control, and it left you breathless.

Breaking the kiss, he leaned back just enough to look at you, his chest rising and falling as he tried to catch his breath. “You’re trouble,” he said, his voice rough, but the way he looked at you was anything but annoyed.

“And you love it,” you teased, reaching up to run your fingers through his hair.

His smirk softened, and for a moment, he let his forehead rest against yours. “Yeah,” he admitted, his voice quieter now. “I really do.”

Rafe’s admission hung in the air, his voice low and raw in a way that made your heart skip. He pulled back just enough to look at you, his blue eyes dark but still soft around the edges, like you’d somehow broken through the guarded walls he always put up.

You smirked, trying to lighten the weight of his words even though they sent warmth spreading through you. “So does that mean I can interrupt your workouts more often?”

Rafe huffed out a short laugh, shaking his head. “You’re ridiculous,” he said, though his hands slid to your waist, pulling you closer again. “But don’t think I’m letting you off that easy.”

“Oh?” You raised an eyebrow, your voice teasing. “What are you gonna do about it?”

His smirk returned, but there was something dangerous in his gaze now, something that made your stomach flip. “You really don’t know when to stop pushing, do you?”

You bit your lip, shrugging playfully. “Not when it’s this much fun.”

Rafe didn’t respond, at least not with words. Instead, he bent down, gripping the backs of your thighs and hoisting you up effortlessly. A surprised gasp left your lips as you instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist, your arms looping around his neck.

“Rafe!” you squealed, but his grin only widened.

“Yeah, keep saying my name, baby,” he said, his voice rough with amusement as he carried you toward the padded bench he’d just been using. He set you down gently, leaning over you with his hands on either side of your hips.

“You wanted my attention,” he murmured, his lips ghosting over yours. “You’ve got it. Now what?”

Your cheeks flushed under the weight of his gaze, but you weren’t about to back down now. “I want you,” you whispered, your voice soft but steady.

For a moment, Rafe just looked at you, like he was committing this moment to memory. Then his smirk softened into something warmer, and he leaned down, brushing his lips against yours in a kiss that was surprisingly tender given the fire in his eyes earlier.

“You’ve got me,” he murmured against your lips.

Rafe’s lips lingered against yours, slow and deliberate, as though he was savoring the moment. The tenderness in his touch contrasted the tension from moments before, and it left your head spinning. His hands rested on your thighs, fingers flexing slightly as if he was grounding himself.

You let your hands drift to his shoulders, gripping the taut muscles there as you whispered, “What happened to not letting me off easy?”

He pulled back just enough to look at you, the corner of his mouth quirking into a smirk. “Oh, I’m not,” he said, his voice low and rough. “But you’re making it hard to decide if I want to punish you for interrupting me or reward you for being this irresistible.”

Your cheeks flushed, but you didn’t falter. “Can’t you do both?”

Rafe let out a low chuckle, shaking his head as if in disbelief. “You’re such a brat,” he muttered, but there was no bite to his words—only amusement and something softer that made your chest tighten.

He leaned in again, his lips brushing against your neck this time, and the teasing graze of his teeth made you shiver. “You drive me insane, you know that?” he murmured, his breath hot against your skin.

You smiled, threading your fingers through his hair. “Good.”

Rafe’s laugh was muffled as he pressed his face into the crook of your neck, and you could feel the warmth of his smile against your skin. “I don’t know what I’m gonna do with you,” he said, though his hands sliding up to your waist seemed to suggest he had a few ideas.

“Guess you’ll just have to figure it out,” you teased, pulling back just enough to meet his gaze.

He shook his head again, but the affection in his eyes was undeniable. “You’re lucky I love you,” he said, his voice quieter now.

Your breath caught at his words, and for a moment, the playful atmosphere shifted into something deeper. “Yeah?” you asked softly, your hand drifting to his cheek.

Rafe nodded, his expression unguarded in a way that made your heart ache. “Yeah,” he said simply, leaning into your touch.

The tension shifted into something softer, more vulnerable, as Rafe leaned into your touch. Your fingers brushed against the stubble on his jaw, your thumb tracing a gentle line across his cheekbone. He closed his eyes for a brief moment, like he was savoring the quiet intimacy between you.

“You’re lucky I love you too,” you murmured, a small smile tugging at your lips.

Rafe’s eyes snapped open, and his expression was a mix of surprise and something else—relief, maybe, or gratitude. “You mean that?” he asked, his voice quieter now, almost hesitant.

You nodded, your heart pounding in your chest. “Yeah, I mean it.”

For a moment, neither of you spoke, the weight of the moment settling between you. Then Rafe broke into a grin, one so genuine it made your stomach flip.

“Well,” he said, his tone teasing but warm, “guess I really can’t let you go now.”

You laughed softly, your hands sliding back to his shoulders. “Not that you ever could,” you shot back, your confidence returning.

Rafe smirked, his hands tightening on your waist. “No, I couldn’t,” he admitted, leaning in to kiss you again. This time, the kiss was slower, more deliberate, like he was taking his time to memorize every detail.

As his lips moved against yours, his hands roamed, trailing up your sides and settling just beneath the hem of your shirt. His touch was warm, and the gentle press of his fingertips sent a shiver down your spine.

“Still think I should’ve stayed focused on my workout?” he murmured against your lips, his voice low and teasing.

“Maybe,” you replied, your smile evident even as you kissed him again. “But this is way more fun.”

Rafe chuckled, pulling back just enough to rest his forehead against yours. “You’re trouble,” he said again, though his tone was laced with affection.

“Good trouble,” you corrected, grinning up at him.

“Yeah,” he agreed softly. “The best kind.”

taglist: @namelesslosers @maybanksangel @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @starkeysprincess @sixrosberg @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0 @kissrotten @rafesangelita @sstargirln @rafedaddy01 @soldesole @bakugouswaif @skywalker0809 @vanessa-rafesgirl @evermorx89 @aariahnaa @outerhills @ditzyzombiesblog

credits: @dollywons for the png!

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anakinstwinklebunny · 16 days ago

Text

SUMMARY: you have a weird relationship with your boss..

PAIRING: CEO!anakin x assistant/receptionist!reader

PART ONE

You were late.

Not by much, only seven minutes and forthy-three seconds, to be exact, but late enough for it to matter when your boss was ANAKIN SKYWALKER

You stepped off the elevator, nearly tripping over your heels when you began rushing towards his office. The stupid black coffee you'd grabbed from the lobby machine was sloshing dangerously close to the brim of the cup. Your heartbeat rang in your ears, and it wasn't just from the sprint through the highest building in the city but also from the idea of what was about to happen behind those glassy doors.

"Good morning, Mr.Skywalker" you managed to say right after you pushed open his heavy doors, and in a seconds of your long, fast steps, you extended towards him the cup of coffee like a peace offering.

Anakin, as always, was sitting behind his massive oak desk - once belonging to his grandma, then to his mother, now to him. Although from all three of them, he was the most insufferable.

Those piercing, ocean blue eyes lifted from the stack of papers shattered in obsessive chronology in front of him. He didn't even glance at the coffee you've almost killed yourself for, but he leaned back in his chair, with the leather cracking softly beneath him.

"You're late" he said in the same low, cutting voice you're hearing for eight hours per day

of course he'd say that

"I--the traffic was--"

He raised a hand, silencing you with a look that could've stopped the traffic itself. His gaze flickered to the cup in your hand, and a sharp, humorless smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as if he knew you hadn't get it from the ordinary (yet his favourite) coffee shop

"Is that supposed to be my coffee?"

"Yes, sir" you replied, although you were not sure if you should be so confident about this statement

He finally reached out, taking the hot cup wrapped around your hand with his long, slim fingers. You watched as he brought it to his lips

He grimaced.

"Goddammit, this tastes like burnt tire rubber," he muttered, clicking his tongue as if trying to swallow the remainds of the black liquid that nonethless will haunt him to the end of the day if he won't get a better one

But who's gonna tell him he was the one who chose the coffee machine in this workplace?

His eyes flicked back to you "You thought this was acceptable to give me?"

Heat rushed to your face "I--I didn't have time to stop at the cafe--"

"Do you know what i pay you for?" he interrupted (his possibly favourite thing to do to you) before standing up and rounding the desk until he was standing right on the edge of your comfort zone - if that even existed in his mindset

your breath hitched as you stared at him "To..to assist you?"

"To anticipate me," he corrected in soft yet firm tone, eyes scanning your face in a way that made your stomach twist "To know exactly what I need before i even ask for it" one step from him closer and your nostrich picked up his cologne -- a mix of vanilla and something stronger "Do you think I need this?" he gestured to the offending coffee cup

"No, sir" you managed, eyes moving on the floor

"Look at me"

You swallowed hard, forcing your gaxe back up to meet his - gosh, this was so embarassing. And it was only eight am..

"You're going to make it up to me" voice low and smooth, eyes lightly softened (which was rare for his egotism)

"h-how?" your mind swirled with thoughts of loosing your first ever job at this high company business

A slow smile spread across his face, and for a moment, he looked almost amused, pleased even. "Relax. I'm not going to fire you" his eyes followed the loose strap of hair that escaped from your low bun, and in a matter of seconds, he was already brushing it behind your ear. The touch made you froze, yet it was suprisingly gentle for someone who made such changings the first day he replaced his mother. Yet, maybe because of your delusion, his action also gave you deep confusion. It wasn't the first time he'd done something like that yet each time it felt like the first - but it made you question things..who were you this time? Lovers? Coworkers?

"But you are going to fix this" he continued in this tone that left no place for argument "You're going downstairs, get me a proper black coffee--none of that machine garbage--and you're going to do it under ten minutes. Understood?"

shit.

"yes, sir" you replied out of reflex, quickly turning to leave

"oh, and one more thing" he called after you

you paused, glancing back at him.

His smirk was back, pen between his slim fingers, as he was sitting by his desk "Don't let it happen again, y/n"

TAG LIST: @kingdomhate @divineani @haydensprettyprincess @skyguys-princess @catnipaddictt @heartscone @haydensbbg @inneedsoffanfics @jediavengers @literally-izzy @anisluvrgirl @slutforfinnickodair @xhunnybeeex @fuckmyskywalker @gallerygourmet @deceptiive @anakinskwkler @bimbo-baggins17 @cookybananas @emotionallybruisedx @diorvalentina @sevinax @throughparisallthroughrome @aniiuv @ritosparty @ninastyless @lily-strnlo @thesassypadawan @awhhayden @sydkneez @anisangeldust @r0b-in

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entwined-fxte · 10 months ago

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never let go.

a/n: listen i know i just wrote nightmare trope on my other blog but this is for my fragmented dreams fans (it's me i'm the fan). also BIG shoutout to that anon a few days ago cause i wasn't feeling motivated until i saw that in my inbox anon u are my whole world

content: soothing a certain doctor after a hard night.

WARNINGS: brief depictions of a nightmare (zayne's pov)

zayne × gen!reader (you/your).

fluff + comfort.

it was hard to see zayne like this. already exhausted from long nights of risky procedures, he could barely get any rest from his nightmare plagued mind. day after day, you saw the fatigue building up, his eyes dull no matter what he did. you decided you'd seen enough, and if anything, you were sure that he'd had enough as well.

luckily, it wasn't hard to get zayne to accept an invitation to stay overnight at your place. perhaps it was the tiredness that made his mind bleary, having him say yes before he even realised. or perhaps it was the idea of having you around him; sleep wasn't easy whether he was alone or with someone else, but zayne couldn't deny that you being close soothed his mind ever so slightly.

“ready to go home?” you poked your head through his office door, catching a glimpse of a the tail end of a yawn.

zayne turned his head to look at you, gaze foggy as he tried to process it all. he gave a low hum in return, pushing his chair back to give him room to stand up. “you're earlier than i thought you'd be.”

you slipped through the doorway, shutting it behind you with your foot as you made your way in. “i cleared the wanderer zone pretty quickly. after all, i'm a really good hunter,” you laughed, setting your backpack down on the ground to stretch.

“really now?” the corners of zayne's mouth curled up in amusement. you wondered when the last time he really smiled was. he stifled another yawn as he hung his lab coat up, exchanging it for a grey cardigan. “let's get going.”

you ordered delivery to your apartment while zayne drove back to your place. the silence was comforting, and yet, you couldn't shake the feeling that there was more going on in zayne's mind that he let on. as you stepped out of the car, you shot the doctor a worried look. “i know you're usually not talkative, but is there something that's bothering you?”

zayne said nothing, instead shrugging his bag onto his shoulder and nodding towards your building. although quiet, you were certain you heard him whisper a low “later,” as he locked the car doors and headed off.

the delivery man caught you just before you closed your front door, handing the bag off to you before scuttling away. the sight made you laugh, and to your delight, zayne was also chuckling under his breath. after a moment, you shuffled him inside, setting the food down on the counter and your bag next to the couch. “you shower first, zayne. i'm gonna make some tea first.”

“sure.” with muffled steps, zayne disappeared into the washroom, leaving you to your own devices. it wasn't long before there were two cups of tea on the counter, and you carefully sipped yours while waiting for zayne to finish. he was silent when he came out; you didn't realise he had finished until you felt his arms wrap around your waist and his nose bury into your hair. you placed a hand on top of his, ghosting over the backs of his knuckles as he spoke. “you’re warm.”

“mmhmm. and as per usual, you're freezing.” you craned your neck up to look at him, reaching up with your other hand to trace his jawline. “here’s your tea. you can go ahead and start eating if you're hungry, too. i should freshen up.” zayne made a quiet sound of affirmation, slowly releasing you from his grasp while you shifted off your chair. a part of you hurt to leave him like that, but you figured that the sooner you could finish your night routine, the better.

you came out of the shower not long after, padding back into the living room to find zayne sitting comfortably on your couch with a book open. “zayne,” you called softly, waiting for him to turn his head up at you. when he did, you grabbed at the spine of the book, folding it closed before taking it away from him. “i invited you over to take it easy, not to read the medical journals you snuck back with you. did you even eat anything?”

zayne hummed in response, as he always did. “yes. i set aside your favourites already.”

“that wasn’t exactly necessary,” you mumbled. “anyways, it’s getting late. aren’t you tired?”

he placed the book down on the coffee table, shoulders slouching as he leaned forward. “it’s nothing more than usual.”

“liar.” with your lips pressed into a thin line, you leaned down towards the raven haired man, poking at his forehead accusingly. “you actually look even worse than usual.”

“how kind of you.” you tapped at his forehead a few more times, only stopping when zayne took your hand in his and pulled it down. you could hardly feel the way his fingers tightened around yours, but his expression gave him away.

with a sigh, you took your free hand and ran it through his hair. “come on. if i can protect linkon city from wanderers, i think i can protect you while you’re asleep.”

in a rare moment of vulnerability, zayne pressed further into your palm, exhaling softly as he did. “then i suppose we can give it a shot.”

cheering internally, you couldn't help the smile that creeped onto your face. the hand that zayne had trapped in his began to pull him up from the couch, waiting until he was steady on his feet before leading him to your bedroom. once inside, you crawled on top of the mattress, never once letting go of him as he followed suit. the last remaining traces of the sunset glow slowly disappeared from sight, leaving your bedroom under the gentle cascade of moonlight. you let go of zayne for a second to hop off the bed again, switching off the ceiling light and then returning to lay down next to him.

a low chuckle sounded from his chest as you bounced in your spot. “well? what's your great plan this time?”

“the plan is to wait until you fall asleep.”

“and do you expect that to happen soon?”

“i do.” you adjusted yourself onto your side. with some effort, you threw the blanket over yourself and zayne, burrowing your body in for a brief second before stretching out and beckoning to him. “come here.” zayne didn’t bother with a response, only giving you an unreadable look. but after a few seconds, zayne resigned, bringing himself towards you. you couldn’t help but give him an exasperated look when he stopped further from you than you wanted. “closer,” you murmured, sliding an arm around his waist and tugging him in. “i can’t hold you if you’re so far away.”

a sigh slipped past his lips. yet despite the way he sounded annoyed, zayne accepted the invitation, tucking his head down into the dip of your shoulder as he wound his arms around you. legs became tangled in seconds, and you could’ve sworn you felt him sigh in relief when you started carding your hand through his hair. “so your plan is to make sure i can’t run away,” zayne hummed against your skin. you laughed at the accusation, and for a fleeting second, zayne felt like the sound could heal him from anything.

“i might as well try to keep you from working.” were it possible, you would have pulled him closer. instead, you settled by pressing your lips to the crown of his head. “sleep, zayne. i won’t let go.”

the words echoed in his mind, resonated in his heart; but the next time he opened his eyes, there was only an empty space next to him. “y/n?” panic rooted in his chest, sitting upright to find nothing but silence. zayne climbed off the bed, fear driving him to look through the windows. outside, wanderers flooded the streets, turning it into a sea of black. for a moment, zayne caught a familiar face; and he could do nothing but watch as you were drowned in the abyss.

you kept stroking up and down his back rhythmically, attempting to soothe zayne’s restless movement. eventually, his eyes flew open, gaze misty as he suddenly gripped onto you. you waited until his breathing steadied, continuing to draw circles into his skin even after he had calmed. “another nightmare?”

zayne exhaled deeply, turning his face down so he could press his forehead against your collarbone. “you didn’t let go.”

your other hand returned to his head, playing with the hair at the base of his neck. “i told you i wouldn’t.” the way zayne shivered didn’t go unnoticed. unsure if it was the cold or his fear, you tightened the blanket around the both of you as best you could. “go back to sleep. it hasn’t even been two hours.”

zayne spoke again, barely audible. “will you let go?” and then he felt your chin, gently moving side to side across his head.

“not in a million lifetimes.”

silence fell like snow, with only the sound of your intertwined breathing filling the room. with a final sigh, zayne closed his eyes and pressed himself into you, searing your warmth into his soul as if it were the last time he could.

and this time, when zayne dreams, he dreams of a certain hunter, and of a field of jasmines.

a/n: happy actual first post!! the urge to write "rei" instead of zayne and "MC" instead of "y/n" was ridiculously high. also his new card?!?#?@?@: i'm on the ground ......

reblogs are really appreciated (´ω｀) ♡

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace zayne #love and deepspace rei #love and deepspace li shen #zayne #zayne love and deepspace #zayne x reader #lads zayne #zayne x you #love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace fluff #aris writes ❄️

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patscorner · 9 months ago

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FAMILY DINNER

Summary: Chris joins your family for dinner for the first time and it does not go as planned

Tw: Swearing, narcissistic dad, verbal arguing, panic attack mentions of alcohol use, mentions of ed(NO DETAIL), lmk if I missed something

______________________________

"Baby, it'll be fine. I'm sure they're not so bad." Chris spoke. It was 6:45, and you and Chris were heading to a family dinner. After you and him had started dating, him, his brothers, and your family have been begging to meet one another.

But you knew better. You knew your dad couldn't hold his tongue, and you knew your mom couldn't hold back her comments about how you sat, how you spoke, how you looked. You knew your brothers and your sisters knew how to mess with you, not enough to make you cry, but just enough to piss you off.

"Chris, you have no idea." You say, leg bouncing nervously as you both sat in the back seat of the van. You only agreed to go if Matt and Nick came with, knowing that Chris wasn't going to be able to keep his temper in check.

"Don't worry, y/n, it'll be okay. It's not like any of us are gonna provoke them. They don't have any reason to hate us." Matt chimed in from the drivers seat. Chris squeezed your thigh reassuringly.

"It's not you guys that I'm worried about." You muttered, biting your nails. You just hoped your dad didn't have much to drink tonight.

"Plus, we're youtubers, a little back handed comment isn't gonna affect us." Nick smiled triumphantly.

Boy, were they in for a treat.

____

After what felt like 2 minutes, Matt parked the car in front of your childhood home. You've dreaded this moment ever since you and Chris started dating. You knew the time would come, but you just ignored it and pushed it back as far as you could. But eventually, everyone became impatient, and you were pushed out of your comfort zone.

Chris wasn't prepared. None of them were because nothing could prepare them for what they were getting into. Growing up with 2 older brothers, a younger brother, and 2 younger sisters, you knew just how quick it could turn hostile. You knew how it could be peaceful one moment, and the next, 2 people are driving off, 3 are crying, and one is smashing plates.

It could get ugly quick. Mostly, you were able to hide most of your family troubles from Chris, only occasionally giving him bits and pieces. This was completely different. This was a full view of what and where you grew up, and if anything was off or revealed, Chris would be there to see. That scared the shit out of you.

And Chris knew that, so he didn't push, no matter how eager he was. He never pushed you to do anything that made you uncomfortable. This, though, meant a lot to him, so he did voice his opinion.

So here you were, standing outside of the home you grew up in, with your boyfriend and his triplet brothers. You take a deep breath before knocking.

Here we go.

You lean back into Chris, who's hand found home around your waist, squeezing gently. He kissed the crown of your head, whispering, "Relax, baby, we got this."

You nod as you hear the lock turn and the door open. Your oldest brother, Peter, who was 26, stood in front of you. He looked much different from the last time you'd seen him, which was like 2 years ago.

Last time you two were together was at Christmas when your dad decided to get plastered the morning of Christmas and destroyed everyone's presents. Thousands of dollars down the drain. You swallowed at the memory.

"C'mere kid." Was all Peter said before engulfing you into a long needed hug.

You melted into your brothers touch. "It's been too long. Way too long." You mumble against his chest.

When you pull away, you see tears in Peter's eyes. You slap his chest playfully, "Oh, you big baby, don't cry."

He laughs, shaking his head and rubbing his eyes. You laugh and hold his hand.

Nick clears his throat, bringing your and Peter's attention to the three same face boys.

"Oh! Yeah, Peter, meet my boyfriend, Chris, and his older brothers, Matt and Nick." You say, moving out of the way for the men to exchange greetings and hand shakes.

"I'd like to apologize in advance, I'm definitely gonna have trouble telling you guys apart." Peter laughs.

"Oh, don't worry about it. It happens all the time." Matt reassures. Nick and Chris nod in agreement.

"Okay, well, Dad's at the store - thank God -" He interrupted himself, putting his hands together and looking up, earning a chuckle from you, "but everyone else, excluding Cam, is here."

Your heart drops at his sentence. Your second oldest brother, Cameron, hadn't been to a family gathering since he moved out. You can't say you blame him, knowing your family, you wish you'd had the heart to leave too. It was still disappointing, despite how much you understood. Cam and you had always been the closest growing up, and your heart ached, knowing the rest of your family ruined that bond for you two. You and him were only 2 years apart, him being 22, and you being 20.

You knew you shouldn't have expected him to magically appear, but you were hopeful.

"That's okay. Let's go inside, I want them to meet the rest of the dumbasses." You say, trying to hide the disappointment, and it mostly worked, but when you turned around, you knew Chris knew.

He always knew.

You smiled at him and grabbed his hand, leading him into your house, gesturing Matt and Nick to follow.

Peter leads everyone down the hallway, the sound of playful yelling sounding from the living room. Peter took a left, walking into the room, smiling widely.

"Guess who's here!" He says happily, turning around to you, who stands in the doorway, smiling widely.

James, Maya, and Julia, your younger siblings, looked up and smiled widely.

"Y/nnnn!" Maya yelled, getting up and hugging you tightly. "Woah! Hey, hi baby." You say, smiling into her head.

Maya was the youngest, at 11 years old. She was the peacemaker, no matter how demanding, she probably had the best communication skills out of everyone. Which is saying something, she's 11.

"Alright, alright, save some for us." You look up and see your youngest brother, James, standing next to Julia, waiting their turn for a hug.

You let go of Maya and walk over to the 15 year old twins and embrace them tightly. God, how you missed them. This hug was shorter, only because your mother spoke up.

"Well, finally! What took you guys so long?" She asked, rolling her eyes. You break the hug, sighing heavily.

"Hi, mom. I'm happy to see you, too. Uh, this is Chris and his triplet brothers, Matt and Nick." You say, lifting your hand, gesturing towards the three men.

You smile as your siblings exchange greetings with the triplets, just as Peter did, happy that they were in a good mood. You turn back to your mom, who has a strange look on her face.

"What?" You ask, confused, sitting down on the couch next to her. "I thought you were only bringing your boyfriend? Or are you dating all three?"

Your eyes shoot to hers, a look of disgust covering your face. "What-Mom, no! Matt's talking to someone and Nick..." You cut yourself off, debating whether or not telling you mom about Nick's sexuality. It's not that your mom was homophobic, she just wasn't exactly open to it. You knew that if you told her, she'd figure out a way to make an untimely and out of pocket comment about it.

"Nick...?" Your mom gestures you to continue speaking.

You open your mouth to speak, but you hear the front door open. Oh shit. The party has started.

"Dad's here!" Maya shouts, running to the door. Chris sat down on the couch next to you, Matt and Nick next to him.

You notice Nick talking to Julia about her favorite music artists, and it looks like their having a good time. Peter and Matt seem to be getting along, while Chris and James talk about the most recent Celtics game.

Despite all the calm conversations going on around you, you can't help but feel nervous. Your dad's here, which puts everyone, at least on your side, on high alert, making sure they tiptoe on their words.

Chris notices you tense up and place his hand on your thigh, which you reach and squeeze his hand, not for his sake, but for yours.

Your dad walks in and freezes for a moment. It was a long moment, long enough for everyone to notice his presence and get silent. You and him stare at each other, not breaking eye contact for a minute.

Finally, after the deafening silence, you decide to speak. "Hey, dad." You breathe.

His shocked face turns into a soft smile. "Hey, kiddo, c'mere." You smile softly, cherishing the peace while it lasts. You stand up and walk over to your dad and embrace him. You knew what he was capable of, but you also knew how much he loved you and your siblings.

You could be mad at him all you wanted, but he's still your dad. "I missed you, y/n." He mutters into your head. You smile into his chest because as much as you hated to admit it, you missed him too. When he wasn't drunk or being an ass, he was a pretty awesome person.

You pull away, and he kisses your cheek before gesturing to the audience behind you. "And who are these fine gentlemen?" He asked.

You smiled. "That one's Chris, my boyfriend, and those are his triplet brothers, Nick and Matt." You say, gesturing to the boys, who wave as their introduced.

"Nice to meet you all, especially you, Chris." He smiles sarcastically. Here we go.

Suddenly, his demeanor changed. His shoulders tensed, and his fist clenched. You look at him curiously and wonder what flipped the switch, what pissed him off this time.

Chris smiles kindly. "Nice to meet you, too, sir."

Your dad nods before glancing at you and looking up again. "Dinner should be ready. How's everyone feel about spaghetti?" He clapsed his hands together.

He earns a collective 'yes' from everyone before picking up Maya in his arms and carrying her to the kitchen. Everyone stands up and begins to follow, except for you and Chris. He grabs your hand and pulls you closer to him.

"You okay, ma?" He asked. He must've noticed your demeanor change from happy and cheery to suspicious and confusion.

You nod your head hesitantly, still thinking about how quickly your father changed his mind about being kind. "Uh... yeah, yeah, I'm okay." You say softly.

He looks at you curiously. "Are you sure?" You nod again. "Yeah, let's go eat."

____

Quiet chatter amongst the families began at the dinner table, after everybody had gotten food. You noticed your anxiety seemingly grow stronger as the dinner continued. Nothing had happened yet, and that's what scared you.

Your leg bounced under the table, and despite Chris's attempts to soothe you by rubbing your thigh, nothing seemed to work. Even Chris's touch seemed to be too much, too overwhelming.

You feel your breathing catch in your throat, and suddenly, the gentle chatter becomes too overwhelming. The scraping of the forks echoed loudly in your ears as your hands started to sweat.

You stand up abruptly, catching the attention of all three triplets and James.

"Excuse me." You muttered before rushing to the bathroom and closing the door.

You curl into a ball, breathing heavily as tears fall from your eyes. You weren't having a panic attack yet, but if you didn't get your breathing in check, you'd get one soon.

You list off things in your head, things that make you happy. Sunshine, Chris, dogs in clothes, Chris, Sour Patch Kids, Chris

Speaking of which, you hear the door open, and you force yourself to look up, seeing your loving boyfriend. He got down on your level, taking your hand and putting it on his chest.

You catch on quickly, taking breaths that match his, well, kinda. Yours are shakier, but you're getting there. "It's okay, baby, you're okay. Shhh.." Chris whispers, his other hand rubbing your back.

You sigh as you finally take a deep breath of air, leaning your head against Chris's shoulder as he hands rub shapes on your back.

"It's okay, baby, you're stressing yourself out. It'll be okay." He whispers as he stands up and pulls you up with him.

He embraces you once again as you sniffle into his hoodie. You pull back and wipe your face aggressively, laughing quietly.

Chris cups your face, wiping your tears before pressing a kiss so soft, it was almost ghostlike, on your lips. You smile at him.

"Thank you, baby." You say rubbing his bicep in appreciation. He smiles down at you, kissing your forehead. "Of course, baby. I love you. Are you ready?"

You nod, and Chris opens the door, hand in yours as you all walk back into the dining room. Most conversations continued, but you noticed your dad and mom talking quietly amongst themselves, and it didn't look pleasant.

Your dad's eyes shoot to yours as he chuckles darkly.

Fuck. This can't end well.

"And what the fuck were you two doing?"

You smile, trying to swallow your fear. You notice Chris squeeze your hand, and you squeezed back in reassurance.

"Just had to take a breather. It's all good now, though, don't worry." You say as you and Chris sit down. You hope it's enough to satisfy your dad's curiosity, but unfortunately it's not.

"So you and him didn't just fuck in the bathroom." You freeze. Every conversation stops immediately at those words, as he wasn't quiet about it.

"What- dad, no. Why would you say that?" You sputter as a pink hue comes over your face. You glance at Chris, who's just as shocked as you.

"Sir, I'd never do that, especially here." Chris says calmly, but you can tell that one comment pissed him off completely.

Your dad stares at you both as a silence covers the room like a weighted blanket. Just when the tension seems to reach its peak, your dad speaks up.

"Good. Now, let's eat." He says, passing the food to you.

Jesus, this is gonna be a long night.

______________________________

Part 2 is coming soon.

@sturnioloblogs @y0urm4m @sturniolosmind @thenickgirl @muwapsturniolo @matthewsmocktailss-deactivated2 @breeloveschris @worldlxvlys @freshloveforthefit @miloisdone1 @vanteguccir @annamcdonalds67 @freshsturns @rootbeerworshiper @matty-bear @orangelala

#nick sturniolo #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo triplets x reader #chris sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo fluff

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jinjeriffic · 1 year ago

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DC x DP prompt/ficlet

Throwing my hat in the ring with this idea that has been doing the zoomies in my brain for days. The Tim/Danny Accidental Ghost Marriage to Fake Dating to Friends to Lovers AU:

Pariah Dark was a piece of shit. Before his imprisonment, mortals would sometimes manage to bargain with the Ghost King for scraps of power. One of the "standard" deals was to send PD a "Bride" to play with and feed on (because I HC he feeds on fear and pain) and what better way than a little mortal battery that couldn't get away from him? The deal was sealed with a cursed amulet. Now in one instance, the contract was never fulfilled (maybe the petitioner died before he could complete his half) and the amulet was lost. After Pariah was imprisoned and couldn't make deals anymore the knowledge of the rituals needed was gradually forgotten since they didn't work anymore...

Eventually the amulet gets dug up by archeologists (maybe in Egypt or Mesopotamia?) and ends up in a traveling exhibit in Gotham. A Rogue robs the place (Riddler? Two-Face? doesn't really matter). When the Bats show up to foil the robbery, during the fight with the goons a drop of Red Robin's blood gets on the amulet, there's a blinding flash of green light and the amulet is suddenly glued to him.

While everyone is dazed by the ghostly magic flashbang, Fright Knight pops out of a portal, yoinks Red Robin across his saddle and jumps back through the portal before anyone can stop him. Cue the Bats trying to frantically figure out what in the multi-dimensional occult hell happened and where RR went?!

Meanwhile, Danny is disturbed to receive a ghostly missive in his college dorm to tell him that his Mail Order Bride has been delivered to his Ghost Zone Palace and is awaiting him so they can consummate their Unholy Matrimony.

----------------

Danny: Wtf I have to study I don't have time to get MARRIED

Fright Knight: I'm sorry my liege, but according to the laws of ghosts, gods and magic you already ARE

Danny: Wtf. How did this happen?

RR: I would like to know that too

Danny: Oh shit, you're a superhero. Frighty, you can't just kidnap people! Especially not SUPERHEROES!

RR: While that's good to hear, I would really like to know about this supposed marriage..?

FK: I am not aware of the exact details, I was merely summoned to retrieve the Bride of the Ghost King. There used to be standard magical contracts for this, which went into effect when the Bride bled on the King's Token...

RR: Shit

Danny: Hold on, PARIAH got married? Multiple times??

FK: ...but we can always consult the Royal Archivist, if we can dig him out from under the several thousand years worth of paperwork that piled up while there was no King actively ruling...

Danny: Oh ancients, am I gonna have to deal with that?? I have exams to prepare for, dude!

RR: ...the dead still have to do exams? And paperwork?? *horror*

-------------

Some time and explanations later...

Royal Archivist: It took some digging, but I believe I have found the contract in question. You are one Timothy Drake-Wayne, correct?

Tim: Fml

RA: Ahem. The contract was sealed with your mortal blood, as is standard procedure. Congratulations, you are officially King-Consort of the Infinite Realms! Until death do you part, and all that

Danny: Can I see that contract? ...This isn't in English

RA: Oh dear, looks like we will have to schedule your Royal Highness classes in reading cuneiform/hieroglyphics

Tim: Okay, does it say anywhere in that contract how to dissolve it? What's the procedure for a ghost divorce? Fright Knight mentioned the previous king being married multiple times

RA: Well usually, when Pariah tired of a consort he would simply devour their soul...

Danny: Ewwwww I am so not doing that

Tim: I concur. I can't imagine my soul would taste good anyway

Danny: That's what you took from that??

RA: ...but when you die and your soul passes into the Afterlife proper, the contract will be fulfilled. As long as you're not resurrected again.

Tim: Nuts, there goes that loophole

RA: Until then you are the Consort and duty-bound to fulfill his Royal Highness' every whim; ghostly, spiritual, carnal...

Danny: *sinks through the floor in embarrassment*

Tim: Can't he just... release me from the contract? Take the amulet off me or something?

RA: Not without obliterating your soul, no

Danny and Tim: Fuck

--------------

Some time later, while Danny is away consulting other ghosts on possible ways of dissolving the contract, they discover the nasty little clause that if Tim isn't in regular physical contact with Danny the amulet starts draining his life force. To prevent victims from escaping you see... Danny really really hates Pariah right now.

They eventually return to the mortal plane to explain to the Batfam what the hell is going on and that they're still trying to fix it. In the meantime, Danny can't miss any more classes (studying areospace engineering at MIT or sth) and Tim has to stick close to him because of the curse...

Alfred: Oh dear, looks like Master Timothy will have to go to college after all *unflappable British Smugness*

Bruce pulls a lot of strings to fast track Tim getting his high school diploma and let him attend classes with Danny (he's not officially enrolled yet, but Money, Dear Boy). They never know when Danny has to respond to a ghost emergency or Red Robin to a Bat emergency, so they stay pretty much joined at the hip in their civilian lives. Of course there's gonna be rumors. Why did the Wayne CEO suddenly drop everything to go to college? So they make up a story about Danny and Tim having been secret boyfriends for a while and Tim becoming so smitten that he moves with him to Boston...

Cue the fake dates, interviews with magazines, couple photoshoots to really sell the bit... and the two young men gradually becoming friends... and then "Feelings?? But what do I do?? He was forced into this?" etc.

#dcxdp #dpxdc #dp x dc #dc x dp #dc x dp crossover #dc x dp prompt #danny phantom #tim drake #red robin #danny fenton #ficlet #batman #batfam #accidental marriage #arranged marriage

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kithtaehyung · 10 months ago

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would u? (3tan717) | myg

3tan717 drabble #1: would u? pairing: 3tan!yoongi x reader(f) series: masterlist | three tangerines | 3tan717 rating/genre: pg (18+) ; fluff ; brother’s best friend au, implied age gap au summary: you see a certain fruit-centered trend online.. and decide to test it on yoongi note: i am so so so sorry this is out on the very last day of feb but things have been absolute bananas lately! tbh i’m surprised this is even getting posted on time and i have even more to do after this is shared but eff it shibal!!! note 2: as promised, this is dedicated to the people that submitted the answers i’m using for this drabble: anon, grapes / @yoongrace, and apryl @aprylynn for this idea hehehe! also i literally just finished this so it's legit unedited so i'm sry for any mistakes! off to go prep for events now! warnings: 3tan yoongi as always, working yoongi??, kitchen, period cramps suck but yoongi to the mf rescue drop date: feb 29th, 2024, 10:03pm est word count: 2.3k

Ugh.

Why does this have to happen every fucking month. Why can’t it happen every three? Or six? Or never ever ever?

Groaning, you roll over, burying your face into the pillow on Yoongi’s side.

To some degree, you feel placated, probably due to his scent still lingering next to your dismay. He had to get up early to finish a track, but he assured you can be in the room.

You can hear a little bit of what he’s working on as it bleeds through his headphones, and even just this sliver of sound gives you chills. Not just because of what it sounds like, but the sole fact that Yoongi’s letting you even listen in the first place.

Huffing out a bit of amusement, you remember the last time Yoongi let you stay while he worked—albeit at his place while he went to the studio.

Damn, how much you’ve grown since then. All those memories, those quiet times and tumultuous times, everything leading up to now. How time has molded you with knowing hands.

However, no matter how much has changed all these months, some things have not wavered, like the fact that you needed to be sure he was okay with it—and his answer making you absurdly shy.

Did he really have to say that you’re either staying or he’s gonna leave? That scheming motherfucker!

Some drum beats hit your cheek before you realize the menace himself is playing multiple different ones. It’s only a couple hits before he moves onto the next, and you’re about to lift your hea—

“Fuck, where the hell is that kick?”

Your laugh is stifled by cotton. As tickled as you are to hear Yoongi like this, you don’t wanna do anything to distract him.

But by doing so, that causes your body to tighten and fuck, it hurts. It hurts to move, it hurts to laugh, it hurts to just exist. God, you want him to come back and join you so bad, but you don’t wanna be that person.

…Yet. Maybe if it gets so bad you can’t even sleep?

“Found you! Fucking finally. Thought you could hide from me, huh?”

Oh, fucking hell, he’s adorable.

Yeah, there’s no way you’re making him drop everything right now. This is too precious of an afternoon to stop.

Exhaling a mile long breath, you fight through your pain and feel for your phone, groaning as you shift yourself. When in position under sheets and warm sunlight, you cycle through apps as a distraction.

Scrolling. Scrolling. Smiling at some animal videos a bit before scrolling again.

After all of five minutes, you start to see a trend on your feed, and suddenly get the idea to try it on Yoongi. It’s simple and harmless, right?

You [3:30pm]: would u peel an orange for me

Yoongi doesn’t say anything, and you lift your head slightly to see if he looks at his phone.

When he does, he checks it really quick before setting it back down on his desk, back to clicking on his screen.

Ah. Damn. He must really be in the zone because…

Uhh.

Blinking, you watch as Yoongi rolls his chair out to get up, setting his glasses down and heading out of the room with a light swing of his chains.

Uh. What just happened? Did you upset him? You’re so stunned that his swift exit has you wanting to get up and follow him.

But ow. Ouch. It’s maddening how much your cramps are getting to you.

Bearing the punches to your gut, you start sliding out of the bed, straining and sucking in sharp breaths just to stand and pull Yoongi’s comforter over your tension.

Padding out the bedroom, your worries make your steps tiny and heavy, and you regret sending that text because you literally just said you weren’t… gonna…

On the dining table—quiet—lie three tangerines, peeled and placed next to vibrant scraps while your lover peels a fourth with diligent, devoted hands.

And you can’t even form words that match how you feel.

Your vision swims right as Yoongi looks your way, his body stilling before he puts the fruit down.

When he approaches with concern, you answer his silent questions through hiccups, “I—I thought you left cus—you were mad.”

“Huh?”

“I don’t even know,” you swallow, gesturing to all of your lower half and feeling him hold the slipping blanket. “It’s just… this, I guess.”

“Does it hurt?”

“Like a motherfucker.”

“Oh, shit, I’m sorry, doll. Hold up.” Handing you the comforter, Yoongi goes to his cabinets in the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of medicine before walking it over. “You gotta take something as soon as you feel it. Don’t let it get this bad.”

“I know,” you groan, resting your head on his shirt and inhaling his healing presence. “I didn’t wanna bother you.”

Your forehead is kissed. “You’re not bothering me. Especially with something like this.”

“Okay.”

He walks away again to grab some water, and you watch as he pours some into an electric kettle before starting it up.

Glancing back at the fruit, you sigh, clutching the bottle of pills while feeling the weight of his comforter. He’s probably not pleased with the way it might drag on the ground, so you gather it and pick the end chair to sit on.

And then you sigh, “Sorry for making you peel those. I didn’t even plan on eating anything.”

“Too bad. You’re gonna eat what I make you anyway.”

Wait, he’s cooking? He has work to do! “You’re working, though. Don’t worry about me right now.”

“It’ll be quick.”

“What are you making?”

A glass bowl and pan are procured from random places before Yoongi blinks in place. “Uhh.. You’ll see.”

As he clunks them onto his counter and stove, you watch with hearts for eyes as he bustles around the kitchen space. Even doing things as simple as washing his hands, opening his fridge, and simply grabbing a knife gives you pause.

And this is when you realize that you can watch Yoongi do absolutely anything and be amazed.

Even when he stands, watching you with a look that’s wait why doesn’t he look—

“Take the medicine, baby girl.”

Oh.

Snapping out of your trance, you nod. “Sorry.”

Yoongi continues to give you glances until you swallow down the painkillers, satisfied enough to continue his cooking venture when you take the second one.

As the sun paints the apartment in marigold and light, you keep watching with a smile as he brings the kitchen to life. Butter sizzles in a pan, tangerines are getting halved on a board, and something is getting mixed with a whisk.

Who knew that the neighborhood fuckboy would have a whisk on hand? Not the younger you, that’s for damn sure.

But here Yoongi is, in the flesh, whisking away with veiny forearms that have you thinking the most absurd thoughts during this time of the month. The only thing that would cut through the raging horniness would be getting up to see what the hell he’s making.

It’s starting to smell familiar though. But he put the tangerines in the pan so you don’t even know what to expect right now.

Walking up—blanket left behind—you observe the kitchen before peering over his broad shoulder. “Mm.. Smells like pancakes.”

Yoongi doesn’t answer, but when you see the consistency of the batter, you realize you’re correct. “Oh, it is! I’m smart.”

“You are,” he laughs. “But you didn’t get it all the way right.”

“No?”

“Nope.” Yoongi then gently gets you to move before he pours the batter over the slices, and you crane your neck to watch as he evens it all out. “Just one tangerine pancake.”

“Oh, okay,” you scoff, earning a laugh at your side. “Whatever, chef.”

“We’ll see what you say in a bit.”

Is he gonna leave it or flip it? Probably the latter.

“K. Gonna flip that once it’s done.”

Nice. You smile to yourself, loving how you’re starting to really be on the same page. Nudging him, you keep watching as he lowers the heat and sets the lid on the pan. “What now?”

“We wait,” he responds, dusting his hands together before cleaning up his mixing bowl. “And I’m gonna see if we have any sugar.”

Damn it, Yoongi cannot keep saying that two-letter word. It’s starting to be detrimental to your health. “I can help.”

“S’ok,” he assures, nose upturned. “Just watch me work.”

“Oh, I’m very good at doing that.”

At this, Yoongi turns and gives you a smile that immediately reminds you of summer, and you almost feel like crying again.

“I’ve actually never tried this, but. We’ll see if this works.”

With nothing snarky, or teasing, or fake to say, you reply with a smile and a genuine, “I’m sure it will.”

When he keeps staring, his eyes lower to your lips, and you don’t care that you probably look like a wreck, or feel like one. Because the way he’s looking at you now makes you glow.

If only the kettle didn’t decide this was the moment to stop boiling.

You were probably about to get the kiss of your life.

But Yoongi halts in his tracks before shifting to get a mug, setting it down with a thud before checking on the pancakes. Pancake. Whatever that delicious-smelling thing is gonna be.

“There’s some tea packets in that right drawer. Help yourself cus I’d rather you pick.”

Chuckling, you oblige before scooting over. After seeing a small jar of granules on the counter, you start rummaging through the drawer, exploring the various options while hearing the sound of a plate behind you.

Ah, Yoongi’s flipping it.

As you turn, you’re just in time to watch the muscles in his back protrude through his shirt as he flips the pan, impressed as he sets the plate down because holy hell that looks great.

“Sugar, sugar, sugar… Suga, suga, suga.”

Laughing, you interrupt his silly search as you grab the jar you just saw. “Suga suga, how you get so fly?”

Yoongi stops to see what’s in your hand, and he huffs through a grin before grabbing it. “Thanks, doll.”

You keep humming the song that’s now wedged into your head as you watch him sprinkle bits on the pancake.

“I don’t have a blowtorch,” he admits, “But I do have this.”

Rolling out a drawer, Yoongi takes out a long lighter before holding it to the sugary top, humming the same song you were just singing without even knowing it. As the sugar slowly but surely heats, you both keep humming and basking in a calm afternoon.

And you don’t even feel the pain anymore.

“Go ahead and sit, babe.”

“You sure?”

“Uh huh.”

Following instructions, you make your way to the table, cocooning yourself in his comforter again as you await the cutest meal you’ve had in weeks. Months. Lifetimes.

Speaking of lifetimes… You hope every version of you meets every version of him. No matter when. No matter where. Because you want every version of yourself to find happiness, and Yoongi has been the one to help you finally find it.

And he certainly passed whatever the hell this orange theory thing was supposed to be.

Plates are set down to break you out of introspection, and you glance up with eyes sparkling.

When Yoongi raises a brow, you just smile. When he asks what’s gotten into you, a chuckle escapes before you shake your head,

“Nothing, baby. Just didn’t expect all this from that text.”

As he plops into the next chair, you love the way the sun settles on his skin. Highlights his hair. Shimmers in his eyes.

“Don’t even need to ask, babe.” He captures your attention with a calm look. “I was waiting for any distractions anyways.”

So this was for him, too? Good.

Grabbing your fork, you giggle. “Sounded like you were having a little trouble over there.”

“I was! This is what I get for not saving my shit.”

Both of you sit back in laugher as you throw your hands out. “Do that!”

“I’m lazy!”

“Tough shit!”

“I know!”

Grinning, you loll your head before waving your fork out. “You’re gonna save those sounds, and you’re gonna remember this day and thank me.”

Yoongi just tightens his lips in a smile, eyes creased and glimmering. “Maybe.”

“Yes. I’ll stand there and watch you until you do it.”

"Really.."

For the rest of the afternoon—with full bellies and clear minds—you rest on the edge of Yoongi’s bed, forcing him to find the files he needs and watching him groan his way through saving everything.

Constantly laughing at the ridiculously random names he’s assigning them.

When he’s done, you watch as he spins around in his chair, heart thumping with anticipation as you’re met with a waiting pair of eyes.

Breathtaking.

When he leans in, you feel incredibly shy. Always, always, always. This will forever remain the same.

And—just as well—Yoongi's kisses will forever taste like tangerines.

Three of them, to be exact.

fin. :)

how did the first 717 drabble go! | join the discord hehe

a/n: nothing much to say other than i love y'all so much! i will try responding to anything when i can (there's literally still all the 3tan12 feedback to get to) but i do read all the commentary sent in and it keeps me going strong :'))) so thank you again for being here and being amazingly patient with me. off to work on more things but i shall be back once the wild weeks are over!

a/n 2: suga suga how you get so flyyyy hahaha

#ahhhh here we go!#3tan717d1 #3tan717 #bts fic #bts imagines #*ryenfictalk #bts reactions #bts fanfic #yoongi fic #yoongi fanfic #three tangerines #yoongi fluff #yoongi x you #yoongi x reader #*latest #ryenwrites #bts fluff

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jadeylovesmarvelxo · 2 months ago

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Sweet Little Lies

Could you please do an Eddie x reader where Eddie and reader are a couple, but Jason and the cheerleaders bet that they can drive a wedge between them or break them up if a cheerleader hits on Eddie. He doesn't go for it, but the cheerleaders tells reader he did, but it clears up and ends happily?

Request by @somethingvicked ❤️

Mdni. 18+.

Angst with a happy ending 💕

❤️

As usual at the cheerleader/basketball table talk had turned to one of Jason Carver's favourite topics. Eddie Munson.

He was pissed that Eddie had yet again managed to get one up on him and scared the shit out of him during class. Emma was immediately soothing and was thinking up ideas to get back at Eddie for him.

"He's such a freak, we should try and break them up or something. It would serve Eddie right for being such a shit to you" Emma smirks and bats her eyes prettily to Jason who lights up. Chrissy shakes her head in irritation.

"You should leave them both alone. They've done nothing to you" she gives Chloe and Jason a look full of disappointment and leaves the table.

"Ugh, spoilsport. Don't mind what she says, so what do you think? I bet you that I could split them up" Emma asks him and Jason is all for it and they both banter back and forth about what to do. Finally Emma looks triumphant.

"I'll flirt with him and pretend he was flirting back, he probably will though. I mean he's not going to turn me down is he?" She replies confidently, not that she relishes the thought of flirting with Eddie the Freak Munson but if it gets her closer to Jason then she's all for it.

"You're on" they shake hands and both eagerly begin to discuss their plan.

❤️

He's confused when one of the cheerleaders walks up to him, she's all flirty smiles and shit. He's sure she's the one who always bitches behind Chrissy's back and flirts with Jason (Gareth is seriously invested in the drama of it all)

"Oh hey handsome, you're just the person I was looking for" she giggles as she runs a hand up his arm. He promptly steps back suspicious. What the fuck?

"Why are you talking to me?" a brief look of irritation flickers on her face then she smiles, "Oh because I think you're so cute. I've just always been too shy to say" she twirls her hair around her fingers and Eddie sighs.

Once upon a time he'd pinch himself that some pretty cheerleader was flirting with him but now? Now he has you and you're more perfect than any popular girl or any girl in his eyes.

"Right. Well I'm gonna just go" she side steps him before he can leave and still continues her flirting attempts.

"Maybe you and I can talk somewhere private?" She looks at him with a seductive look. Or he thinks that's what it is.

He rolls his eyes and ignores Emily? Emma, whatever her name is. He's not interested in whatever she has to say and finally she gets distracted enough that he makes his exit.

Unfortunately Emma finds him again and is all cutesy and laughs like a hyena at what he's saying (he's trying to get away, not make jokes) but she seems to find him hilarious and he practically high tails it out of her reach.

What a weird fucking day.

❤️

You're trying to cram in some study for your English exam in the library when you're accosted by two of the girls on the cheer team. Both have identical sad looks on their faces.

"Um hi?" what the hell? You've never spoken to these girls in your life.

"Hi I'm Emma. You're dating the fre... You're dating Eddie Munson right?" You nod unsure where she's going with this.

"Yes" she looks solemn and pats your shoulder, what the... Were you in the twilight zone or something?

"Oh honey. I don't know how to say this but he was totally flirting with me yesterday. Like all over me flirting" you're so shocked about what she's saying that you drop your book with a loud thump. What!!

"Eddie wouldn't...I don't know why you're making shit up but..." Emma looks sympathetic but you feel like she's mocking you somehow.

"I know it's hard to believe but he was totally flirting with me. Stacey was there she will tell you" Emma replies smugly and you feel a pit in your stomach. That can't be true? Can it? Eddie wouldn't do that to you but her friend is nodding along with what she says.

No...

Emma sounds so serious and it's making you question things. She smirks smugly at you, "I mean why wouldn't he flirt with me. Sorry to be the one to break the news to you" she doesn't sound sorry at all and smirks as she walks away leaving you with a sinking heart.

❤️

It's been a hell of a day and Eddie just wants to find you and cuddle with his girl. Bad enough with that cheerleader flirting with him yesterday, now today Jason was making weird loaded comments that Eddie doesn't get.

He spots you at your locker and the stress he's feeling lightens. Until he catches the look on your face, you've been crying and when you look at him you're practically burning holes through him.

Eddie is confused why you're so cold. "Princess what's wrong?" you glare at him and he steps back stunned.

"What's wrong? Why don't you ask that pretty cheerleader who you were all over yesterday?" You snap at him and he's seriously confused now. Do you mean that Emma chick? He spent half his time trying to run away from her.

"What?" you wipe your eyes that are full of tears and look up at him heartbroken, that look tears his own heart in two.

"Emma told me and her friend Stacy, why would they say that if it wasn't true?" You murmur sadly but a little bit confused. Eddie gently cups your cheek and you move away still feeling sick to your stomach.

Eddie's face pains and he desperately tries to get you to believe him. "Sweetheart, I'd never ever do that. You're all I want. I don't know what the fuck is going on but I'd never ever do any of that shit to you. I wouldn't cheat either, you know that" he looks so sincere and earnest.

You don't get what's going on either but it's begging to piss you off. It's then you spy Emma and Jason watching you and Eddie arguing with smug smiles and something clicks into place and you realise this must be some stupid plan of theirs.

"What a load of shit. I knew she was being a fake" you seethe and Eddie follows your gaze to Emma and Jason watching the two of you with those stupid grins on their faces, his eyes narrow which wipes the smiles of their faces.

"Should have guessed that the asshole was involved too" you cuddle into Eddie and he presses a kiss to your forehead.

"I'm sorry, she was so convincing Eddie" he soothingly rubs your back as you apologise for believing her.

"It's okay princess. Fuck those guys, why don't you go ahead and get a seat for lunch yeah? I gotta track down Dustin, he's helping paint some figures for the campaign" you nod still pissed and throw a fierce glare Emma and Jason's way.

Once you're out of sight Eddie turns in that direction and walks over to the pair of them. Jason is all arrogance even if he does look a tiny bit worried, Emma is resolutely looking anywhere but him.

"Aww Munson. Trouble in paradise?" Jason teases but pales when Eddie steps closer to him seething.

"No thanks to you two dickheads, I'm warning you both, leave my girl out of your stupid schemes. Your stupid plan didn't work so count your blessings otherwise I would have been super pissed" He leaves Jason looking like he might piss himself and Emma babbling to him muttering freak and other shit.

Yeah, no one messed with you.

❤️

After Eddie's warning lunch was a little bit different, Jason was suspiciously quiet as Chrissy wasn't speaking to Jason who wasn't speaking to Emma so all was not well at that table.

Safe to say the plan had spectacularly failed as you and Eddie were happier and more in love than ever.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson angst #eddie munson

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amphibiahawks321 · 2 months ago

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So how about some more Black lagoon stuff with Balalaika and Revy(seperate),just having a boyfriend who just straight up an energetic and affectionate person. He just seems like he shouldn't be in roanapur, much less dating someone like Revy or balalaika, but he is despite being the opposite personality wise.

[in balalaika's office, she's focusing on a map of roanapur, planning a large operation–only for Y/N to bursts inside her office]

M!Reader : Sofiyaa! guess who brought you luuuunch!✨ Figured you needed a break considering you're soooooo underslept!

[Balalaika starts smirking, her eyes start focusing on Y/N Infront of her]

Balalaika : You know you're walking into a war zone don't you dear~? I don't really have much time for a lunch break...

[Her eyes now softened by Y/N's kind gesture]

M!Reader : A war zone? Sounds fun! And things won't be out of control because you're always the one control the operations Sofi!

[Balalaika starts calming down by Y/N's sweet words]

Balalaika : Sighs... Guess you're right sweetheart.... I don't wanna overworked myself too much, if that happened how will i spoil my sweetheart rotten?~

M!Reader : Aww, you know you've given me enough dear!

Balalaika : I know, that's what makes it so much fun~

M!Reader blushing : even overworked you still have the energy to flirt...

[Y/N placed the food down onto her desk which she happily starts eating it, balalaika stares Infront of her to see Y/N excitedly waiting for her comment]

Balalaika : Chuckles... Finally some good food...

[Balalaika says trying to make it look like she's saying it casually so that Y/N would be more happy she's enjoying it (which he did)]

Balalaika : You know, I still can't believe the idea someone so thoughtful and affectionate such as yourself could even be in roanapur my dear

M!Reader : energetic is my middle name baby!

Balalaika : I'm wouldn't be surprised if that's true~♡...... Hmm......

M!Reader : Hm? Something wrong? Oh no... DID I PUT TOO MUCH–

Balalaika : No no, it's nothing dear, I actually just thought of a way you help me relax love

[Y/N gasp dramatically and puts down his hands on balalaika's desk with determination]

M!Reader : What is it!?✨

[A couple of minutes later, Balalaika is still eating her meal but now with Y/N sitting on her lap]

M!Reader blushing : ......

[Balalaika chuckles and she gave Y/N a kiss on his neck]

[Revy outside a bar leaning against a wall, cigarette between her lips looking tough like usual, Y/N shows up in high spirits like usual]

[Y/N walks up to revy and joyfully hugs her making revy shocked but she's basically used to it at this point]

M!Reader : Revy! I miss you so much!

Revy : Yeah yeah, cut the affectionate crap I miss you too...

M!Reader : Since we're off today I was thinking we could do something fun today!

Revy : .....

[Revy starts staring at Y/N like you've lost your mind]

Revy : Fun? You think Hanging out in this shithole is fun?

M!Reader : Come on don't be like that! You're too awesome to be looking grumpy today! Come on just you, me having fun! Trust me it'll be fun!✨

[Revy about to refuse immediately but she sees Y/N genuinely excited to hang out with her....]

[Revy thought 💭]

Fuuck those eyes...

Revy : Sighs... You're absolutely batshit crazy you know that?

M!Reader : Nope! I just wish to see you smile more today!

Revy : .......

[Revy softened a bit by Y/N's dumb yet sweet comment]

[Revy thought 💭]

T-This asshole...

Revy : Sighs... Fine fine let's go, not like I was gonna do anything today anyway, just don't get yourself killed, okay?

M!Reader : With you around? Never!–.....

[Y/N felt revy's hand intertwining and locking itself with Y/N's hand]

M!Reader blushing : ......

Revy : What? Can't I hold my man's hand or some shit? Don't get it through your head too hard hyper boy....

#male reader #black lagoon x reader #reader x black lagoon #reader x balalaika #balalaika x reader #balalaika #revy x reader #reader x revy #revy #black lagoon revy #black lagoon balalaika

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sturncrazy · 9 months ago

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STUCK🔥

part 1

matt sturniolo x fem reader (no use of y/n)

(anyone else is green )

warnings: SMUT 18+ (part two will be major smut this is the warm up🫣)

summary: you and your friend matt are arguing while coming back from a event and are faced with heightened tensions when the elevator of the hotel gets stuck…

authors note: i was INSPIRED by the sam & colby colab i had IDEAS. so this is gonna be a 2 part!! and guys just roll w me — let’s pretend matt wouldn’t be in fetal position crying if an elevator fr got stuck.

word count: 2,060

—————————————————————————

you fussed with the back of your dress desperately trying to reach for its zipper. bodycon dresses like this should’ve been used for torture. finally giving up on completing the task alone, you banged on the door to the adjoining room.

your best friend matt had asked you to be his plus one to a party for one of the various influencer acquaintances of him and his brothers. chris and nick had other plans for the night, and there was no way matt would ever go to any social event alone. so he’d asked you to join. plus he knew you’d love getting all dressed up and even getting to spend the night at a nice hotel covered by the party host.

“WHAT?” shouted matt from the other side of the door

“MAAAATTT i can’t get my dress zipped! help!” you whined back continuing to pound your fist against the frame.

“Okay—just a second”

you jiggled the door handle, impatiently. it swung open to a flustered half ready matt. his soft brown locks were tousled in front of his eyes. he was wearing a white button up, but had only managed to button a couple of the lower ones in his rushed state, exposing his lean and muscular chest. your eyes haphazardly glanced down.

“going for a new slutty look?” you mocked

“oh shut up. you have the patience of a two year old” he shot back as he buttoned the rest of his shirt. you snorted.

“well” he said raising his eyebrows at you

“turn around”

you spun your back to him as his fingers snapped up your zipper.

“thank youuu” you said turning around with a smile. matt’s gaze trailed down from your face and over your figure that was hugged tightly by the black sparkly fabric that stopped only inches below your waist.

“what?” you laughed, confused by his quietness.

“oh-uh-nothing-“ he stuttered, turning away to grab his tie

“am i dressed wrong?”

“no-no you-you look really great” he said with a half smile.

“cmon let’s head out i’ll call us a car”

the party was loud and ridiculously flashy. Matt mingled with people he knew while you stuck a few feet behind. most of the people at events like this had no interest in talking to a no one like you. over an hour had passed and you were just about to ask matt when was a socially acceptable time to head out when you felt someone tap your shoulder. you turned around to see a tall man smiling down at you.

“so why did no one tell me about the competition to bring the prettiest date?” he asked

“the—what?” you stuttered

“i’m joking! but whoever brought you tonight would’ve won”

“oh—thank you?” you felt your cheeks flush slightly

“so who did?” he questioned with a smirk

“i’m sorry?”

“bring you here tonight? who’s your date”

“oh! oh matt did! but not date im just his friend” you nervously giggled

“so what im hearing is your not spoken for?” you had to admit this man was charming and the first interesting thing since being at this party, so you figured what was the harm in entertaining him. as you continued to make flirtatious small talk you felt eyes on you. you whipped around to see matt from a nearby corner staring at you, clearly paying no attention to the two girls talking at him. you gave him a smile, but his blank expression didn’t waiver. it struck you as weird, but you figured he was probably just zoning out.

about 45 minutes of flirting had quickly changed from fun to monotonous. you were preparing to excuse yourself to “go to the bathroom” when a tight grip latched onto your upper arm.

“I wanna leave” matt said flatly in your ear

“wha—oh okay” matt headed for the door, leaving you behind. you said a rushed goodbye and chased after him.

“matt—wait!” he stopped and turned to look at you.

“what the hell?” you said catching up

“didn’t know if you were coming. cars almost here”

matt’s jaw was visibly clenched in the dim lighting of the car. he stared straight ahead not speaking. it was only about a 6 minute drive to the hotel but it felt like a eternity. the hotel lobby was empty as it was past 2 in the morning.

“what’s wrong?” you finally asked as the elevator door shut behind the two of you.

“nothings wrong”

“bullshit. you’re acting weird”

“nope. guess i’m just tired” he said still refusing to look at you

“no i know you and you—“ you were cut off by the sound of your phone going off

“that your new friend from the party?” matt snarked

“my what? what are you talking about?”

“that guy who was all over you”

“guy—is that what’s making you act all weird?—“ suddenly the floor beneath you jolted. the elevator had stopped moving.

“you gotta be fucking kidding me” matt muttered

“did the elevator just break?”

“fucking perfect” he said with an exasperated laugh. you frantically began pressing the help button.

“Hello front desk—“

“Hi—yeah—um the elevator is stuck—“

“Hi ma’am—yes we’re aware—my apologies maintenance has been informed”

“How soon will they be here?”

“within a half hour—“

“A HALF HOUR?”

“I’m so sorry miss, we send the majority of staff home around midnight. were handling this best we can—“

“Okay. I understand. just please as soon as possible”

you backed up to lean against the wall where matt had already settled. silence again.

“well you’re stuck with me now” you attempted to joke

“yup” matt said coldly

“matt seriously? do you have a history with that guy or something”

“it’s not the guy thats my problem”

“oh so what? i’m the problem”

“i didn’t say that—“

“well you implied it—can you look at me?” you snapped. matt turned his face to you.

“i don’t like watching some guy all over you okay—”

“I had no idea that you cared about that sorta thing i mean girls are all over you—“

“of course I fucking care—“

“but why—“ your sentence was halted by matt’s right hand harshly grabbing your waist and his left hand holding onto your cheek, pulling your body flush to his and your faces only a sliver apart.

“because tell me you haven’t felt anything between us. and i’ll stop right now if you do and forget this ever happened. tell me you don’t feel anything for me right now.” he said in a gravely whisper, the warm air of his breath caressing your lips. your eyes flitted back and forth across his that starred hungrily at your lips, pupils blown. without thinking you smashed your lips against his, closing the little space left between you. matt froze for a second before passionately joining you in the kiss. his hand wrapped around to your back, pulling you impossibly closer to him as the other latched itself into your hair. your tongues began to entwine with one and other, battling for dominance. Matt pulled gently on your lower lip with his teeth, before unlocking his lips with yours. you stared up at him breathlessly, not wanting to have stopped. he smirked at the slightly helpless expression on your face before using his grip in your hair to tug your head back to expose your neck. he lowered his lips to give you a sloppy warm kiss on your delicate skin. you let out a soft sigh and matt took this moment of weakness as an opportunity to push you up against the back wall. he continued to pull and kiss at your neck and collar bone, his hands digging into the skin around your hips. heat had began to form between your legs and you let out an involuntary moan as matt bit down on your flesh. one of your legs wrapped around his. he inhaled sharply and looked back up at you.

“careful—you might start something you don’t mean to” he panted

“i know exactly what i wanna start” you whispered before pulling him by his tie back to your lips. you rolled your hips up against him.

“oh you’re in for it now” he groaned against your mouth, pressing his crotch against you. your dress had now pathetically rolled up almost to your hipbones. matt pressed his clothed bulge between your legs, creating friction against your now exposed thong. you were practically dripping at the feeling. his strong hands slid down to your bare ass cheeks and squeezed the plush flesh as he continued to grind himself against you. soft sounds of pleasure tumbled from your mouth.

“your moans are even sexier then i imagined” he huffed against your neck

“yeah? you like hearing me moan for you, matty?” you whispered, wrapping your arms around his neck

“just hearing you does something to me”

“what does it do to you?” you said innocently. he lifted his head to look you in the eye. he moved one of his hands from your ass on top of your own delicate smaller hand which he then guided down his own torso. the two of you panting like wild animals against each other at the insufferable tension as your hand got lower and lower.

“why don’t you find out for yourself” he whispered as your hand finally reached his covered crotch. your eyes still locked to his, you pressed your palm against his hard on. the feeling of his size alone sent tingles through your body. he moaned at the contact. you repeated the motion. his eyes rolled back into his head. watching him like this was addictive.

“fuck—feels so good—“ he sighed out

“been hard all night cause of you”

“you have?”

“second i saw you in that dress all i could think about was fucking you”

“you thought about fucking me?” you teased. matt grabbed your wrist.

“all the time.” his eyes trailed down your heaving chest to your slightly parted legs, the delicate lace of your thong just visible. he let go of your wrist and ran his fingers from your hip over the top of your thigh to the waist band of your underwear and halted.

“you ever thought about fucking me”

“maybe” you teased, still trying to keep some composure. he lowered his touch expertly to your clit. you bit your lip.

“do you ever touch yourself when you think about me” matt began to drag his finger tips up and down your barely covered slit.

“sometimes”

“does it make you wet” he began to pull the fabric of your thong to the side. you let out a gasp as the cool air hit your exposed folds. you nodded slightly

“nuh uh. i wanna hear you say it.”

“say what”

“tell me i make you wet.“

“you make me so wet matt— i want you so bad—-“

“good girl” he said giving you a light kiss

“and good girls get rewarded” he hummed against your lips as he began to push two fingers into your leaking entrance. you let out a loud moan as you felt his digits begin to rhythmically penetrate your core. you clawed at his flexed biceps

“oh—god—matt—“ you whined

“you like that, beautiful?” he cooed into your ear

“so fucking much” matt began to pick up the pace. you felt a knot in the pit of your stomach start to form.

“shit—i’m close—“ right as the words tumbled from your lips the floor beneath you jolted once more. you and matt shared a panicked look as you both scrambled to collect yourself as the elevator retook its motion. you frantically yanked your dress back down just in time for the doors to slide back open. a hotel employee greeted you

“I am so incredibly sorry about this my sincere apologies. We’ll be comping a part of your stay—“

“oh really it’s fine. we weren’t paying for ourselves to begin with” you brushed off

“still if there’s any way we can make this up to you. let me assist you back to your rooms-what’re the numbers?“ he said hurrying down the hall. you opened your mouth to answer but felt matt yank at your list

“were both in 611, actually” matt barked. you raised an eyebrow at him.

“oh im not done with you yet.”

———————————————————————

ending note:

HEY YALLLLLLLL

IM BACK BABY!!

i’m so sorry i went MIA! i had the craziest last two months of my life and then to top it off i got hit w food poisoning and was in the ER sooooo BUT ANYWAYS IM BACK NOW AND BETTER THAN EVER!

hope u guys like this one i started it like a month ago SO it’s FINALLY coming along. PART TWO SOON

and she’s gonna be FILTHY

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