#i want them to be my little brothers so bad
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mattybsgroupie · 1 day ago
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— tub ★ matt sturniolo
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— CONTENTS: established relationship; making out; semi-public sex; p in v; creampie; sub!matt
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— NOTES: i literally gasped when i saw that pic and i just had to tell @mattscoquette how much i needed hot tub sex with him. well… here it is! i know i have so many requests but i promise i’m gonna write them all! not proofread as usual, i apologize for any mistakes, hope you enjoy it ♡
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“finally” matt mumbled under his breath as he watched chris drink his last sip of soda before wrapping himself in a towel and getting inside the house. you chuckled at his comment, dragging your arms across the warm liquid that embraced you and moving towards matt. “why? i thought you were having fun”.
“i will have fun” he said, reaching for your hands and interlocking your fingers in each other’s palms as he pulled you closer, face to face with him. “now that it’s only us” .
“you’re so lucky water distorts the actual form of things” you teased, placing your forearms around his shoulders and comfortably positioning yourself on his lap, feeling matt’s boner against you. “i could tell you were hard 30 minutes ago” you continued, index flickering around matt’s necklace. you went further, bringing the chain in between your teeth before closing your lips around the cold metal, deeply staring inside his blue orbs.
“it’s not my fault” matt whispered, not being able to keep his eyes off of you. “not when you look this good” he allowed his hands to travel across your body, stopping by your hips and forcing them down. you gasped with the sudden contact, matt’s cock seemed to have gotten even harder if that was possible.
the purple, blueish light that shimmered from the corners of the tub along with the warm bubbles turned the moment intimate, and matt couldn’t help it — he pressed his chapped lips on your neck, licking the tiny droplets of water there.
you let out a heavy sigh, letting go of his chain and tilting your head to the side, allowing matt to go further. his stubble tickled against your skin as the kisses got more heated, his teeth gently nibbling on your exposed neck.
lost in matt’s touch, your hips started moving in a pace of their own, slowly grinding your covered pussy against matt’s hardened cock. the pressure caused by the water intensified the proximity of your parts, causing matt to groan in a low tone, trying his best to stay quiet.
“my good boy doesn’t wanna be loud?” you teased and matt threw his head back, squeezing his eyes shut. “mhm” he nodded, “don’t call me that”.
“why? you don’t want chris to know his big brother is all worked up from a little grinding?” matt nods again. your thumb hovered over his lips, brushing above the lower one before pulling it down in a pout. “use your big boy words” you demand as matt sticks his tongue out, licking your digit.
“need you” matt whined, his grip on your waist growing tighter. “need you so bad, please” he repeated, slightly jerking his pelvis upwards, a silent plead for you to notice his aching cock. you leaned in and sealed your lips together, intensifying the kiss as your hands traced their way down his torso, your nails scratching his chest.
matt’s hands went to your ass, harshly grabbing your flesh and lifting you from his lap. you took the opportunity to quickly pull his shorts — just enough to free his dick from the swimwear he was wearing. you could tell matt’s eyes were wandering around the backyard, as if he was checking if you were actually alone. you cupped his cheeks, forcing him to look at you and smiling warmly, letting him know he didn’t have to worry about a thing.
his sneaky fingers reached the straps of your bikini, easily undoing the tie and letting the black fabric hang loose, your bare pussy now only a few inches away from his shaft. matt guided you towards his length, lowering your cunt on his tip. you let out a deep sigh before fully sitting on him, his dick opening you up entirely. “fuck fuck fuck” he whimpered, “s-so tight fuck”.
“be a good boy hm? you want to shut you up?” you said, trying your best to keep your composure. matt’s veins pumped inside you, his tip brushing on your cervix. “nhng— yes… can’t be loud”. you chuckled at his eagerness, pressing your lips against his once more and sliding your tongue in, twirling the wet muscle around his own.
“you’re so big” you said amidst the kiss before pulling away, flickering your gaze from his lips to where your parts met. “look how good you fill me up hm?” matt nodded. it all felt too good. almost too much. he had been staring at you for hours, and his cock was throbbing underneath that bathing suit. the warm water around his body, your hands pressing his biceps, your pussy squeezing him. “you’re right here” you said, gently grabbing his wrist and placing his palm on your tummy.
“please i-i need to—” matt whimpered, his grip on your ass growing tighter as he bucked his hips upwards, mindlessly pounding inside you. you felt your own high approaching, the familiar knot on your lower belly begging to be released. “cum! please!” matt cried out loud. you shushed him, grabbing his jaw and lifting his chin up. moans came from the back of his throat, and you had no other choice but to bring your fingers to his open mouth. matt immediately wrapped his lips around your knuckles, sucking them with all his might.
“good boy” you praised him, receiving a muffled whine from him. “cum for me baby, fill me up” as you gave him permission, matt’s entire body trembled underneath you. his orgasm washed over him and his release threw you over the edge, the warm, thick spurts of cum painting your walls white.
matt panted heavily, tiny droplets of water dripping from his brown strands. none of you wanted to let go or get up, the comfort of being in each other’s embrace being enough to fall asleep right there — and you wouldn’t mind cockwarming him for the rest of the night. unfortunately, you still had to find your bikini panties and he had to make sure his brothers were already asleep. “hey, at least we didn’t make any messes huh?” he joked, giving you one last kiss before getting up and turning the lights from the hot tub off.
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— TAGLIST ★ @thepubeburgler @submattenthusiast @pearlzier @mattsfavbitchhh @bugeyedgrl @sturncakez @riowritesitall @mattsturnswife @sturnsmia @sturnthepot @mattscoquette @conspiracy-ash @ilovemattsturn @lizzymacdonald06 @blahbel668 @fratbrochrisgf @sturnobsessedwh0re @cayleeuhithinknott @sturniolo04 @1c3b4th @mattsfavbigtitties @bellassturniolo @sturnsxplr-25 @ivammbb @shadowthesim237 @slutformatthewsturniolo @stefansring @teeheeomg @dystfopia @riasturns @faiyaz555 @sturnslutz @alesturniolos @emely9274 @courta13 @elandrys @sturns-mermaid @mattsplaything @marrykisskilled @bells-sturn @mattsgstring @strnilolover @jetaimevous @aaliyahsturniolo @evie-sturns @ivysturnss
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complete masterlist ★ matt masterlist
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itneverendshere · 2 days ago
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lucky strike - brother bsf! rafe (blurb)
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pairing: kelce's!sister x hockey!rafe warnings: none, fluff, flirting, yearning
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The party was supposed to be fun. Emphasis on supposed to be.
Your brother had dragged you along, promising it would be “chill,” throwing out all his usual excuses—“It’ll be fun, you never go out, and besides, you know everyone there”—but you should’ve known better.
Now you were stuck in a house full of drunk college students, loud music, and—worst of all—a guy who wouldn’t leave you alone.
He’d introduced himself as Jake—or maybe it was Jack; you didn’t care—and you’d been polite at first. A quick smile, a couple of sentences before excusing yourself. But he didn’t get the hint. 
He was following you around like a lost puppy, trying to impress you with stories about his car and his “networking connections,” whatever the hell that meant. 
“Oh, yeah,” Jake was saying now, his voice raised to compete with the music. “They’re starting me at, like, six figures. But, you know, I told them I’d think about it.”
You sipped your drink to keep from rolling your eyes. “Wow, that’s… something.”
“So, anyway,” he was saying as you edged toward the hallway, “if you ever want to, like, grab dinner or something, I know a great spot. And If you ever want to come down to Florida, I could totally show you around. Take you out on my boat.”
You nodded absently, scanning the room for an excuse, but your brother was nowhere in sight, and every doorway seemed blocked by a crowd.
“You and me? A weekend getaway?”
You froze, brainstorming for an excuse. “Oh, uh—”
Then you saw him in all his glory, Rafe Cameron.
He was leaning against the wall near the kitchen, a drink in one hand, his other casually tucked into his pocket. His messy blond hair looked like he’d just stepped off the cover of some ridiculous sports magazine. He looked completely at ease, this party—and everyone in it—existed solely for his entertainment.
You hated that he was your only option right now.
Rafe Cameron was your brother’s best friend since diapers, your public enemy number one on your worst days. Your stomach did that stupid little thingy it always seemed to do when you saw him, and you hated it.
You cut Jake or Jack off, raising your hand. “I need to go—uh—find my boyfriend.”
Jake blinked. “Your what?”
“My boyfriend,” you repeated, internally cringing at the word and already walking through the crowd toward Rafe. “He’s waiting for me.”
Ugh. You groaned internally. You don’t like Rafe. You don’t even think about Rafe. 
“Cameron,” you said when you reached him, grabbing his sleeve. “Need your help.”
Rafe turned, his blue eyes looking down to where your hand gripped his arm. Then he looked back up at you, his lips curving, “Didn’t think I’d ever hear you say that.”
 “I’m serious.”
His smirk widened. “Even better. What’s going on, princess?”
You glared at him. “Some guy won’t leave me alone. He’s been following me around all night, and I need you to—”
“Who?”
You shook your head quickly, knowing that look in his eyes meant trouble and black eyes. “We’re not doing the ‘caveman throws a punch’ thing. I just need you to pretend to be my…” You paused, the word catching in your throat. “Pretend to be my…”
Rafe tilted his head, watching you squirm. “Your what?”
You shuddered at the thought. “My…boyfriend.”
His smirk was back in full Cameron force. “What was that?”
You crossed your arms in defiance, refusing to let him win this. “You heard me.”
“I heard you,” Rafe nodded, leaning closer, his eyes glinting with amusement. “Just didn’t think I’d live to see the day you called me your boyfriend.”
“Fake boyfriend,” you clarified through gritted teeth. “Don’t make this weird, Cameron.”
But it already was, because just standing this close to him made your heart pound in a way you refused to acknowledge.
“Always knew you had a thing for me, but this? You want me sooooo bad,” he drawled out, tongue kissing his teeth as he pinched your arm.
“Wipe that stupid smirk off your face before I do,” You shoved his touch away, “Help me.”
Rafe’s grin widened, and he opened his mouth to say something dumb—but then Jake appeared at the end of the hallway, his face lighting up when he spotted you.
“There you are!” Jake called, heading straight for you.
“Shit,” you muttered, grabbing Rafe’s beefy arm again. “Just follow my lead.”
Jake stopped in front of you, giving Rafe a once-over. “Hey,” he said, clearly confused. “Who’s this?”
You swallowed, forcing yourself to say the word again. “This is my… uh, my boyfriend.”
The second it left your mouth, you wanted to crawl into a hole. It sounded so fake, so awkward—and Rafe wasn’t helping, because you could feel him staring at you with that stupid smug grin.
“Hey,” Rafe cut in smoothly, draping an arm over your shoulder like it was the most natural thing in the world. “You lookin’ for my girl?”
Jake blinked, “Oh. I, uh—I didn’t realize—”
“Yeah,” Rafe patronized, “You wouldn’t.”
Then Jake's stupid eyes widened, “Wait… you’re Rafe Cameron.”
Rafe’s smirk grew impossibly smug. “That’s me.”
Jake’s mouth fell open. “Holy shit. Dude, you’re the Rafe Cameron. Hockey star. I watched your game against Michigan last month—you were insane.”
Rafe shrugged, his hand tightening slightly on your waist. “Appreciate it, man.”
You wanted to die, maybe strangle him.
Jake turned to you, his tone almost accusing. “You didn’t tell me your boyfriend was Rafe Cameron.”
You laughed nervously, trying not to grimace. “Yeah, uh,… it’s not exactly my favorite topic.”
The second the words left your mouth, Rafe’s fingers pinched your waist—just enough to make you jolt—and he leaned down, his lips brushing against your hair.
“Careful, princess,” he murmured, “You’re gonna hurt my feelings.”
You clenched your fists at your sides, not giving him the satisfaction of a reaction.
Jake, oblivious to your little argument, kept gushing. “Seriously, man, you’re a beast. I don’t know how you pull off those plays—”
Jake was too busy gushing over Rafe, throwing out stats and plays like he’d memorized Rafe’s entire career. And Rafe, of course, was eating it up, nodding along like he wasn’t already aware of how good he was.
That’s when you felt it—Rafe’s fingers, toying with the hem of your top.
Your breath hitched, and you glanced up at him, but he was still focused on Jake, his face the picture of calm confidence.
“Yeah,” He was saying, his fingers moving tenderly against your skin. “That Michigan game was wild. You should’ve seen her, though.” He tilted his head toward you. “Biggest fan in the stands. Couldn’t take her eyes off me.”
Your jaw dropped. “Are you—”
“Yeah?” Jake said, interrupting you. “That’s awesome. Must be crazy, dating someone like him.”
You clenched your fists, your irritation bubbling over. “Oh, it’s insane.”
Rafe chuckled under his breath, his fingers teasing your side one last time before Jake finally walked away, muttering something about grabbing another drink.
The second he was out of earshot, you shoved Rafe’s arm off you and glared up at him. “You’re fucking insufferable.”
He grinned, his blue eyes sparkling. “Dial down the foreplay, you’re gonna make me hard.”
This motherfucker, oh my god.
You stared at him, your jaw nearly unhinged from the sheer nerve. “Are you—did you just—” You couldn’t finish the sentence, the words vanishing in your throat as your face warmed.
Rafe, on the other hand, looked entirely unbothered, leaning against the wall like he hadn’t just said the most inappropriate thing imaginable. “What?” he drawled, his smirk practically glowing in the dim light. “You started it, calling me your boyfriend. I’m just playing the part.”
You took a step back, glaring at him like you could kill him with sheer willpower, “How does anyone ever put up with you, oh my god.”
“You’re cute when you’re mad,” he quipped, his smile widening as he reached out to tug lightly on the hem of your sleeve.
You smacked his hand away. “If you keep this up, I’ll go back out there and tell Jake—or Jack, or whoever—that I was lying.”
“Please,” Rafe scoffed, rolling his eyes. “You're not gonna subject yourself to that human LinkedIn profile just to spite me.”
You opened your mouth to retort, but before you could retort, a group of partygoers passed by, a couple of them glancing your way and whispering. One of them—a girl in a glittery crop top—stopped to wave at Rafe, her voice eager.
“Oh my god, Rafe! I didn’t know you were here!”
Rafe gave her a polite nod, his hand sliding back to your waist, his fingers pressing just firmly enough to make your stomach go stupid.
“Yeah,” he said, his tone easy. “Just hanging out with my girl.”
Your head snapped up, your eyes wide with disbelief, “Dude.”
What the fuck is wrong with you?! you wanted to scream, but the girl was already nodding, her smile faltering as she glanced at you.
“Right. Cool. Um, see you around, I guess,” she said before walking off with her friends.
The second she was gone, you shoved Rafe’s hand off you again. “You’re having way too much fun with this shit.”
“Can you blame me?” he asked, face softening into something that almost—almost—resembled genuine amusement. “This is the most fun I’ve had at one of these parties in weeks.”
“Glad I could provide you with some entertainment,” you said dryly.
“Don’t sell yourself short, princess,” he said, his voice dipping slightly as his eyes met yours. “You’re the highlight of my night.”
You forced yourself to scoff pretending his sweet nothing’s didn’t hit home.
“I know you, I’m not falling for your little hockey player charm offensive.”
“Who says it’s an offensive?” he asked, tilting his head. “Maybe it’s just a… friendly check.”
“Friendly?” you repeated, arching an eyebrow. “You don’t do friendly.”
He shrugged, his fingers brushing against your wrist in a way that felt entirely too deliberate. “Maybe you just bring it out of me.”
“Why the fuck is everyone saying my sister is dating my best friend?! Hello??”
Your entire body went rigid as Kelce bulldozed through the crowd, looking thoroughly scandalized. He stopped dead in front of you, his eyes darting between you and Rafe with full-on soap opera disbelief.
Rafe, the insufferable fucking bastard, didn’t even try to keep it together—he straight-up bent over laughing, one hand braced on his knee, the other holding his drink like it was sacred.
“Oh, shit,” he wheezed, grinning wide enough to blind someone. “This just keeps getting better.”
You wanted to drop dead right there in the beer-sticky hallway.
Kelce blinked at you, bewildered. “What. The. Actual. Hell?”
“It’s not what it looks like,” you snapped, glaring at Rafe as he tried (and failed) to recover, his chest still shaking with laughter.
“Yeah?” Kelce shot back, jabbing a thumb toward the swarm of gossiping partiers. “Because everyone’s saying it looks like you two are a thing.”
“We are not a thing,” you hissed, making a couple of people nearby glance over. “He was just helping me ditch some guy who wouldn’t take a hint.”
Rafe, still grinning like a jackass, finally straightened up, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand. His voice was warm, low, “Your sister couldn’t resist me.”
You whipped around, shoving his chest hard enough that he stumbled back a step, laughing like this was the most fun he’d had in years. “Oh, shut the fuck up.”
Kelce’s jaw practically unhinged. “Wait. Are you actually into her?”
Rafe tilted his head, pretending to think it over. “Depends—am I allowed to?”
Your eyes narrowed to murderous slits. “I will put you in the ground, Cameron.”
Rafe’s laugh rumbled low in his chest, sending a traitorous shiver down your spine. “God, you’re mean,” he drawled, clearly enjoying himself. “Kinda hot, though.”
Kelce gagged dramatically. “Nope. Nope. I’m out. Y’all are sick.”
“Glad we agree,” you muttered as Kelce stormed off, throwing his hands up like you were a lost cause.
The second he was gone, you turned on Rafe, stabbing a finger into his chest. “This is your fault.”
“My fault?” he echoed, grinning like he’d just been handed front-row seats to your breakdown. “You’re the one who called me your boyfriend, princess.”
You scowled. “Yeah, clearly that was a mistake.”
Rafe’s eyes gleamed, his voice dropping just enough to make your pulse hitch. “Nah. Best decision you’ve made all night.”
You flipped him off. “I’m fake-dumping your ass immediately.”
Rafe had that look on his face—the one that made you want to throw something at him. A lazy smirk tugged at his lips as he leaned casually against the wall, all cocky confidence and oh-aren’t-I-just-so-fucking-charming energy.
“You know,” he started, dragging the words out like he was savoring them, “this kinda reminds me of when you had that crush on me when we were, what, twelve?”
Your head snapped toward him so fast you nearly gave yourself whiplash. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
He grinned wider, eyes gleaming with delight. “You used to follow me around like a lovesick puppy at Kelce’s games. Always sitting in the front row, twirling your hair like you were in some rom-com.”
You made a noise halfway between a scoff and a snarl. “Excuse me? I did not have a crush on you.”
“Yeah? So you weren’t the one who told Kelce I had ‘pretty eyes’?”
He did, in fact, have pretty eyes, so what....
Your face went up in flames. “That was a joke.”
“Sure it was,” he teased, leaning in just enough to make you want to run for the hills. “You totally didn’t write my name in your notebook, either, right?”
Your jaw dropped. “How do you even know about that?!”
“Kelce found it last month and showed me,” Rafe said, completely unapologetic. “Heart doodles and everything. Thought you were writing love songs for me or something.”
“I hate you,” you growled, your face now hotter than the sun.
“You loved me,” he quipped, biting back a laugh. “Or at least your little self did. Cute.”
“I’m going to strangle Kelce.”
Rafe smirked, brushing a nonexistent speck of dust off his sleeve. “Too late to deny it now, princess. I’m your first love, and you just fake-dated me tonight. Full circle.”
“You are so full of shit.”
“Yeah,” he drawled, eyes dancing, “but you’re still blushing.”
“I will kick you in the balls, Cameron.”
“Careful,” he warned, “You’re gonna fall for me all over again.”
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makuyi13 · 8 hours ago
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Lucy, X-Men is because of me? Wow...
Batman TAS, Wednesday, Heartstopper (I don't have Netflix)
All my socks look the same
I have smoothie trauma. My mum, convinced that me and brother were slow eater sat anything but smoothies, fed us blended monstrosities for five years in elementary school. I can no longer drink 99.99% of smoothies, but the 0.01% I can drink are pretty good.
It depends on the occasion and my gender.
Soft-boiled with salt.
Anything close by that fits between pages. Or a dog-ear.
Black, because I own many, many of the free black T-shirt that my youth ensemble gives out every year. After that, blue.
I used to collect Japanese erasers. I still have them.
I'm very bad at smelling anything but peanuts (allergic). I like the sound of the ocean.
I love it when they give us a bunch of book quotes to pick from.
I wear glasses half the time.
He never says he'll do something if he doesn't want to do it. Only if he wants to. And if he wants to, he'll do it if it kills him. This is my favourite thing about him, but also my least favourite.
Pencil
Home for me isn't as much a place as it is a person, a feeling, an action, a food, a moment, a situation. It's when I'm by people I love and I can feel okay with myself being with them for once and we're just vibing.
I have a good few houseplants. None have names.
I have an oversized beige hoodie that says "Lothlórien: Home of Lembas Bread" with the Leaf of Lórien on it. It's really comfy, and I got it printed in Vietnam. I've had it for several years now.
Some rings
I wouldn't want to have watched anything from history. Sorry.
Harry Potter
Geometry
I love those classical sculptures of women. I just love them.
Iced
It's either another '80s song or some really sad song about betrayal and stuff.
I don't know.
I have my ears pierced once. I would like a second piercing right next to it. As for tattoos, none, thanks. The most I'll go is a temporary finger tattoo.
I can't cook for shit but I can bake muffins. And earl grey lavender cookies with lemon glaze.
No. They're all on my violin case.
Yes.
Yes. I don't remember what my favourite set was.
It's organised in some areas. On the left we have all the jeans, pants, and in drawers, underwear and socks. In the center, it's a free-for-all. On the right, we have shirts and a few sweaters and hoodies. We are Asian, so shoes go by the door, not in the closet.
"Please Don't Say You Love Me" by Gabrielle Aplin
Blue. A cosmic blue, probably.
Headphones.
Yes.
His name is Peter, and he is a tan dog with dark brown ears.
I'm decent at the what-is-it-called-the-little-soccer-guys-in-a-box?
I don't care.
Hello? Everything I watch and listen to is alien to my friends.
My friend vented to me.
Citrus.
Maple.
Yes. I don't have a favourite.
On
I hand people the exact amount of money. Occasionally, I don't, and I just shove it back in my wallet.
It fluctuates from being the most beautiful handwriting and being horrendous.
Nothing that comes to mind.
Yes, unless I'm in the middle of something.
They're all the same.
Pretend it's not raining.
Dark, silent, in my bed, kind of cool, but not hot; two blankets, specifically one thin, one thick. The thin one under the thick one.
ASK ME ABOUT ANY OF THIS
50 Questions Just Because
What are three shows in your watchlist that you’ve been meaning to get to?
Describe your favorite pair of socks
Do you like smoothies?
What do you wear when you have to dress nicely?
How do you like your eggs?
What do you use to keep your place when you’re reading a book?
What color dominates your closet?
Do you collect anything? If so, what?
What sounds or scents calm you down?
What’s your favorite kind of uquiz question? (Lyric, color, aesthetic, etc)
Do you wear glasses or contacts?
What’s something about your best friend that you love?
Do you prefer to write in pen or pencil?
What are some places where you feel most at home?
Do you have any houseplants? Do any of them have names?
Describe your favorite hoodie. How long have you had it? What makes it unique?
What’s the last thing you ordered online?
What’s one historical event that you would have liked to have witnessed?
What’s your favorite Halloween costume from when you were a kid?
What kind of math are you best at?
What’s your favorite period in art history, your favorite famous work and/or your favorite style of art? If you don’t know any that’s ok!
Iced or hot drinks?
Which songs do you like to sing in the shower?
Are you a good driver?
Do you have any piercings or tattoos? Are there any that you want?
Can you cook or bake? If so, what are some of your specialties?
Do you have any keychains on your home or car keys? Describe them!
Can you swim very well? Do you like swimming?
Did you play with Legos as a kid? What was your favorite set?
Is your closet organized? If so, how?
What’s the last music video you watched?
If you could dye your hair any color, regardless of how you think it would look, what color would you choose?
Headphones or earbuds?
Can you read analog clocks?
Describe your favorite stuffed animal, either now or from when you were a kid.
What’s an arcade or table game (air hockey, ping pong, etc) that you’re really good at?
Do you mind if others are in the kitchen when you’re cooking or baking?
What’s one show you watch or musician you listen to that your friends know nothing about?
What was the best part of your day today?
What’s your favorite kind of tree?
What scent is your deodorant?
Do you have any games on your phone? If so, which one(s) is/are your favorite?
Do you shower with the lights on or off?
What do you do with spare change?
Do you have good handwriting?
What’s the last thing a friend recommended to you that you looked into and actually liked?
Do you like to go on walks?
Do you have a favorite plate or bowl?
What’s your favorite thing to do when it’s raining?
Describe your perfect sleeping conditions
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nodoubtily · 1 day ago
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riki pool smut? he's too hott for that.... btw just saw your post for ideas
IM SO SORRY THIS CAME SO LATE I HAVE LITERALLY BEEN SO UNMOTIVATED ❤️😭
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TW:// sex in the pool DURRRR? SMUT so MDNI. Niki is vegan in this story, but he’s not CRAZY about it (it’s for the sake of the plot, so they can stay back and fuck, y’know?), really long, orgasming inside, unprotected sex (Wrap before you tap) hair pulling, really bad ending. Lmk if I missed anything else. OH and cursing.
Jay is also involved, playing as Reader’s brother.
Perm taglist (ask if you wanna join) - @jyikeu @goldenretrieverjakezgirlbaby
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It’s gonna be a hot ass day. That’s for sure.
So thankfully, the Airbnb your friends, your brother, yourself, and boyfriend are staying at has a pool. If you’re not all out and about, you’re all in the pool, playing every game you guys can think of.
It’s current the third day of your friend-cation, as you all call it. It’s midway through morning and you’re in the kitchen, planning your meals for the day with Jay, your brother.
“We’re going out for dinner tonight.” He tells you, pointing to the blank spot for lunch today. You nod, scribbling ‘out for dinner’ on the blank space. He nods, and he pats your shoulder, before walking to the main space, throwing himself next to all your friends. You turn to the fridge, seeing if you had the ingredients for the brunch when you feel two hands snake around your waist, pressing their front to you, him shoving his face in the crook of your neck.
“Hey baby..” Niki sighs contently, his arms caging around you tighter.
“Good morning, sunshine.” You giggle when you hear him sigh in a dramatic way.
“What are we doing today?” He asks you quietly, still tired, and you point to the list of what you’re eating and the other list of the plans today. His eyes follow your hand and he goes over, pulling you with him. You quickly close the fridge door, not being able to escape the clutch of a 6-foot-you don’t know guy.
You stand in front, him leaning over your shoulder as his hands rest on either side on the counter. He reads over the lists, and he nods. His hand grabs yours, and he leads you to where everyone else is.
“Morning, sleepyhead.” Your best friend, Alice, nods to Niki, who raises his eyebrows in a greeting way.
“Morning.” He sighs, holding his arms up, bringing your hand he’s holding up with his as he stretches. You quickly stand on your tippy toes, am reaching up comfortably. Jay snorts at the sight, and you clear your throat. Niki looks at you, then your hand, his eyes widen slightly. “Oh shi-“
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“I don’t want to go, baby..” Niki sulks, arms crossed as he sits on the edge of the bed, watching you pick both yours and his outfit for dinner. “Can we just stay here?” He asks for the millionth time.
You sigh for the millionth time. “For the last time. We’re booked for 6, we can’t just decide not to go. Plus, all of us are going.”
“Who said we can’t decide? We’re our own person.”
“My brother. He wants us both to go.” You retort. He scoffs.
“And since when has his word ever stopped us?” His voice drops, and he stands up, striding to you in a few long steps, until you physically feel him breathing down your neck.
“What do you mean?” Your knees shake, and standing on your two feet is more difficult then before.
“He said you’re off limits. We fucked in the backseat of my car,” Niki’s hands rake down your back, before gliding them across your waist, resting them on your hips, grasping at your skin in need. “He said we couldn’t date, but we got together three nights after he said that. He said to be quiet when we’re together. You can’t shut your pretty little mouth.” Niki’s words form a horde of butterflies in your stomach, and you feel yourself becoming wetter.
But you’re still sane. “No, we have to go.” You push through your thick wall of desperation, barely making it as you hand him a small, tight black dress for yourself and a cotton black button up for himself. He groans in frustration.
“Please baby. I don’t even feel that well.” He says.
“But you feel well enough to have sex with me?” You can’t hide the snort that exits your mouth.
“What can I say- you’re pussy is so good. So tight for me.”
“Shut the-“
“I don’t know what to wear. And I can’t trust you to pick a good outfit.” He’s grasping at straws.
“Then why are you letting me?” You retort. He groans again.
“I don’t even like the food we’re getting..” his voice is low, a mumble, meaning he didn’t want you to hear it. But you do, and that’s when you stop in your tracks. Fuck. He’s vegan. And won’t eat meat if he can miss it. And to be honest, you’re still full from brunch and the snacks you’ve been eating throughout the day. You’re not really hungry either. You sigh. He’s won without even knowing it.
You turn to him, making your way. You take the dress and shirt you gave to him from his hands and place them back in the closet.
“What’re you doing?” He asks, curious.
“I forgot you’re vegan.” You say, turning to him. “I’m sorry. I completely forgot.”
“It’s okay. You’ve been busy cooking for majority of the day.”
“Yeah, cooking meat you didn’t fucking touch.” You hold his hands, generating all your love into that simple gesture. “I’m sorry, baby. Forgive me?” You ask. Niki acts as if in deep thought. Then, his eyes click, turning mischievous.
“Maybe…if we stay back.” You roll your eyes. “Please, baby.”
“You’re not going to stop with this, are you?” You ask.
“Face it. You don’t want to go either.” You hate that he’s right.
“Fine! Fine, we’ll stay back. You’re telling Jay though.”
“Easy enough.” Niki shrugs.
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“Absolutely not.” Jay deadpans. Niki’s jaw drops.
“Wha—!” Niki groans. “Hyung! Why can’t we?” He asks, confused.
“Oh, cause I want to leave you alone to fuck my sister? No. Nope. Not happening.”
“Why do you think we’re going to fuck. You always think that.” Niki pushes.
“Because. You always fuck.”
“No we do not!” Niki is appalled.
“Not happening, little bro.” Jay pats Niki’s shoulder, before you stop him in his tracks. You holds your phone up to his face, and he reads a message your mother sent.
Mama: Park Jongseong, you are to let your sister and Niki stay home if they want. No one stopped you when you wanted to stay back with your exes, so you have no right to stop Y/N. If she tells me that you continue to do so, do not doubt me for a second. I will drag you by the ear back home. Have fun, and don’t do anything your father would do.
Jay scoffs. “Favouritism. At the finest. Do not deny.” He points at you.
“I’m not. I know I’m the favourite.” You shrug, grabbing Niki‘a hand, leading them out of Jay’s room.
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“The water looks really good.” You say, you hand scratching at the other hand. Niki places your towels on the lawn chair closest to the pool.
“Then get in.” Niki shrugs as he finally gets ready himself. He slides his shirt off, throwing it where the towels are.
“It also looks really cold.” You whine out lightly. You hear Niki chuckle behind you, and you leave it, thinking nothing of it.
That is, until he picks you up, holding you, bridal style.
“Niki! Put me down!” You yell, though your arms protectively wrap around his neck, pressing yourself against him in fear of dropping.
“Nah.” He then runs to the edge, jumping into the deep end. Cold water engulfs you, spreading throughout everywhere when you break the call surface of the pool. Your body leaves his quickly, swimming to the surface, where air fills your lungs once more. Niki soon follows, sighing in relief. You hear nothing but the water moving, remembering all the other house inmates are gone out for the night. You push yourself into a swimming position, freestyling your way across to the shallow end, when you stand comfortably.
You’re chilling, until you don’t see Niki, and you call out. Then, with no warning, hands wrap around your legs, hoisting you in the air. He submerges from the water, lifting you with him.
“Niki!” You shrieked, half panicked, but also midway through giggles. “Put me down!”
“Okay.” The sneaky glint in his eyes gave away, and you get thrown back into the water. He comes straight to you, wrapping his arms against you again, strong arms snaking along your waist, holding you up, causing you to tower over him. He presses himself against you, cuddling you as you relax in his hold.
“The water feels lovely.” You say, staring up at the sky that’s darkening from a golden glow to a deep shade of blue, nearing to nighttime.
Niki hums in agreement, his mind elsewhere.
“You okay, baby?” You swipe your hands along his short strands, and he opens his eyes, which were closed as he rested his head against your half-covered breasts.
You wrap your legs around his waist comfortably, and that’s when you feel it.
“Niki-“ your voice cuts off as he begins moving, sitting on the step that runs across the whole pool, fashioned for a seat. You straddle him, your legs resting rigid against his hips. “You’re always hard-“ a moan cuts through your speech when his hands palm your ass cheeks, grinding you against him softly.
“Can you blame me when you’re my girlfriend?” He asks you, his voice soft and low and his eyes pierce through your soul. You find it hard to concentrate on whatever he had just said, as your clit comes directly into contact with his knob, a ridge that causes extra pressure, and your hips move against their own record against that ridge, causing more pleasure for both you and Niki. He quivers, before lowly cursing under his breath.
“Can I fuck you?” He becomes more desperate the longer you grind against him like that. “Baby, please, i need to be inside of you.” And you realise that you can’t find yourself to say no.
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That’s how you find yourself bent over the edge of the pool, knees pressed against the step as Niki shuffled closer, his tip teasing your folds. You wiggle your hips, earning a slap to your ass cheek.
“Patience, Baby. We didn’t prep you.” His voice sings through your ears.
“I can take it. Please, Niki baby, just please fuck me- oh—!” You moan out when he slams into you, bottoming out quickly. Your pussy is pulsating, working to accommodate Niki’s cock. His tip already leaking with precum, neither of you waste much time before he begins to move, his hips finding a suitable pace, disturbing the water.
His left hand wraps your hair around it, pulling it while the other palms the concrete, finding stance. “Oh fuck- baby, squeezing me so well.” He groans, feeling your walls clenching around his thick unit. “Going to make me cum so quick.”
The water splashes between him in you, as it moves to make way for Niki’s relentless thrusts as he constantly bottoms out every time, reaching backwards enough to almost pull out just to bottom out once more, driving you crazy to the brink of your orgasm.
“Fuck, I’m gonna cum.” You announce, your voice shaking as you struggle to stay upright. Niki realises, and he wraps his arms around your waist, pressing your back against him as his thrusts become shallow, brushing against your G-Spot, bringing you so fucking close. Then, without warning, explosions convulse through your cunt. Your thighs clench and shake, and you’re internally for Niki, who’s holding you upright.
Sooner than later, his climax rolled around, and he presses his hips right against your ass, his cock reaching into the deep depths of your pussy, his warm liquid heating you up as it seeps inside. He continuously chants while his orgasm rides out, “Fuckfuckfuckfuck.”
Panting, he pulls out quickly to prevent max overstimulation. He then falls backwards into the water, cock still out and proud as you quickly pull your bikini bottoms up. Filling him, you do the same, holding hands with him under the water.
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I SUCK AT ENDINGS
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jd-loves-fiction · 2 days ago
Note
Requesting a Jade Leech thing where the reader and Jade have been broken up with, but he’s a manipulative bastard and fully intends on charming them back. Get as creative as you want with the prompt, I just wanna see him being all scheming lmao
(I’ve had “bad idea right?” stuck in my head on loop)
🌑I'm gonna make this a bit more comedic, hope you like it :))
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𝐒𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞
Jade seemed strangely unaffected when you told him you wanted to break up, accepting it easily with an oddly peaceful smile on his face. Just what is he up to?
You tried to steer clear of him for a while, in fear of what he might be scheming as well as for your own emotional stability, but he always just seemed to be there. 
Studying in the library? There he is, just standing around suspiciously, looking as effortlessly beautiful as always.
Enjoying a snack at the lounge? He’s the only one who brings it to you everytime, despite how many other workers there are, flashing a soft, gentlemanly smile and wishing you ‘bon appétit’ in a sugar sweet tone.
Talking to a cute underclassman stuttering through his attempt at asking for your number? Suddenly he seizes up like he’s being shocked and makes up some sorry excuse to run off in the other direction. When you turn around, there he is, smiling innocently and waving at you from where he stands – no doubt having a hand in what just happened.
You quickly started to understand why he looked so unbothered when you were breaking up with him – that was his scheming face, already thinking up ways of driving you back to his arms.
Loneliness won't be what does it. You’re stubborn, damn it! And the more he tries the more you want to see how far he’s willing to take this little game. It shows effort, at least, it’s just a shame he seems so hellbent on making you give in instead of having an adult conversation. 
So you play his game. Jade is a jealous man – nothing makes him spring into action like envy, this you know for certain. Next time you pass by the lounge to study, you make sure to sit at the bar and never acknowledge him, instead making loud conversation with Floyd about… whatever it is he’s rambling about, though he seems to be in a happy mood which is good for you.
He talks so much at you that it’s barely a conversation, more like a sermon of some kind – especially so given his passionate tone, Though you know Jade pays little mind to those details while he’s boiling with jealousy behind the bar. And to anyone watching you two it sure looks like you’ve moved on from Jade and onto his brother.
You leave the lounge that day exhausted but pleased, knowing you’ve successfully riled Jade up more than he did you. Maybe this’ll be enough for him to let you move on… but then again… do you want to move on?
Caught up in your conflicting thoughts you fail to hear him approach until he’s breathing down your neck. Startling, your back bumps against a nearby wall as you quickly turn around, seeing Jade right in front of you with a strangely neutral expression on his pretty face.
“...Jade?” You try to sound casual, but you’re sure the fright seeps into your tone regardless of your efforts.
He calls your name softly in turn, a troubled look crossing his face for a moment, “Had a fun time listening to Floyd prattle?”
Lips twisting in indignation, you righten your posture, “Very much so! He's a surprisingly good listener – compared to a certain brother of his.”
“Oh, really?”
“Really.” You assure him disingenuously, arms crossed petulantly. Jade watches you silently for a moment, a familiar look of longing in his eyes – forming a tightness in your chest, before he sighs heavily. For a moment you think he might finally be honest with you, open up about how he truly feels and vow to be better – it’s all it’d take for you to take him back. But of course, it can't be that easy to change such a man.
For now, he settles for leaning in close, one hand against the wall behind you and taking a lock of hair between his fingers before bringing it to his lips. You hold in an undignified squeal.
“Just don't have too much fun with him. We both know he could never compare.”
You scoff, “I think you’ve been watching too many romance movies. You seem to be getting slightly delusional.” Shouldering past him you walk away without looking back to see his thoughtful expression. Not that you’d know what it means or care! Hmph!
If only you could both just talk to each other,  there’d be no need for these silly games. Though they sure are fun…
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justasimpleton-26 · 3 days ago
Text
Hmmm, I'd like to try my hand at this!
Idiot, Idiot, Idiot. Jason thinks to himself. At least he thinks he does, because Dick pinches his arm and shakes his head.
Jason makes sure not to stare too long at Dick because then the toxin he accidentally inhaled will make Dick look like a melted-face puddle and Jason is pretty sure it's bad enough he has to deal with the giggling maniacs of the Joker.
The Joker, who stands in that corner, and watches Jason like a hawk.
Jason wants to leave. Twice or three times he's tried to escape the Batcave, but either Damian finds him (the scared 14 year old who tries to play it off), Tim does (the 19 year old who's jittery from nerves or coffee), or Dick does, the ever patient 25 year old who seems to be the only one that can touch Jason, without Jason screaming in hysterics.
"How much longer?" Damian asks. Or maybe it's Bruce.
Jason can't focus on one of them too long without their faces turning into twisted, Joker versions of themselves.
"Wow, little bird. They seem to really care for you...now." Joker says, as he taps the back of Jason’s head with...not a crowbar, it's too soft. Maybe his cane. "But I didn't see them when I invited you over to play."
"Stop...just...stop." Jason says, his voice hoarse. Was he screaming? When was he screaming?
Jason sits on the couch, curled up into himself. He doesn't care if he looks ridiculous, whatever it takes to not have the Joker focused on him, Jason will do it.
"Now, boy wonder...wanna hear a joke?" Joker asks, his voice right next to Jason’s ear.
"Lay it on me." Jason replies, weary. He doesn't understand how though the Lazarus pit healed him...he can still feel the pain on his body.
"Lay what on you?" Bruce asks, his voice even.
"That was rude, Bats. Birdie, tell the Bat to be nice or you'll be the one filled with strife." Joker said, tapping Jason’s shoulder. This time, it was the crowbar.
Jason, with tired reluctance, relays the demand.
Jason doesn't bother to look up if Bruce listened or not. His gaze sticks to the floor, that was supposed to be cement but for some reason is nothing but wriggling maggots.
"Like a coffin." Jason whispered to himself, and that makes Joker laugh.
"Hey birdie, you ever seen the living Deadman? No? You should, you own a mirror!" Joker laughed maniacally, Jason letting out a weak chuckle.
Okay, that one was pretty funny.
"What was the joke?" Dick asked, and Jason spares a glance at his older brother. Dick's face remains the same for a bit and Jason takes in a shaky breath.
"Tell them the joke, Jason. I'm sure they're DYING for a laugh as well." Joker orders, and Jason forces his gaze up, looking over at all of them with a forced calm.
"Joker asked me if I've seen the living Deadman. When I said no, he replied with I should have, I own a mirror." And Jason laughs, laughs so hard, it hurts his stomach and he's near tears.
"That's dark, Jay." Tim says, and Jason wipes his eyes.
"Oh, Timbers. I gotta laugh at his jokes. Or else he'll throw a tantrum and that crowbar will be wedged between my skull." Jason explains, Joker slapping Jay on the back.
"Just trying to turn you into the headless horseman." And again Joker laughs, and again Jason laughs, holding on to his stomach as a pain makes him gasp for air.
Someone steadies him, Jason trying to pull free. But goddamn, if his stomach doesn't hurt like a bitch.
"Get the bucket! Get it now!" Someone shouts, shoving a metal gray bucket under Jason’s face.
Jason vomits his lungs out, the acrid taste in the back of his throat forcing him to spew out even more. He's broken out in a sweat, staring at the Joker who's laughing at Jason’s pain, all the time, EVERY TIME.
When he's done, he feels lightheaded and so tired, leaning back on the couch. A cold rag covered his forehead and eyes, his breathing shallow and fast.
There's a prick on his arm and he passes out.
There's a pounding in the back of his eyes when he wakes up. Jason is back in his room and his body feels so heavy.
"Holy...crap." Jason says, trying to sit up.
"Take it easy, son." Bruce says, Jason moving his head to stare at him.
Bruce looks tired...haggard. And it looks like he's been sitting on that chair all night.
"Dad?" Jason croaks out, his mouth dry and his tongue heavy.
"I'm here Jason. I'm here." Bruce replied, patting Jason on the knee.
As Bruce comes into focus, others move. Dick stands next to Bruce, followed by Tim then Damian.
Damian actually looks like he's been crying. This alarms Jason. Very rare has he seen the teen cry.
"Who died?" Jason asks, and Damian shakes his head, Dick putting a hand on Jason’s shoulder.
"No one. No one at all." Dick assures.
Jason’s not sure why they're being affectionate or what happened yesterday.
But he decides to accept it.
Nothing wrong with a bit of affection from them.
I awfully need a fic, where Jason gets drugged by a big dose of fear toxin and starts seeing Joker's hallucination around — kind of like Bruce in Arkham Knight game, you know — and everyone is just... confused what to do with all of it?
They can't really produce antidote because it would fuck up his mind more, so he is stuck in the cave for the next 24 hours, and no one is leaving, because they can't allow Jason to go through this alone. Again.
Jason tries to put a brave face of course (god, he is THE Red Hood, one of the most influential people in the Gotham, he can't be afraid of a stupid clown–) but the more hours pass, the less he can control his fear or anxiety. Instead of pacing around like a ghost — he did that in the first four hours — he sits down on the couch, hugs himself, and starts answering to Joker?
Yeah, he knows he is not real. He understands that feeding hallucination with conversations will not help — and Dick, the ultimate expert in handling hallucinations, really, gave him some tips on what to do — but he can't just ignore it now.
He is too scared.
He remembers what comes if he flips off Joker or stops playing by his rules, alright?
"Knock, knock!"
Joker's face is as pale and terrifying as Jason remembers it to be. And maybe it is hallucination, but he still can feel his panted, hot breath on his ear.
He is alone, of course. Or not entirely alone, but others would notice if Joker was really here, right?
"Who is this?" He whispers, sensing his family tensing a little, not being sure what to expect.
Jason either argues with his hallucination or asks to stop. Or maybe just wordlessly scraps on his temples or cheek, in the place the J scar used to be, before the Lazarus Pit erased it from his body completely, leaving no traces.
"The stray dog that can't bark! Do you know why it can not bark, Jayjay?"
"I don't fucking know," he murmurs, but the fiericness with which he screamed at this man for hours now is gone; he sounds tired even to his own ears, and it is embarrassing. "Tell me."
"Because I broke its bones with a crowbar, silly!~" Joker shakes his shoulders, and Jason can practically feel the familiar ache of shattered bones. "It– Ahahah, it is too hurt to bark! It can only whine!"
Jason laughs.
His facial expression doesn't really change — he is still frowning a little — but he laughs with a painful wheeze. Joker is pleased enough to sigh dreamily in his ear.
Good job, Jason.
"What so funny?" Dick asks carefully, a patient smile on his face — he has been trying to distract him with conversations the most; Bruce prefers to keep his silence, and Tim thinks accidental physical touches help more than talking.
"He just said a joke," Jason shrugs weakily.
"Tell it to them," Joker orders. "Let us all laugh."
He doesn't really want to. But he can't disobey. He can't allow himself to die again, and–
"Knock, knock," he clears up his throat.
"Who is this?" Tim echoes, turning his chair to him, smart eyes scanning him up and down.
"The stray dog that can't bark," Jason tugs the tips of his own hair. "Do you know why it can not bark?"
Bruce tenses in his chair. He tenses in a way, Jason thinks, he already knows this joke; he has already heard it before. He almost looks as if he wants to stop him, cut mid-sentence.
But for some reason, he doesn't.
"Uh, why?" Dick tilts his head.
"Because my– its bones are broken," Jason stutters. "You know, dogs can't really bark when they are hurt? Just whine."
He can't bring himself to laugh again, even though Joker keeps giggling over and over.
"That's not funny, Jay," Tim murmurs.
"Yeah. I guess it isn't. But if I don't laugh, he'll get the crowbar again, and I really, really want to keep barking," Jason smiles.
He tries to ignore pitful glances of his family members, and the torture continues. No one breaks his bones this time, but Jason still whines when Bruce hugs him by the end of the night, pressing to his chest.
Joker is not here anymore, but Jason still can hear his taunting whisper, somewhere in the back of his head.
You will die his son.
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honeyryewhiskey · 9 hours ago
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when dean falls in love
or, all the little details that run through dean's mind when he's falling in love. and all the fears and self-doubt that come crashing down on him. warnings ! a pinch of angst | mostly feel good | kissing | confessions | dean admiring reader | dean's internal struggles | reader being patient | sam third wheeling j's note ! this is my apology for that sad one i posted last night. also, i had little baby 26-year-old dean in mind for this one. enjoy <3 5k words
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Few rules exist in Dean’s life—most are made to be bent, broken, or ignored altogether. But you?
You’re the exception. You’re the rule he refuses to cross.
You are entirely off-limits.
Not that you seem to care. You crashed into the Winchesters' world like a wildfire, all sharp eyes and steady hands, showing up guns blazing in the middle of a nasty hunt. There was no slow introduction, no time for cautious trust. One minute, it was just another night, another hunt—then suddenly, there you were, standing in the wreckage, breathing heavily, covered in blood that wasn’t yours.
Dean should’ve known to let go right then and there—you were too good to be true. But he didn’t. Instead, you stuck to the corners of his mind like sugar between his teeth, sweet and relentless. Your energy, raw and electric, burned through everything around you. You invaded his thoughts, wrapped around his mind like a constant hum.
You were the kind of girl who made a man forget his own damn rules.
At first, Dean tells himself this newfound trio is temporary.
You’re a lone wolf, and the Winchesters don’t do long-term attachments. But somehow, you weave yourself into their lives like you’ve always belonged.
You slip into the passenger seat of the Impala without waiting for an invitation, kicking your feet up on the dash just to piss him off. You steal fries off his plate like it’s second nature, smirking when he glares at you but never stopping. You roll your eyes at his bravado, call him out when he’s being an ass, and yet—when it matters—you’re always there. Ready to fight. Ready to bleed for this life, for them.
For him.
Dean tells himself he doesn’t notice the little things. The way you hum along to his rock tapes like you’ve known them forever, how your hands—so much softer than he deserves—patch him up without hesitation. The way you meet his teasing with just as much fire, never backing down.
None of it means anything.
Because it can’t.
Not when he’s always been too rough, too jagged around the edges to hold onto something as good as you. Somewhere around his twentieth birthday, he made peace with the fact that he was cursed—fated to be nothing more than a soldier, a brother, a blade meant for war.
Being anything else, wanting anything more—wanting you—would only end in tragedy.
But then he catches Sam talking to you in hushed voices over coffee in the morning, like you’re family. As if every diner table and wobbly motel kitchenette was always meant to sit the three of you. He watches you clean his gun without being asked, like it’s second nature now. He hears your voice on the other end of his phone at 3 a.m., always answering when he calls, asking if he’s okay after a rough hunt. 
And just like that, you’re in. You’re a part of them.
A part of him.
And that? That’s the most dangerous thing of all.
Dean doesn’t know when it happened—when the lines started to blur, when the rule he swore by turned into something fragile, something breakable.
Maybe it’s the way you slip so effortlessly into their lives, settling into the spaces he didn’t even realize were empty—mediating brotherly arguments like you were always meant to be their missing piece. Maybe it’s the sound of your laughter, bright and unshaken, slicing through the heaviness of a bad hunt. Or maybe it’s the way you look at him, like he’s something more than the scars, more than the sharp edges—like he’s worth seeing at all.
Or maybe it’s the small moments like this.
The diner is warm, buzzing with the quiet hum of conversation, the clatter of silverware against plates. Sam’s focus is his laptop, half-listening to whatever you’re saying as you flip through the menu, sitting beside Dean, debating tonight’s meal. Dean’s trying to keep up, trying to ground himself in the normalcy of it all.
And then, without a second thought, you reach for his jacket.
It’s been draped over the back of the booth since he sat down, familiar and worn, carrying the weight of long nights and too many miles. And you just take it, slipping your arms through the sleeves, tugging the collar up like it belongs to you.
Dean’s fingers tighten around the menu.
It’s nothing new—he’s handed it over a dozen times before, thrown it around your shoulders without a second thought on cold nights. But this? This is different. You didn’t ask. Didn’t even hesitate. You just did it, like it was instinct, like it was yours.
He clears his throat, trying to force down the feeling clawing its way up his chest. “Comfy?”
You hum, settling into the fabric, your fingers curling into the sleeves. “Mmhmm.” Your voice is light, easy. “You always run so warm. Thought I’d steal a little of that.”
Dean swallows hard, his mouth suddenly dry. Prying his eyes off of you, he tries again to look like he’s reading the menu. Scanning the small font, even though he’s already decided on a burger and fries like he always gets. 
Across from him, Sam sighs, clicking at his keyboard. “You guys do realize you act like a couple, right?”
Dean shoots him a glare. “Shut up.”
Your laugh falls out sweet and quiet, the sound pressing against his heart with a persistence to make it move faster. Your boot nudges Dean’s under the table, and he takes it as an excuse to look at you again. “You jealous, Sammy? Want me to steal your jacket next?”
Dean barely hears the response. He watches as you burrow further into his jacket, your nose dipping beneath the collar. Then, with that same mischievous glint in your eye that always spells trouble for him, you lift the collar to make a show of taking a slow, exaggerated sniff.
His brows press down, lashes forming a tight squint around his eyes as he braces himself, “What the hell are you doing?”
Your lips twitch like you’re holding back a laugh. “One thing about this old jacket, though,” you muse, taking another thoughtful inhale. “There’s this metallicy smell… buried under all that cologne you drown this poor leather in.”
Dean scoffs, shifting in his seat and turning his head to save himself from letting you see the pink creeping up his cheeks. “I do not drown it in cologne.”
Sam doesn’t even look up from his laptop, but his chuckle doesn’t help ease Dean’s embarrassment. “You kinda do.”
Dean’s head shoots up, tilting slightly as he glares at his brother. You’re already grinning, undeterred, your fingers lazily tracing the worn seam of the sleeve. “It’s faint, but it’s there. Like… gunpowder. And whiskey, I would assume. And maybe a little bit of blood?” Your teasing gaze flicks up to meet his, “What have you been getting into, Winchester?”
Dean should play it cool. Shrug it off. But he can feel his ears burning red and hot from that little teasing smile on your lips and his brain is a few steps behind, caught somewhere between you’re too damn close and when did this get so hard to ignore?
He leans back, arms crossing over his chest. His mind makes quick work to steady buzzing nerves, “Dunno what to tell ya, sweetheart,” he sighs, jaw popping as he finds his barings, “That jacket’s seen more action than you have.”
You feign offense, pressing a hand to your chest. “Wow. First, you over-season your leather, and now you’re just slinging insults?” You shake your head, dramatic as ever. “I thought we had something special, D.”
Dean rolls his eyes, but the corner of his mouth twitches. “Yeah, yeah. You done sniffin’ my jacket, or should I be concerned?”
You huff, settling back against the booth so that your arms brush against each other when you shrug. “I dunno. Might need another whiff.”
Dean points a warning finger at you, his smile breaks his attempt at stoicism, and all it does is make you grin wider.
Sam lets out another long-suffering sigh, shutting his laptop with a little more force than necessary. “I’m concerned. And I’m officially done with this conversation.”
You smirk, smug as ever, but Dean? Dean’s just trying to pretend he’s not completely, stupidly gone for you.
The rest of dinner passes in easy conversation—at least, for you. Dean is quieter than usual, letting you and Sam fill the space between bites of food and stolen fries. He tries to focus on anything else—the chipped laminate of the table, the hum of the old diner lights, the way his fingers tap absently against the side of his glass.
Mostly, he tries not to look at you.
Not when you lean forward, chin propped in your palm, laughing at something Sam says. Not when you nudge his boot under the table, stealing the last bite of his pie with a satisfied little smirk. Not when you adjust the lapels of his leather jacket like it’s yours now, like it belongs to you the way he does.
By the time the check hits the table, he’s still got too many thoughts in his head, and none of them are ones he should be having.
Outside, the night air is crisp, the motel’s flickering vacancy sign glowing just across the lot. Sam mutters something about research and trudges off toward their shared room, leaving the two of you lingering by the diner’s door.
Dean shoves his hands into his pockets, suddenly hyper-aware of how quiet it is. You shift on your feet, then tilt your head toward the motel.
“What’s it gonna be tonight, D?” Your voice is soft, slipping into the quiet like it belongs there. “You sticking around for a bit, or heading to bed?”
Dean exhales, shaking his head. “Gotta make sure you get in safe.”
Your laugh rings through the empty parking lot, light and easy, curling around him like warmth against the cool night air. And despite only wearing a flannel, despite the late hour and the breeze whispering through the lot, he feels nothing but warm.
“Ah, yes,” you tease between giggles, nudging his arm. “My knight in shining armor, always keeping me safe.”
The short walk across the lot is quiet but never empty—the kind of silence that lingers in the spaces between you, comfortable and charged all at once.
At your door, you unlock it with a flick of your wrist, pushing it open before leaning lazily against the frame. The dim motel light catches the amusement in your eyes as you glance back at him.
“See?” You gesture to the empty room with a grin. “All’s quiet on the western front.”
“Yeah, yeah.” He waves you off, stepping inside without a second thought, the door clicking shut behind him.
You move past him with easy familiarity, shuffling through your things while Dean leans against the dresser, arms crossed over his chest. He watches as you slip into your usual routine—kicking off your shoes, pulling your hair back, stifling a yawn with the sleeve of your sweater. His jacket, draped over the chair beside your bed, stays untouched. He doesn’t move to take it. If he’s honest, he kind of hopes you’ll sleep in it. Let it take on your scent instead of his.
When you return from the bathroom, fresh-faced and sighing contentedly, you crawl onto the bed and sit cross-legged, flipping absentmindedly through an old paperback—the one you grabbed from the library when you were supposed to be researching.
“You gonna tell me what’s got you so deep in thought tonight?” you break into the silence without looking up, voice soft but knowing.
Dean huffs, tipping his head back. He’s trying to find something other than you to look at, he’s gotta stop watching you so often. “I’m always deep in thought.”
You snort, “yeah, okay. Sure.”
Your eyes flicker over him, he’s always following you into your room like a stray pup, like he doesn’t know where else to go. He lingers in your space, but is careful to maintain a set distance. At first you thought he was trying to claim you as another notch on his bedpost, but all that ever happened on these nights were quiet talks until your eyes grew too heavy to keep open. And by morning, you’d be alone, tucked beneath the blankets like someone made sure they were pulled around you just right.
You watch him for a beat, noting the familiar tension winding through his shoulders. “Seriously, though. You were kinda out of it at dinner.”
Dean hesitates, glancing away like he can pretend he didn’t hear you. His eyes settle on the peeling motel wallpaper, tracing the cracks like they hold some kind of answer. He hadn’t planned on sticking around this late—not when his head is already full of you. Not when it’s dangerous for the sanctity his carefully drawn lines to be near you like this, feeling the way he does.
But neither of you move. You, cross-legged on the bed, book in hand. Him, still leaning against the dresser, pretending he has somewhere else to be.
He should make an excuse, crack a joke, steer this conversation somewhere safer. But your voice, soft and steady, tugs at something in him. And instead of fighting it, he lets himself lean in.
“You ever think about what happens when we stop?”
Your fingers still against the worn pages of your book. “Stop what?”
“This.” He gestures vaguely, like that explains everything. “The hunting, the moving around. All of it.”
Your brows furrow slightly as you consider his words, the weight of them pressing down in a way you don’t want to acknowledge. This life—it’s far from glamorous, but it’s all you’ve got. Stepping away from it is a thought you buried long ago, a fantasy that never had a chance. You shrug, pushing the thought aside. “I don’t know,” you say quietly. “Never really let myself think about it too much.”
Dean exhales a heavy breath, eyes dropping to the floor like the weight of your words is sinking in. “Yeah.”
A beat of quiet settles between you. It’s not uncomfortable, but there’s a weight to it that presses against Dean’s chest, making the space feel tighter than it is. You can feel his tension, like he’s holding something back, but he doesn’t look up.
Then, you shift, breaking the silence with an easy gesture—a pat to the empty space beside you on the bed. “Don’t just trail off on me, D. Sit down. Tell me more.”
Dean hesitates for a split second. This is a bad idea. It’s an invisible line he’s been toeing for too damn long, one he’s tried not to cross—never sit on the bed, never get too close when we’re alone. But then again, it’s you. You’re looking at him like you care, soft and patient, as if whatever’s inside his head actually matters.
And just like that, he gives in. One little exception, just for tonight.
With a quiet sigh, he pushes off the dresser, settling beside you on the bed. He stretches his legs out, but the small mattress makes it impossible to keep any real distance. His legs brush against yours, and his arm brushes yours too. He hopes to hell you don’t see the flush creeping up his neck.
If you notice, you don’t mention it. There’s no teasing, no playful smile—just the quiet comfort of your presence beside him. You don’t push, don’t pry. You just sit there, calm and steady, waiting for him to speak.
“I dunno,” he mutters, “just been thinkin’ lately. About what it all looks like when it’s over. If it ever is.”
You tilt your head, studying him. “And?”
Dean swallows, debating how much to say. How much to admit.
“And… I don’t see much of anything.” He exhales sharply, shaking his head. “Spent my whole life doing this, I don’t see an ending where I’m not dying at the hands of this. Y’know, going down in the fight.”
You’re quiet for a moment, then—so softly he almost doesn’t notice—you shift closer, your arm snaking its way around his. You’re snuggled right up next to him, watching with careful eyes.
“There will always be monsters to hunt,” you murmur, your voice soft yet steady in the dim room. “But you don’t have to be a warrior forever, D. There will always be hunters, too. Doesn’t mean you have to be one.”
Dean chuckles, but it’s a hollow sound, more an exhale than a laugh. His gaze drifts toward the bedspread, unable to meet yours. "Yeah, well... I don't know if I could just walk away." His words come out quieter, like he’s unsure if he’s talking to you or to himself.
You turn slightly toward him, noticing the tension still coiled in his shoulders. The quiet settles deeper now, heavier with each passing moment, but he doesn’t seem to notice the distance between your words.
“What’s got you thinking about all of this?” you keep your voice light, though there’s a weight to it.
Dean rubs the back of his neck, his thoughts at war with the words he wants to say. "I can’t have the things I want, not really," he finally admits, the confession slipping out before he can second-guess it. His gaze drifts to the side, and his fingertips come up almost absentmindedly, dragging across your temple, pushing stray hairs back into their place.
“This life," he continues, barely above a whisper, "it consumes all the good things in my life."
“Not true,” your voice is firm but gentle, like you’re trying to remind him of something he can’t see.
He doesn’t answer immediately, just quirks a skeptical brow at you.
“You have your brother,” you continue, “and you’ve got me. Nothing in this universe can take us from you.”
Dean’s breath catches, and for the briefest moment, he wonders if you understand just how much weight those words hold. He swallows, trying to hold it together, but he can’t ignore the ache that creeps up his spine. He gives a small, almost rueful chuckle, though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. "What makes you so sure?"
You meet his gaze with a steady confidence. "Because I know you wouldn’t let it."
His hand lingers by your face, his thumb brushing softly against the warmth of your cheek. There’s an electricity in the touch, something that feels too close and yet too natural. He can feel the way his pulse quickens, how much his body wants to close that last inch of space between you. But he doesn’t.
You don’t push him. You just watch him, like you’re waiting for him to decide whether to take the step—or to retreat.
Dean’s breath catches in his throat, and his eyes drop to your lips for a moment before meeting yours again, like he’s trying to reconcile the gravity of what he’s feeling. His voice drops to almost a whisper, his words thick with something raw. “You have no idea how right you are, little miss.”
Your hand comes up, curling over his with a quiet, deliberate touch. The softness of your skin against his makes it almost impossible for him to remember the times he’s watched you move through the world—handling a gun with precision or a blade like it’s second nature. Most of you makes him forget, really, about everything that doesn’t involve you in this moment.
Your warmth, your softness, it makes him lose himself in daydreams of a version of you—one that doesn’t belong to this life. A version where you’d lean into that gentleness, the part of you that exists outside the hunts and the danger, in a life far away from the chaos that haunts him.
You shift, sitting up, still keeping your gaze on him, and it makes something in his chest tighten. The determined strain in your features catches his attention immediately. It’s the same look you get when you're deep into a lore book, your brow furrowed with that little scowl—like something has piqued your interest, and you won’t rest until you’ve unraveled it completely.
“Dean, there’s more to this than you’re letting on.”
He shakes his head, trying to brush it off with a quick, dismissive shrug, his lips pouting up into his best attempt at nonchalance. “Nope. That’s pretty much it.”
You let out an exasperated huff, and Dean can tell you’re seeing straight through him. It’s not enough to deflect you. What he doesn’t expect, though, is the rough shove to his shoulder. It makes him blink in surprise, but before he can recover, your fingers press right back into the tension of his muscles he’s been trying to ignore all night.
“You’re as stiff as a board,” you point out, your fingers digging in a little harder. “Something’s bothering you.”
His breath comes out shakier now, and for a moment, his whole body feels like it’s been wound too tight. You can feel it, he knows you can. There’s no denying it now, but the words feel too heavy in his throat. He wants to argue, to brush it off again, but something in the way you’re watching him shifts. It’s not just curiosity anymore—it’s concern. And maybe, just maybe, a part of him wants to let you in.
But damn if it doesn’t feel like a risk.
Dean shifts uncomfortably, trying to pull away, but the pressure of your fingers is a subtle anchor, keeping him there. His gaze flits to the floor, anywhere but your eyes, because once he looks at you, he knows he won’t be able to hide.
"I told you, it's nothing," he mutters, his voice rougher than usual, the words escaping before he can stop them. He tries to push himself up, but the weight of your stare presses him back down.
You don’t buy it. You never do.
"No, Dean," you start softly, the concern clear in your voice, "I know you better than that. Something’s been eating at you for a while, and you’re not gonna keep dodging it."
His chest tightens, his heart racing in his ribcage. Every part of him wants to throw up some wall, some excuse. Something to keep you from seeing the rawness of what’s inside. The vulnerability he’s been running from his entire life.
But still, you watch him, waiting, your eyes steady and unwavering.
"Come on, just let it out," you press, your hand moving to his shoulder again, your touch gentle now but insistent. “You don’t have to carry it all by yourself, you know?”
He swallows hard, his jaw tightening, hands suddenly restless at his sides. The fight inside him is crumbling, piece by piece, until he's barely holding on to whatever's left. His voice comes out strained, almost desperate.
“Please, just drop it,” he grinds out, his eyes briefly meeting yours before flicking away again, helplessly. “I’m fine. You don’t... you don’t need to know all of it.”
You sit forward, leaning in just a little, your hand still gently gripping his arm as you search his face. The determination in your gaze doesn’t waver, but there’s something softer there now, almost like a plea. “Dean—”
He jerks back slightly, suddenly standing up with a bit too much force, the air between you thickening with a tension that’s making it harder for him to breathe. He takes a few steps away, running a hand through his hair, his back turned to you as he tries to calm the storm rising inside.
"I can’t do this," he mutters, his voice low, rougher now, like it’s been dragged over gravel. His shoulders still tense with the weight of the world pressing down on him.
You’re silent for a beat, and he knows it’s because you’re giving him space. But he also knows you won’t stop until you get him to say what he’s been holding back.
He exhales sharply, his hands trembling as he clenches them into fists, his back still turned, fighting a battle he knows he’s losing. "God, I don’t want to talk about this." His voice cracks slightly as he says it, and he hates how much it betrays him.
His eyes flick to you then, and there's a crack in the armor—a vulnerability that’s almost painful to see. He looks at you, but he’s not sure he can bear the weight of your gaze anymore. Not when all he wants to do is keep you safe from the wreckage inside him.
His body is coiled tight, but his chest feels like it’s going to implode. He wants to walk away. He wants to escape from the weight of this conversation, from the way you're looking at him like you’re waiting for him to finally crack open and spill it all out.
But when he finally turns back to face you fully, all he sees is that unflinching patience, that quiet insistence that you’re not going to let him go until he finally says what he’s been hiding for so long. It makes him want to burn every rule he’s built for himself.
"You don't get it," he spats roughly, eyes flicking to the floor. "I can’t just... say it. It’s part of me, it’s who I am, this thing that I can’t get away from."
You rise to your feet, crossing the room in one smooth motion. There’s no anger in your steps—just a calm resolve that cuts through the tension between you like a knife.
"I'm not an idiot, Dean," you peek up at him, unfamilarly timid as you cross this uncharted territory. "I see the way you look at me. Hell, at first I thought I was imagining things but I can see it’s eating you alive. And I—” your words cut off in your own shock at the confession, the sincerity in your expression making his knees weak, “I can’t bear to see you like this.” 
Your hands reach up tentatively, like you’re scared he’ll tear himself away again. But he stills, letting your warm hands press into either side of his jaw, “you’re my rock, alright?” your words trail into a soft laugh, easing the tension of your own truth. “I don’t wanna live in a world where I’m not by your side, because you make life worth the fight to stay alive. But you can’t just keep me in the dark, I have to know what you’re feeling.” 
His breath catches in his throat, the weight of your words hitting him harder than he expected. The realization that you know, that you’ve seen through all his defenses, makes everything inside him ache.
"I don’t know what you want from me," it comes out sounding like a plea, still looking for an excuse to retreat into himself.
"I want you to stop hiding from me." Your words are simple, but they strike right at the heart of the matter. "I want you to stop pretending like you can’t have the one thing you want most."
His throat tightens, and he shakes his head, trying to dismiss it. "I don’t get it," he mumbles, though his eyes are locked on yours, searching for the reprieve he still doesn’t believe he’ll find. "I don’t... I’m not fit for this."
"I’m not either, D. I’m just asking you to let it happen." You’re so close now, he can feel the warmth of your body, the soft pressure of your fingers against his jaw. Your gaze doesn’t break, it never wavers.
And that’s when it hits him. He’s been afraid of this—afraid of the way you make him feel like he can finally breathe, like all of his pain and avoidance can cease in your presence. he’s been holding himself together with tattered shreds for so long, and you’re the only thing that’s strong enough to pull him out of the mess he’s made of himself. 
And letting that security live in someone else terrifies him more than any monster he’s faced. 
“I’m not perfect,” he admits quietly, his words like gravel in his throat. “I’m broken, and I’m scared as hell, but god, if you only knew how much I want—”
You stop him with a soft kiss, the sweetest touch of your lips to his. It's gentle, almost hesitant, but it shatters something inside him, enough to freeze him in place. The weight of everything unspoken presses in, and for the first time, it feels like the walls he's built around himself might finally crumble in your hands.
The chains of his tightly kept composure snap at the delicate pressure of your lips, and without thinking, his arms wrap around you, pulling you closer. His hands find purchase at your waist, holding you as if you were the only thing that kept him grounded. The kiss deepens, desperate, as if he's trying to kiss away the years of holding back, the silent fear of letting you see the real him, the uncertainty of if you’d stay with him in the wreckage.
When you finally pull back, your lips linger just above his, breaths mingling. Your voice is a soft whisper, but it cuts through the tension like a thread being pulled taut. “Then say it, Dean. Tell me what you want.”
His heart beats in his chest, loud and frantic, as his walls come crashing down, piece by piece. He can’t think straight with you in his arms, all of his steely armor melts at your touch. And for the first time in what feels like forever, he lets go of some of those fears.
His eyes are nearly consumed by his pupils as he takes in the sight of you slightly out of breath, lips wet and a little more pink. From his doing, from his touch—it makes every broken rule worth the trouble.
“I've fallen for you, Sweetheart,” he breathes, his voice is raw, shaky, but it's honest, every word carrying the weight of what he’s been holding back. “I want to keep falling for you, love and all that crap. And I’m terrified of it, but I can’t keep hiding this from you.”
Your thumb brushes over his cheek, the gesture soft, but nevertheless, grounding. A quiet smile tugs at the corner of your lips, and your eyes hold nothing but certainty. “You’ll never have to hide any part of yourself, Dean. I’ve been here all along, with nothing but love. Just been waiting for you to see that.”
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tags <3 @titsout4jackles @floralscented @deansbeer @snowluvvie @dulcescorderitas @bluemerakis
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l0s3rd0wnt0wn · 3 days ago
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YOU ONE OF THEM QUEERS???
Yandere Conner Kent x Weird black!reader
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So what if you invited your brother's best friend to watch One Piece with you? He said he never had! What kind of psycho has never watched One Piece? You thought, but then again, the psycho was a test tube baby; he wouldn't know about the amazing run of Disney Channel back in the day, how it used to be, or how hyped everyone was for the Kaido fight with Luffy, or understand the cultural significance of a DBZ movie in theaters. You had to show this little lab rat the greatness of TV. Sure, he knows, but he doesn't know more. I mean, he never rushed home to watch Toonami after school. You had to teach him, and well, your little guinea pig was eager to know. Connor wanted to get closer to you in every way possible—be your best friend, be your favorite superhero, maybe even boyfriend if you catch the hints he's dropping. No, he doesn't just want to play Smash Bros; he wants you guys to be more than tag team buddies, but you'll only see him as something friendly. He calls you "babe," and you hit him with a "bro," you're breaking the poor boy's heart. He holds your waist; you think it's just a friendly gesture. He leans his head on your shoulder, smelling the cocoa butter you spread in your dreads and how it sticks to anything he wears. But to you, "Awe, the little guinea pig is sleepy," you teased, and this was the night you invited him over to the mansion. I mean, there's literally an entertainment room; it would be a shame not to watch the best story created by my man on a freaking projector!
"Wow, you're early; the popcorn ain't even poppin'!" you joked, a coy little smile on your face.
"I like being on time, babe," he smirked back, entering the mansion. "Hey, no boots, mister! This floor is hardwood, and I know you walk around in mud!" you warned, but there was still a playful edge to it.
“Ugh, babe, buy me a drink first before you see my feet!” Conner said with a big grin, and you made a fake gagging sound, causing the two of you to laugh. You took him by the hand and pulled him to the entertainment room.
"So how far are you in One Piece?" you asked. You forced him to watch it, but you couldn't call it force, because he watches it with you, telling him to listen and obey whatever you say. "Don't watch the movie; it's a waste of money." He was looking forward to it, but if you hate it, he hates it too. "Yuck, I hate the comic writer; he retcons almost everything if he can't fit it into a plot." If it's that bad, he won't read their comics.
"This fandom is pretty toxic, but come on, the merch is amazing! I mean, look at these MHA pins; they're too cute!" If you like those pins on your bag so much, then he'll wear a Todoroki pin on his leather jacket to make you smile.
You sat with Conner in the theater; it was the whole Cake Island arc. You were already on Wano, but Conner was new to the game, so you didn't mind going a couple of arcs back for him. His head was laid gently on your shoulder; you felt him sniff you and nuzzle his nose into your neck, which made you giggle.
"Dude, quit staring in. Try to pay attention; this is important for later arcs," you always say, but you're way more important to him.
"You say that every time," Conner huffed.
"Cause it is!" you gave a half-hearted laugh.
You looked down at him, and for some reason, the glowing light of the projector made you look stunning. The blue light cascading on your dark skin made you look so surreal, as if you weren't from this planet.
"Come on, Conner, just pay attention for a minute. I promise it'll be worth your while," you said softly. It felt so intimate, like you guys were in an actual movie theater, and you were like.
"Shhh, baby! We can't make out right now; the fight scene is happening." You're such a dense dork, but oh, it just makes it even better.
"Yeah, I'll pay attention." News flash: he won't. He'll be too busy staring at you and how your face lights up during the fights. His super hearing means he'll still listen, but he'd rather watch you, and maybe later he'll watch a YouTube video explaining the arc.
"God, I wish I were as cool as Sanji. He looks so wicked in that red cape! You know, you should really get a cape like that. I know your whole thing is leather jackets, but come on, you have to try out red. Plus, I heard it makes a person's eyes..." You trailed off as you turned to look at Conner, who had his full attention on you, and, God, it made you blush a slight purple.
"Shit, I'm rambling again. I know you don't want to hear me yap. Good, I feel like such a skeeze-"
"No, you're not," he said softly but firmly. It made you giggle like a schoolgirl.
"What?~" you said, nervously
"I like your voice a lot, baby." Now, when he says it like that, it doesn't feel like a cute little nickname he came up with.
"And I like it especially when you talk about shit you like. You're so passionate about it; you don't see that with regular people. You're so genuine," he continues, getting closer. You turn away, covering your face. God, you're such a dork. He just wants to take you right here and now, but that would be unlawful.
"So what, you think I'm cool or something?" You laughed with a half-hearted smirk.
"I think you're amazing, babe," he answered, grabbing your face to look at him, and you laughed, covering your mouth with your hand. This made Conner laugh too.
"I'm trying to be smooth, and you're laughing at me!" Conner chuckled.
"Smooth? Yeah, right! You're as smooth as the acne on my forehead!" Then you both burst out laughing, your foreheads connecting. "Goofy-ass motherfucker!" you said in between giggles.
"Come on, baby, you know I've moved some; they say I've got rizz~" You pushed Test Baby to the side, snorting.
"Who the hell lied to your bum ass?" you snickered.
"No one!" He protested.
"Uh-huh," you pulled yourself closer to him, wrapping your long arms around his neck. "You have no game."
"You just don't want to admit I'm cooler than you," he quipped.
"In your clone dreams," you snapped playfully.
"You're in my cloned dreams," he said, your face getting uncomfortably close; it made you laugh.
"That shit was corny as hell," and you and Conner giggled some more; he felt your touch ever so gently.
"Can I?"
"Can you?"
He then pressed his lips to yours, and Conner could have sweated as he ascended to another state of being. Your lips tasted like buttered popcorn and cheap soda—something he loved more than anything, especially if that flavor was you. He pulled you closer, his hands wrapping around your slim waist. Your hand was now placed on his cheek as you felt him slowly start to get on top of you, and you let him. And shit, who cares if you're kissing your brother's best friend? He should have called dibs by now.
You gasp for air, but Conner doesn't let you recover. He presses his lips against you hard this time, passionately. He has kissed a whole ton of people before, which gives him the experience you lack. You feel him suck on your tongue, and you whimper just a little, shivering. Is this how it feels to kiss? ‘Cause if it is, God fucking bless! You feel his gloved hand reach underneath your Wonder Man hoodie. You grab his arm and pull away. He hears the great Superboy whine like a puppy, and it makes you snicker just a little. Your hand that was on his cheek moves to his now swollen lips.
"Kon, pay attention; this part is important. This is when Luffy fights Katakuri, and we get to see his Devil Fruit," you whispered against his lips. Da fuck? You stopped good kissing and touching for an anime fight??
Your lucky he thinks your hot.
(Made this one while listening to chapple roan God I love that little lesbian)
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taelophone · 2 days ago
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Frat Boys & Parties ˙⟡ — A tutorial. ⋆⭒˚。⋆ "How do I write a Frat Party?"
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Ok, so as a luigi girlie, I want you guys to understand how to write our frat boy correctly !! Heres a lil walkthru of a frat party! The good, bad, and the gross lol
!DISCLAIMER! Not every frat is the same, but these are some common themes ive seen after about 4-5 crashes at diff brotherhoods lol
1. The Party
Ok, so this is a p self explanatory part. What is a frat party like, and what are some common misconceptions.
The most common one i see is that there’s some sort of “guest list” or that in order to get into a frat, you have to come with a brother. This isn’t true…at all. You will be LET IN for being a woman, as long as they find you “attractive” (I did say the bad would be included). Frat parties are usually not invite only, and if they are it’s usually a brother thing. It’s actually harder to get into a frat as a man, as their main goal is as many chicks in the house AS POSSIBLE. If you come with ONE dude as ONE chick, you will separated if he’s not a brother lol. They won’t let him in.
If you do go with a man, please bring at least 3-4 friends. There needs to be a ratio lol.
Now how do you even get into a frat? Simple! Word of mouth, socializing, etc. if you have even one friend that’s a social butterfly, you will more than likely be aware of when different frats are hosting. There is usually NO invite system.
You can make a character that’s known to be social, you can be the social friend, etc etc. But honestly its not difficult if you have even a slightly small friend group.
2. What It’s like
You can always tell when someone hasn’t been to a frat by the way they talk about them. They are very VERY gross😭 You will be uncomfortable, the music is painfully loud and shitty, the tables are sticky, everyone smells sweaty, and you will get hit on and very potentially harassed. This is why it’s wiser to come with a male friend and 4-5 girlfriends. It’s not wise to be at a frat alone or just with one girl. Remember, the goal is ALWAYS going to be getting you drunk.
Write about the stickiness of the floor, how humid the room feels, the constant jostling of bodies, and the people around you. The party will feel less realistic and flat if there’s no small dialogue. For example, bumping into people.
“Excuse me, sorry!” A random girl squeaked, a drunken smile on her face as she squeezed past, her pupils the size of dinner plates.
Or if you’re feeling a little more frat-boy motivated, write a brief interaction with a brother.
“Hey…you havin’ fun? Yeah, my dude Jacob put this party together. He’s kind of an asshole, cuz he made me do all the planning, but it’s whatever.”
If your character is more reserved and tends not to drink, the night will be uncomfortable for them. One way I like to show discomfort or emphasize the grotesque is use “gross” imagery. Compare the actions and surroundings of your character to formally uncomfortable topics and ideas. Remember, imagery is a GREAT tool! Use it to make your advantage and make your readers skin crawl!!
“The crowd around you wiggled and thrashed like a hoard of hungry maggots attacking at a piece of rotten fruit, the bitter and stale taste of the cheap beer serving as their stimulant in the ghostly night.”
And on the topic of beer, it’s ALWAYS cheap. It’s free, so why are you complaining? Complaining about the drinks is usually a no no lmfao😭 make sure to include that in as well! I can’t give you any brands to go off of cuz it’s different at every party I’ve been to, but it’s usually NEVER any high quality shit. No Heineken, no Bud Lite, no Miller.
Cheap beer tastes literally like scorching expired fruit. It has the stalest taste ever. It’s DISGUSTING. I need to emphasize this so YOU can emphasize it in your writing. Alcohol burns! It hurts to chug, it hurts to sip, it’s “spicy”. This is another opportunity to use allusion and imagery in your writing. Talk about how it feels like flames going down, or how it bites at the flat part of your tongue and stings your nose.
Now, if your character is a little bit more open to drinking, slowly begin to go from “gross” imagery or themes of discomfort into fantasy and “wonderland-esque” imagery.
You’ll have more fun at a frat if you’re not sober, and that’s the tea. Monitor how much your character is drinking, and how she should be reacting in this state! I break it up into a couple of levels.
Buzzed.
Tipsy
Sloppy
Blackout
At buzzed, your character should slowly begin to get more social. She’s giggly, happy, and a little more relaxed but still very in tune with her surroundings. Spend more time in the party than you will in her mind. At this point, she’s thinking a little bit less, so try to cut a little bit of monologue.
At tipsy, she’s getting loose-lipped and courageous. Talking to strangers, dancing with a brother she’s never met, pursuing the goal she had originally come to the party for (if she has one), and a little bit less aware. She may lose her friends in the sea of people, but she’s overall still fine.
At SLOPPY, she’s becoming a bit of a nuisance. She’s getting loud, bumping into people a bit harder than usual, has no concept of personal space, and is a yap machine. She’s talking so much, and is stumbling and laughing at anything. Or, quite the contrary, she’s crying and sitting on the floor. Depends on who she is.
At Blackout, she’s slowing down. Her words are drastically slurred, so be prepared to ignore your grammarly. She’s stumbling through people, likely trying to find a place to sit down, the lights are way brighter than they actually are, and she might even throw up.
THISSS is how you write being drunk! It varies from person to person, because I am unfortunately a flirty and energetic drunk, but this is a baseline to work with.
The more your character drinks, the more their headspace should reflect this feeling. Some words like floaty, tingly, euphoric, giddy, etc should suffice. I even like to compare it to space because sometimes it do be feeling like zero gravity😔
do we want a part 2 with how to write actual Frat boys? Cuz it seems not many of us have encountered them irl…(it’s better that way trust.)
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satancopilotsmytardis · 3 days ago
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Wolf!Tomura being allowed basic freedom for once and immediately getting into body mods, so he appears at bunny!Dabis shop (a very pretty and very modded bunny), and gets his ears pierced, and then he gets a tattoo, and them he realises that he has a crush on the cute bunny so he gets some more piercings and tattoos to get to know the other more (Dabi also has a massive crush, he is just ignoring it cause of self-worth issues) and then he decideds to get a dick piercing, cause he knows Dabi likes them in partners of the past, and Tomura wants him to enjoy himself so much when they finally finally fuck (Also he gets off a little on the pain)
Dabi was willing to ride the man right there on the table when he saw the size of Tomura's cock, but he had to be professional through the entire process, he somehow succeeded and then goes home to try and find a toy that will match the size of the dick he just saw.
They end up fucking once the dick piercing is healed, Tomura was the last appointment of the day and Dabi came to work prepared, streached out and lubed up. They also manage to get themselves into a functional relationship afterwards.
HOT! Oh, I love the idea of Wolf!Tomura being just so down bad for the cute bunny that he keeps getting tattoos and piercings. But I've got to inject some of my favorite wolf/bunny treats too:
Tomura is, supposedly, just the son of a major CEO. In actuality, of course, he's gearing up to take over the criminal underground in Japan. Dabi is the self-exiled son of a police chief, whose cadet brother has recently gotten in contact with him because there have been some strange bodies turning up that seem to be from illegal farming, and a few of them have tattoos Shoto was hoping he might be able to look at and help identify the artists so the police can get a better chance as tracking down the names of the victims from what's left of the skin.
Tomura is having his rebellious phase, Dabi is being obstinate, and they don't exactly hit it off, but the attraction is immediate. Tomura starts getting the tattoos and piercings but always seems to heal more quickly than Dabi expects. Shoto keeps him looped in on the case, and he finds out the victims had traces of an experimental drug in their system that makes them heal much faster so that they could be butchered more than once. Dabi puts two and two together and still wants to get railed by the wolf who might eat him alive, more than once, if he really is the mastermind behind that organization. And after Tomura gets his dick piercings, Dabi tells him that his heat is going to start in a few days, but he'll want to see him for a follow-up appointment before then.
It's an invitation, and Tomura comes back, fully healed, in three days' time and absolutely ruins his cute bunny's hole. Dabi has his confirmation about who owns the farm that his brother is investigating then, but that dick (and he supposes the wolf it's attached to) is too good to give up now, and he turns a blind eye as he starts to work on the next piece the other man wants: a full sleeve with a wolf chasing a rabbit through whirls of smoke and fog, a red string leashing them together.
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livfastdieyoung69 · 1 day ago
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OH OH YK WHAT I NEED BAD? KO SIBLING X CODY OOOOO I NEED IT I NEEDDDD IT
NEW BEGINNINGS
(Cody Rhodes x Non-described!Owens!Reader, can be read as adopted or not)
Anger issues and complaining runned in the Owen’s family. It was what your family did, most of you on the side, but your brother, he did it for his literal career. Like seriously, Kevin just complained for a living- he got on a microphone and yelled. As jealous as you were, it wasn’t your gimmick unfortunately. The two of you grew up side by side, falling in love with wrestling together, and eventually even growing in the business together. Though you had pretty similar styles, Kevin loved being in the WWE and everything he stood for there, and you loved being in TNA, and all of the accomplishments you’ve made in the company.
Though you were on separate paths, whenever they happened to cross, you’d sit down and have lunch, or dinner, or whatever else you could manage and do what Owens’ did best- complain together.
“How’s working with all of the Bloodline guys, still?” You ask after taking a gulp from your soda. Before you can even finish, he’s rolling his eyes and groaning with a mouthful of cheeseburger.
“Still fucking terrible. There’s more of them! Like an endless amount, they just keep popping up out of nowhere, and the more that come, the crazier they fucking get,” His exasperated sound makes you laugh. “I’m serious!”
You shake your head while he takes another massive bite out of his burger.
“Who’d you just work with? Uh, what’s his name? That woo woo woo guy? Zak Ryder!” You nod, taking a bite of your own food after muttering the ‘You Know It’ part of the catchphrase.
“He’s Matt Cardona now- that’s his actual name. He’s a nice guy…a lot, but nice. Like so much, really, all smiles and enthusiasm all the time. When Chelsea won the title, he brought a replica the next day and everyone thought it was the real one.”
This was how it usually went- catch up through each others feuds and how annoying everyone else was, and eventually the chatter would die down and you’d eat for a little, and then someone would pick up an actual conversation. The only problem here though, was there was one more feud of Kevins you were trying to avoid, but it was kind of hard. He was a massive deal in the company and a massive part of Kevins life right now.
“I know what you’re doing.” Kevin states causally, leaning back in his chair after starting on his fries.
“What?” You try to laugh it off, but you don’t look up from your own plate.
“Cody. You don’t wanna ask me about him.”
“….I just figured you’d want to keep your mind off it with the match at the Royal Rumble coming up.” You try, but he shakes his head. That was still in a couple weeks.
“Dude. I know you’re a fan- you literally still have the shirt from when he did the Dashing thing years ago. You liked Stardust, you know who else liked Stardust? No one.“
“Okay, I get it, you don’t have to publicly shame me about it. You can complain about everyone else, that’s my exception.” The two of you are quick to go back to silence while you try to finish your meal, and he chugs down another soda. The man ate ridiculously fast, nothing could stop him.
“You know,” He broke the quiet again. “You would really like WWE. Paul keeps bugging me about talking to you.”
“So you’ve told me,” You shrug. “I don’t know. TNA’s my home at this point, I can’t imagine leaving.” A laugh rips through you at a sudden thought and he nods his head for you to continue. “Maybe, maybe if you got Cody to ask-“ His eyes close with a sigh, and he immediately starts shaking his head, which only makes you laugh harder.
“Don’t push it.”
That had been about a week ago. You’d both gone back to your regularly scheduled program, him on Fridays and you on Thursdays. His feud with Cody continued, with a whole bunch of shit happening over there, and you moved on to work with other TNA superstars. After another long Thursday night you’re ready to conk out from the very fun, but tiring, on top of the night of wrestling, celebration with Joe Hendry for his new, recent title win (you’d already given your condolences to Nic).
As soon as your head hits the pillow, your phone rings. And you know it’s Kevin because you had set his theme song for his ringtone.
“What’s wrong?” You answer on the first ring. It’s late, and this is unusual, the first thing your mind goes to is that something happened.
“Did you see the news?”
“What fucking news Kevin, you’re freaking me out-“
“WWE and TNA signed a contract, anyone can go anywhere,” He rushes out, your name following it. “Anyone can go anywhere.”
You aren’t even sure what to say, and the phone line goes quiet while you stammer before Kevin interrupts.
“I gave Paul your number- he wants you in the Rumble.”
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And now, here you were. This was fucking crazy! Of the entire TNA roster, you, Joe Hendry, and Jordynne Grace had been picked to join the Royal Rumble. Everything was so different here, you could see why Kevin liked it. Everything reminded you of him, and to be able to see him this much was so great. You traveled together, for the first time since your teenage years, and with all of the excitement you felt that young again too.
The Guerrilla was packed. It was great to see people you had worked with in the past, like Naomi and AJ Styles, but it was also great to meet new faces. Maxxine Dupri was the nicest person you had ever met, and so pretty. And you finally got to meet Chelsea! She wanted to keep in touch in case Matt tried to take her actual belt next time, apparently she hadn’t known he bought the replica.
Right now, the women’s rumble was seconds from kicking everything off so it was mostly women in the area, but a couple guys were wandering around too. Joe Hendry had stayed near you, which both of you were thankful for, he was actually a pretty shy guy behind cameras and you hated being alone around so many people. Jordynne and Naomi were a lot more acquainted than you were with her, so they snuck off to the side to have a chat.
The match was quick to begin with Iyo Sky and Liv Morgan before others started to quickly fill in. Your number was later on, you’d gotten 22. You didn’t want to be so late, and had tried to fight Paul about it but he was adamant the crowd would be excited, plus you had enough spots behind you to stay in for a while. The crowd started to wear out in Geurilla, and eventually you found yourself in the small room everything led to, with about ten other entrants, Maxxine had just went through the curtain at number 14.
“So,” Kevin strolls up from behind you with a bowl of something from catering. “I don’t want to hear a single word of this. But I called in a favor.” Your eyebrows furrow as you turn to him, and he holds up a hand. “Not a word.” And then he walks out. What the fuck?
You don’t have time to think about that anyways, now you’re wishing Jordynne (number 19) good luck as the buzzer rushes. After her, is the great return of Alexa Bliss, who is granted the biggest pop so far, which Zelina Vega follows, and then all that’s left in front of you is the grey curtain covering the biggest opportunity you’ve received in your life.
That was both the longest and shortest minute and a half of your entire life, but when the crowd counts down, and the buzzer rings out, and your music starts playing, you’ve never heard anything louder. You fight to your last breath, and then you keep fighting. You make it pass Nia Jax’s mass elimination, and lots of other attempts, and somehow, its just you and Charlotte Flair. You give it your best, but the nerves get the best of you, and Charlotte ends up throwing you over the rope.
As disappointed as you are, you made it farther than you could’ve dreamed of, and as the fans yell for your attention while you walk back up the ramp, you can’t help but be proud. You walk through the curtain to find your fellow (past, and present) TNA stars cheering you on, and you’re too busy taking the praise with embarrassment and a shy gaze to the ground, that you don’t notice Kevins favor until you’re snapping a picture with HHH for media.
In all of his glory, standing directly across from you all the way across the room, is Cody Rhodes. Clapping. And staring at you, with that one smile. Y’know, the one, the Dashing Cody Rhodes shit eating grin.
“Oh my God, Kevin,” You mutter under your breath when the pictures are over and you can turn away. “What the fuck. Kevin. What the fuck.” Kevin is no where in sight, and Paul is laughing at you so hard.
“Heard you’re a pretty big fan,” You can hear him approaching from behind you and there’s nothing else you can do but face him and hope not to embarrass yourself any further.
“I’d say I’m an avid watcher, if that’s what you’d like to consider me, yes.” He’s still grinning at you like that, and it’s making this so much harder. The rest of the room is funneling out.
“Oh, okay, okay. Just a big Stardust fan, then?” Your lips purse into a fine line when you find you have no explanation.
“How much did he tell you, exactly?” God, you’re never coming back to this company ever again. Only to get back at Kevin for this. He shrugs.
“I’m just teasing, don’t worry,” His grin relaxed, and suddenly he looks more like the American Nightmare Cody, and his hand is resting on your shoulder. “I’m a pretty big fan, too. You were great out there.”
“Oh, I tried my best, thanks,” Your face is heating up again, and you try to push it off.
“Really, you were great. I hope I get to see you around some more.” You still can’t find any words, and the room seems to be getting hotter by the second. “Or, out of it either. Not to be this straight forward, and feel free to tell me to back off, but if you’re around tomorrow, I’d love to take you to dinner or something.”
“Uhm, uh-“ I’m between your sputtering you find yourself laughing. “You’re about to go fight to the death with my brother.” He laughs, looking down at his ring gear, and nods his head, because yes, he’s going to go beat the shit out of your brother.
“I’m guessing that’s a back off?” He looks back up through his eyelashes with the grin that makes you melt.
“No, no, please, bring him to hell and back.” You grin back, before nodding shyly. “Dinner would be great.” Before you have the chance to keep talking, Pauls calling him over, and he gives you an apologetic look and tells you somehow, he’ll get ahold of you before he rushes over to HHH. Kevin comes in shortly after, and laughs at you with no clue that his worst enemy thinks your fine as hell, and that you’re going to go chase Jey Uso down for his phone number. You sit in the Guerrilla for just a second longer and watch them both disappear behind the curtain before you run off to take a shower, and text everybody you’ve ever known that Cody Fucking Rhodes just asked you out.
Maybe you would be coming back to WWE a couple more times.
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Wow look at me goooo it feels like its been so long since i wrote for Cody (prolly cuz it has been)
I’m hungry, sick, and tired but I’m ignoring all of my problems and sat down during raw and couldn’t stop so here you go ig
Enjoy this you probably wont get much more from me this month but im gonna try my best i think the seasonal depression hit me mostly last month but its supposed to snow on Wednesday so that’s when we’ll really see
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slimybeth69 · 2 days ago
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Que Será, Será: Part 9
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Rating: Explicit- Smut, violence, drinking/drug use. MDNI!!
Summary: It's almost twenty years after some weird outbreak almost happened but the CDC took care of that...Now you're living in Austin, Texas as an adult.What happens when you meet Joel Miller who hasn't been hardened and ruined by twenty years of murder and loss?Warnings/Tags: DaddyDom!Joel/ you. no use of y/n. No physical description of the reader besides one tattoo. Reader has a background story. Drinking/drug use. Slow burn. Smut. Angst. Cheating. Graphic depictions of violence. Eventual loss of virginity. Use of nicknames/pet names (lil girl, baby girl.) DD/lg dynamics. BDSM play.
Unbeta'ed. WIP. Cross-posting from my Ao3.Chapter
Warnings: drinkings, bar fights, reader gets injured, Joel is a DICK. SMUT!! SO MUCH!!! IT'S HAPPENING EVERYONE. IT'S HAPPENING.
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It’s been two weeks since your little drinking, spanking, shopping and swapping shenanigans. Joel (your boyfriend) has spent the night at least…nine or ten times and each time he brings you something. Four times it was flowers, another time he brought dinner. The next night he brought you sex toys. Real sex toys and didn’t even ask to watch you use them. Just left them on your bedside table before he left for work and then kissed you goodbye while you slept. 
He doesn’t ask you to come over after you said you feel bad about leaving your brand new cat. Who is…perfect and sweet. She is a snuggly baby and just wants love and scratches. She looooves Joel. Meows at him all the time and he acts annoyed by it but you know he loves it. He’s so nice and sweet to her. Picks her up and puts her in his lap when he thinks you aren’t looking. He just wants to pet her and be nice to her. 
It’s going to be awkward if and when Sam and Cody ever come home. Another grown man…older than both of them sleeping in their basement? Awesome. Sam–if she ever gets better– is going to lose her mind that this man is twenty years older than you. She’s also going to have a sarcastic mouth and say something about him being old enough to be your dad and… Joel doesn’t like that very much. Not at all, actually. So. 
You guys get it…more than you would think. People are just openly telling you and your dad to have a great day. Enjoy your meal. Have fun. Why are people okay with outwardly assuming the older gentleman you’re with is your dad? Huh? Weird. Joel does not let go of your hand or your ass everywhere you go because he hates it so much. It’s been a struggle.
But not enough to make him not wanna see you anymore.
Joel is taking you to the bar tonight to meet Tommy, his brother. Your boyfriend (never gets old) told you that you’ve probably seen Tommy before. He comes into the store too. You're racking your brain of every man who has ever come through your line before. Ones that look like Joel? None. Maybe. You dunno. You see so many guys all day long. 
Tommy recognizes you though. Sure does. 
“You rejected me a couple months ago.” Tommy snickers softly as he shakes your hand. “But you’ll date my asshole older  brother? I see. I see you.” Tommy gives you the universal – index and middle fingers pointed at his eye then to yours– motion that says ‘I see you’. It’s fine. You do not care. Joel is your type and Tommy is no Joel. 
Tommy is alright though. You’re shocked you turned him down as you all sat at a booth near the back of the bar with drinks. His hair is longer, shoulder length and darker than Joel’s. Mustache and a goatee. He never asked for your number… He’s lying. Maybe. 
“You like Austin?” Tommy sips on his beer after he asks. 
“It’s alright. I liked living in Jersey. I didn’t really wanna move. It was just hard finding a job up there…but it was just as hard down here.” You snort and take a sip of your drink as Joel relaxes. He said in the car he was sore and he needed a massage later. You would give him one in hopes he would fuck you. He still hasn’t. It’s fine. You’re not upset about it. 
“Hardware store treat you good? Joel told me ‘bout your truck and your computer. Sucks. Sorry.” Tommy seems like a nice guy. 
“They’re nice to me. Give me the same schedule that I like. Don’t make me work late. I don’t love it, but I don’t hate it.” You shrug your shoulders. “Do you like working with Joel?” You feel a gentle and slow moving hand on your bare thigh, Joel’s hand under the skirt of your sundress.. A comforting touch. 
“S’alright. All I’ve ever done. I started right after I graduated high school— did that early.” Tommy smiles at himself proudly. 
“That’s fuckin’ cool. Did you do any night classes or anything like that to go to college smarty pants?” You tease him nicely. He chuckles and shakes his head. 
“Nooo. Stayed here and just worked for this miserable fuck. Probably will for the rest of his life.” Tommy jokes and Joel rolls his eyes. 
“I’m fuckin’ retiring soon. Fuck that shit. You take over. You do this shit.” He grumbles and sips his beer. 
“I’ll take over, shiiit. Been waiting to hear those words.” Tommy shakes his head in a sense of disbelief and excitement and is smiling. It’s a cute brother interaction and it’s good to see that they’re close. Tommy doesn’t actually hate him you don’t think. So that’s good. Joel is moving his hand all up and down your leg and moving it in towards your inner thigh, squeezing you tightly with his rough fingers. 
“I’m thinkin’ next year or two. Nothin’ too long.” Joel sounds reassuring to Tommy. 
“I’ll believe it when I see it.” Tommy rolls his eyes and finishes his beer. “Y’all want another?” You and Joel both say yes and as soon as Tommy is out of earshot, Joel leans in and whispers in your ear. 
“Open your legs.” Then he kisses you on the cheek and leans back against the booth. You open your legs slowly and Joel doesn’t tease or anything, he's inside your panties and he slides one thick, stiff finger through your folds, pulls his hand from under your dress and offers his finger that was just trailing up your other set of lips. You open your mouth and he smears your juices on your tongue, withdraws his finger and then sucks it clean with his mouth. “Close ‘em.” Joel nudges your knee with his under the table and you snap them shut as Tommy walks up. 
They start to talk and you have no time to talk to him about what he just did. In public! Indecency!! Getting arrested?? He had scared you in the parking lot when he said you could get arrested!! No thank you. Your back is sweating from that. Kinda hot… 
“Hey,” Joel nudges you with his elbow and drags you back to the bar and out of fucking thinking about becoming a registered offender for Joel. You’re being spoken to and not responding. Tommy is asking you something. 
“Did you go to school?” 
“Um, for a little bit and then I found a job I loved and didn’t wanna go. Wasn’t going…” You chuckle that last part nervously. “Partied a little and just would sleep through class. Wasting money.” You shrug your shoulders. You can feel Joel’s eyes on you but you don’t look up at him. 
“Damn. I went to a couple of college parties. Fuckin’ pretty wild shit happenin’ there.” Tommy is doing nothing to help your case. 
“Dumb shit.” You snort and avoid the quizzical eyes that that are being given to you by your boyfriend. You left out the parties when he asked. Dunno why you said anything tonight. Idiot. 
“Hell yeah. Saw some wild shit…” Tommy’s eyes are flicking between you and Joel and he’s smirking. “Your man over there know what kinda wild shit you was gettin’ into?” He snickers into his beer glass. 
“I wasn’t getting into any wild shit. Just drinking too much.” You roll your eyes and finally look up at Joel who is just… lookin’ at you. “I wasn’t gettin’ into wild shit!” You exclaim and he smirks. 
“Sure.” Then he goes back to talking to Tommy. 
“Hey, I’ll be right back” You stand to go to the bathroom after letting Joel know and try and find it in this maze of a bar. You find it a minute later. You look nice tonight. Did your make up all pretty and actually did something pretty with your hair. You're happily looking at yourself in the mirror and two girls walk in– pretty girls. They look at you. You look at them. It’s quiet for two seconds. 
“I love your dress!” One of them exclaims excitedly. They fawn over your simple navy blue dress. It’s knee length. Nothing fancy but they hype you up in the bathroom and make you feel so nice. What a good drunk girl bathroom experience. You’re on cloud nine walking back to the booth when chaos erupts beside you at the bar. You have no time to scramble away before the tall bar chairs are being knocked over and hitting you in the legs. It hurts! People start shouting–
“Fuck you– stupid fucking pussy bitch. You won’t do shit. You fucking wont”
“Fuckin’ lets go outside. Fight me outside pussy. One-on-one. Me n’ you, fucker.” 
They do not wait and are throwing punches so quickly and moving so fast. You are overtaken by them and do not even realize what is happening as you take elbows and maybe a fuckin’ fist to the eye!? What was that!? Jeeeesus that hurt– whatever the fuck it was– but it doesn’t stop! They are fighting and now more people from the bar are jumping in to fight or break it up. 
Soft, small hands are on yours and pulling you out of the way but someone falls and breaks your grip and now you’re stumbling backwards towards more fighting men and now, fighting women. They aren’t asking who is involved. Just throwing punches and you take one to the left tit and someone kicks you in the back of the thigh!! What the fuck!! Now, you’re mad and you are also fucking punching and kicking people. What the fuck!? Who just doesn’t let the girls get outta the way first??? 
One of the two original guys is on the ground, and he definitely hit you or elbowed you (on accident, but still). You give him two good stomps to the shoulder for whatever he did to you and then… you get a real punch to the face. The fist is big, feels like a boulder against your skull. There is so much force behind it. You're stunned. One that sends you into tunnel vision and it’s blurry and you’re in pain. Real pain. None of that other shit hurt like this. Hoooly shit. Your eye is on fire. It might have fucking fallen out. Jeeeeus. You're stumbling away, almost falling down to the ground. More people are on top of you. You are fighting them off of you. 
You're trying to stand up in this mob of people and your hand gets stepped on and it hurts. Your dress is all hiked up to your stomach. The bar floor is sticky and there are hands on you. Not even trying to be groping or touching you the way they are, they're just as desperate to get out of this sea of hot, sweating bodies. Finally, you're on your knees and someone pushes you forward into someone another girl. You've never seen her before, and now the eye that hurt before it's stinging and you can barely see out of it. You see out of your good eye that she is getting ready to fight you for slamming into her, she has her first cocked back but you beat her to it, you slam your closed fist right between her eyes and now, the hand that has been stepped on and now punched into someones skull-- sends fire to your brain. More new pain as you push yourself to your feet while still being all jostled around.
More small, soft, girly hands are on yours immediately pulling you out of the way. It’s one of the girls from the bathroom. She is all messed up too, her hair and make up. Missing one of her fake eyelashes. Over her shoulder you have just enough time to see Joel with his hand around the throat of some guy, you hope the one who hit you and is pinning him to the wooden bar. Joel’s other fist is cocked back and he sends it forward. You can’t watch but you can hear it. Hear his fist connecting with that guy’s face. 
Fuck. Your face hurts real bad. Guy’s hands are on you but you already know they are not Joel’s so you start to push them off you angrily but Tommy’s voice is in your ear.
“Joel wants me to get you out of here.” Tommy is shouting over the commotion and noise and the screaming. It’s so loud. You’re still wincing as the guy Joel is holding to the bar starts to fight back. Tommy is leading you out of the bar through the fire exit and an alarm goes off but outside it’s finally… not chaos. 
“Shit! You okay!?” Tommy takes your face in his hands and inspects your eye. There is a comfort behind his touch that brings tears to your eyes before he brings ones of pain to them!
“I’m fine. It just— shit! Don’t fuckin' touch it!” You snap at him when he runs his hand over whatever is causing you pain. He pulls his hand away and there is blood on his thumb. “Is that my blood?!” You exclaim and bring one hand to your eye and the pain is coming from high on your upper lid near the outer edge of your brow. Stinging, burning and dull throbbing. Blood on your fingers!! You don’t have your purse or phone or anything. It’s all inside. Your hurt eye is still stinging. So bad. You have blood in your eye and it hurts! So badly! Where is your boyfriend!? Why is his brother taking care of you!? 
People come pouring out of the bar from every door. You and Tommy are looking for Joel for so long before he comes out of the bar… looking really angry. He’s got your bag, jacket and phone in his hand but he’s pointing at you accusingly shouting at you before he is even close enough for you to hear him but he keeps yelling until you can.
“Grow the fuck up!” He barks at you loudly. “Fightin’ at the bar? Really?!” He shouts at you and you’re so confused. As Joel gets closer, Tommy steps between the two of you like Joel… might do something if he didn’t. 
“I wasn’t fighting!!” You shout back at him. 
“I fuckin’ saw you!! Throwing fuckin’ fists! Ya fuckin’ serious!?” Joel is still pointing at you but over Tommy’s shoulder. Tommy keeps trying to talk to Joel who looks so fucking angry at you, but Joel keeps moving his head to see you. Joel has blood on his knuckles but his face is fucking fine so why is he yelling at you!? He was fighting too!
"You were fighting!! I saw you!!" You shout at him with more tears rolling down your face. Joel erupts-- pushing Tommy away, stumbling backwards until he regains his balance and get's between you and Joel again
"Beating up the fucker that pushed you!! For you to turn around and punch that fuckin' lady!" Joel screams at you. "She do that to you!? GOOD! S'whatchya get for fighting!" 
“A guy punched me–” You sob as tears roll down your cheeks, trying to explain yourself but he doesn’t let you finish. 
“Shut the fuck up! Grow—” Joel stops mid sentence and takes you in, really looks at you for the first time since he came outside. See's how badly you're beat  “A guy hit you!? Who!? Which fuckin’ one!?.” Joel is twisting his head around looking for whoever did it to you.
“Duh!!!! You fucking asshole!” You shout at him. “I don’t know who did it!! I got fucking punched in the face!!” You’re screaming a little and storm off towards his truck. You hear a scuffle behind you and look over your shoulder and now Tommy and Joel are fighting. Tommy is trying to get Joel to give you a minute, or Joel himself a minute to cool down. Joel is not letting it happen, shoving his brother in the chest, talking shit– being an asshole. You don’t even care if they fight. Fuck this. You keep going towards the truck until you hear the sound no one wants to hear. 
An expensive phone dropping on a hard surface. Pavement in this case. You close your eyes and keep walking because you already know it was yours and it’s probably broken and you can’t think about it. Won’t.You’re still sobbing as you get to Joel’s truck.
This night didn’t happen. 
Your face says a different story in the side mirror of Joel's truck. There is evidence that it did happen. You’re black and blue on your right eye and have an inch long laceration right below your eyebrow. Bleeding. Dripping down the side of your face– which is numb– and down your chin and onto your pretty dress. Your hand is all black and blue. You inspect the back of your thigh and it is also, black and blue. With a red shoe print right In the middle. You sob softly against the car and just want Joel to take you home and never talk to you again. 
The truck unlocks while you’re standing against the door. You open it before Joel has the chance to do it for you and climb in. You don’t even look at him when he gets in. He just sits next to you silently for so long. Feels like an hour of him just listening to you cry. 
“I'm sorry. Jus' slipped outta my hand. I’ll getchya a new one tomorrow. Better one.” He murmurs softly. “N’ I’m sorry fer’ yelling at you. Tellin' ya t'shup up.” He reaches over the console now to touch your shoulder but you pull away, still crying. “I am sorry. I was just mad n’ all fuckin’.. I dunno. Just...” 
“Just fuckin’ yellin' at me.” You sob. “I’m bleeding!” You turn to him and show him the blood on your face that he can clearly see. He nods and leans over the console to inspect it. You let him, let him touch your chin gently in his fingers to turn your head so you'll look at him. His other hand pulls the skin above your eyebrow up so he can inspect how deep the wound is. It hurts when he does that so you whimper and clench your eyes shut. He sucks his teeth softly and sadly. 
“I’m gonna take you to the hospital. Y'need stitches.” he leans in and steals a gentle kiss before you can stop him, you honestly, don't even want to. "I am sorry. So sorry." He murmurs against your lips with desperation in his tone. He has your blood on his cheek when he pulls away– and you mindlessly wipe it off with your thumb, and then feel fucking stupid for caring about that when he didn't care to begin with. "I really am.” He starts the truck and drives towards the emergency room. You say nothing.
You need six stitches. Joel is driving you home two hours later in silence. You don’t even have a phone to look at. Smashed to fuck. Because your boyfriend is an asshole. Neither one of you say anything until he pulls into your driveway. 
“So…I’m not leavin’...” Joel starts to explain, you try and argue with him but he narrows his eyes on yours and it silences you. “I had a lil plan fer’ tonight… n’ it looks like yer’ too mad at me for that to happen–” Joel is still talking but you don’t even really hear him. You speak over him. He keeps talking and you tune back into what he is saying. "--leavin'. I don't gotta sleep in yer' bed. I'll stay on the couch but we're talkin' 'bout this tomorrow. We have to. I gotta buy you a new phone..." He trails off shaking his head in shame for himself for acting the way he did. 
“You were gonna… fuck me tonight?” You scoff and squint your eye at him. The other one is a lil swollen. Joel nods and shrugs his shoulders.
“I thought it’d be fun, have a couple drinks… loosen up a lil. Fuck you all night. 'Cause I know ya really want it. Yer' excited for it. Not nervous n' shy.” Joel looks down at his hands as he speaks. 
“That an excuse to get you inside?” You ask softly. Joel shakes his head. 
“I been knew we were gon’ do this tonight. Couple days ago-- when we decided to have you meet Tommy.” Joel chuckles. “Fuckin’ shoulda just done it a long time ago.” He scoffs softly like he is annoyed with himself. “Was gon’ have you wear that lil white thang I got you. Was gonna fuckin'... defile you in that thang.” He turns his head to look at you and frowns. “I don’t wanna leave, Bird. I wanna talk 'bout it. Don't gotta do nothin'. Talk in the mornin'?” He pleads with you softly and quietly. 
“I don't need to talk about it. I have one thing to say." You look at him with the most honest, and innocent eyes you have because you are. You're a nice girl who doesn't fight at the bar. You want to be a good girl for him but, not if this is the kind of person he's going to be to you. "If you ever yell at me like that again…you’ll never get a chance to apologize for it. I mean it.” You snap at him and open the door to his truck and jump down. Your door isn’t even shut before Joel is beside you. He lets you lead him to the front door and watches you unlock it, his hands on your waist. 
“I’m sorry. I'll be better. I will.” Joel whispers in to your ear as he trawls his hands along your sides and over your stomach. Once the door is open, the front of one of his thighs press against the backs yours and he pushes your leg into the house slowly, and then does it with the other as he walks you into the entryway. “Sorry.” He whispers once more against the nape of your neck as his hands roam across the front of you. 
“I know.” You lean back against his chest and now he pulls you into him, kissing your skin softly. “I’m still mad though!” You pull away from him but he holds you against him and speaks quickly to stop your pushing and fighting hands on his arms around you.
“You should be.” It's spoken firmly against the crook of your neck and makes you stop fighting him. “I get.. I dunno– seein' you get pushed by that guy... I got fuckin' scared. N' then I turn around n' see you fighting? I got mad. Like an asshole-- I say shit I don’t mean.” He sounds ashamed. 
“S’why your wife left?” You ask sharply and are not even scared because if he gets mad again, he can fuckin’ leave. 
“Partially.” Joel sighs. “She was just as bad, Bird.” Joel holds his arms out from behind you and twists them in each direction so you can see all those scars. “Not from workin’.” Joel kisses your neck again and his warm breath feels staggered like he is nervous to be talkin’.
“She did this to you?” You whisper quietly in shock. 
“Fer’ three fuckin’ years.” He groans and then pulls his arms away. “I hate talkin’ ‘bout it, don’t fuckin’ wanna, really. What else you wanna know?” Joel sighs softly from behind you. 
“You ever hit her back?” You’re not sure you wanna know, but you kind of need to know. 
“Once.” Joel whispers and his body is gone from behind yours. You turn and he’s leaning against the front door with the heels of his hands pressed into his eyes. “Fuckin’... the night ‘fore she took off. We were fightin’, n’ she just wouldn’t let up.” He doesn’t remove his hands, sounds angry to be talking about it and is starting to speak a little more aggressively. “Non stop. All night. Scratchin’, wailin’ on me somethin’ fuckin’ terrible. Callin’ me a bad dad– been a dad for two weeks mind you, workin’ my ass off day in n’ out for those that lil girl n' that bitch who fuckin' hit me.” Joel finally rips his hands away from his eyes and is shaking his head, with an angry smile on his face. “I fuckin’ just… I dunno, lil tap on her mouth-- t’ shut her up. After three fuckin’ years of puttin’ up with it.” Joel tosses his hands in the air and puts his hand on the doorknob.
“Don’t go–” You try and stop him even though you are still mad at him. Those patterned scars on his arms? Her fucking fingernails and that's heartbreaking. Makes you so fucking sad that he put up with that for so long because he just wanted to be a dad.
“I need a fuckin' minute—” He says sharply. “I'm not takin’ my bullshit out on you– again.” Then he opens the door, steps out onto the porch and shuts the door behind him. 
What the hell is going on? 
You go to the basement because, poor Joel. Your battered and beaten– That fuckin’ bitch of an ex-wife of his better hope you never have to meet her. You’ll put your hands on her in ways Joel couldn’t. Sure fuckin’ will. You’re so mad thinking about it while you change out of your bloody dress and into that lil white lace thing Joel got you. 
You’re losing your virginity tonight. You don’t care what he says or if he wants to (you’re not gonna do that), you also don’t care that you have a black eye and a laceration with stitches. No. You’re going to fuck your boyfriend and make him less sad for having a terrible ex-wife that he— You gasp audibly even though no one is around to hear– thankfully. Joel is going to have to see her at his daughter's wedding. Stupid, man beatin’ bitch. Joel should have just left but… you’ve never been in an abusive relationship. So…you have no room to talk. You are going to fuck him. You're partially a little mad at him, mostly feel kinda bad that his wife used to hit him. Want him to remember how good n' tight your pussy is if he ever sees her again and gets sucked back into whatever bullshit she was dishing out that kept him around for so long. 
You're gonna do your damnedest to seduce your boyfriend and get him to fuck you. You need it more than he does honestly. You got punched in the face--- fuuck. Your PHONE!? You cannot even think about it because you'll lose all sense of feeling bad for him and go out there and spit on him not nicely. Okay. Sex with Joel. 
You’ll just be there for him if and when he comes inside to see you ready in bed. Splayed out so he can fucking use you if he needs to. You don't care. You cleaned up all the blood and honestly…ya don’t look half bad. You look sexy as hell in that lil white thang and your black eye. He won’t be able to resist. If he ever comes inside…he’s been out there for so long. 
It’s hard to not go inspecting when he’s out there for a half hour. Just sitting on one of the chairs on the porch. You could go outside. Sam and Cody’s house faces a giant field and has no neighbors across from them and it’s late. You’re fuckin’ in your lil white thing. Shit. Fuck. Doesn’t matter. He is your boyfriend and he is sad. You open the door and take a deep breath, getting ready to be almost naked outside. 
“Hi.” You stand with your feet together after you step out and turn to him. He doesn’t look up at you, just stares at his hands. 
“I’m sorry, baby.” He grumbles to himself. “I just feel like an ass.” He still doesn’t look up. 
“I know. You should for what happened at the bar. But, we can talk another time about it. Come inside with me.” You feel like an ass to for being out here like this. Cody and Sam…have neighbors on either side of their house…so someone could fuckin’ see you. 
“I need another minute, babe. I'm so--” Joel turns his head to look at you and stops mid-sentence. “Woah.” He sighs softly. “Yer' like a pretty lil angel.” Joel smirks and his eyes trace every voluptuous curve of your body before his eyes find yours. “You want Daddy t’fuck you tonight– all night? S'why you put that on? For me?” He asks softly, turning his body in the chair, resting one elbow on the armrest. 
“Yes, Daddy.” You nod at him and he pushes himself out of the chair. 
“Where you want it?” He growls softly. “Out here?” Joel raises one eyebrow and you freeze in fear and start to panic but Joel smirks and takes three steps so he can be in front of you, turning you so your back is to the front door. “Get yer’ ass in that bed, right now.” His kisses are long and desperate as your hand searches for the doorknob that is somewhere on the door behind you. He finds it for you and leads you inside, downstairs and to the bed. 
There is a trail of his clothes from the front door to where he has you now. On your bed. Naked between your legs. Both of you are quivering and searching endlessly for more air as you’re reduced to a puddle as he slides his length over your cunt through that little triangle of white fabric that separates the two of you. 
“Might hurt a lil.” Joel whispers down to you as he rolls his hips into yours softly. He’s been doing this as he kisses you, teasing you with nibbling bottom lip kisses and naughty words for several minutes and now he’s is like hot steel between your legs. “I’m sorry if it does hurt at all. Imma go slow the first time as long as y’need me to.” He whispers as just the tips of your noses touch softly. “Yeah?” 
“Yeah..” You’re so fucking nervous and excited and feel like you’ll never catch your breath again. 
“I like bein’ this close to ya, but…I gotta watch.” Joel kisses you softly and leans back so he can look between your two bodies that meet right in the center. “Fuuuck.” Joel whispers to only himself as he grinds himself into you. “You wanna keep that sexy lil thong on? Don’t care?” Joel flicks his eyes up to yours as one of his strong hands slips into the delicate string on the side. 
“You gonna rip it?” You ask with a smirk. He nods silently. “Do it.” Joel purses his lips together and yanks the elastic from the triangle of fabric and then does the same thing with the other side- discarding it on the floor. 
Joel seems just as nervous as you as he wraps one fist around his throbbing length. He strokes himself a couple times as he kneels in front of you. It’s already so hard and… so big. Fuck. Okay. You got this. He’s not doing anything. Just looking at your pussy and his cock he’s stroking right above it. He’s breathing just as heavy as you are. 
“Ready?” Joel flicks his eyes up to yours and you nod. “Gimmie.” Joel taps your hips with his hand and you push your hips up as he reaches forward and grabs two pillows and puts them under your hips. When you set them down, you’re angled up to him. “Perfect.” 
The tip of his cock is so much hotter than you could have ever expected him to be. So fucking hot, it’s like it’s burning you as he traces the outside of your cunt with it. You’re staring at him– watching his cock tease your pussy and you cannot help but wonder who he is teasing more. Himself or you? 
“Fuck me, Daddy.” You whine softly, batting your eyelashes. Joel’s eyes flick up to yours and they are dark and a little scary and he’s got his brows pinched together softly. 
“Shut up, lil brat. Daddy’s doin’ something.” He growls at you, the one hand on your outer thigh strokes you gently and comfortingly as he speaks. Doesn’t grip you or spank you at all. He drops his eyes back down to your dripping center and he sighs softly. “M'Fuckin’...lookin at it. Shut th'fuck up.” He sighs much softer now as he pushes the head of his cock between your folds to drag it up and down the length of your slit. 
“You shut up.” You coo up to him softly, biting your bottom lip. Joel smirks, snorts softly and looks up at you. 
“You like bein’ a lil bratty, bitch?" Joel hisses this question at you angrily, "'Cause this old man fuckin’ loves it.” He smirks, leans down to kiss your forehead before pulling away to watch as he continues to torture you. “Fuckin’ tellin’ me t’shut up. Who’re you? A lil bitch.” Joel speaks softly as the tip of him reaches the entrance. “Fuuuck. Fuck. Okay. Ready? I’m gon’ go slow.” Joel’s eyes can’t leave where you two are about to be joined, honestly, neither can yours. 
“Yeah, please. Put it in me.” You whisper softly and make Joel sigh softly. 
“Say that again.” He demands quietly.
“Put it in me, Daddy. Please.” Your voice is trembling like you might fucking cry from the anticipation of all of this. Been almost close to two months of teasing and licking and fingers. You didn’t even use those toys he got you…not yet. You will. You didn’t want to put anything inside of you before him. 
Joel says nothing as he pushes the tip inside of you. That’s not bad. It goes in with no resistance. He pushes in a little further and there is stretching. A lot of it. Stretching you full. So tight. You close your eyes and let your head fall back. You breathe through that pinching and uncomfortable rasping— pulling inside of you. Pulling you apart. Your pussy was leaking and made it so easy for him to slip into you though, you didn’t resist him, your cunt accept him happily but it still was so full. 
You’re reduced to whimpering through your nose at the new mix of pleasure as the length of him slides across your spongy, raised patch for the first time. It’s…incredible. Fingers are awesome, and toys are cool. 
Joel’s cock is so unyielding, so fucking rigid and hot as it’s stretching you, but when it snakes across that good spot– it’s like silk, smooth and comforting asthe tip of him, or anything ever, kisses your cervix for the first time. It’s a jolt that snaps your eyes open and makes you squeak. Joel’s eyes snap up to yours as his dark patch of pubic hair and the patch right above your slit intermingle as he sinks into you. 
“Lil squeakin’ baby okay?” God the way he fucking talks to you should piss you off. It should make you so fucking mad. You should make him get off of you but you do not because you love it. Joel holds his hips into yours, pressed tightly against you as you adjust to him. Your muscles and walls are clenching and unclenching around him as he delays his pleasure for your comfort. Joel likes it though, you keep doing it even after your cunt stops doing it involuntarily. The tempo change in your squeezing him makes him pull back out of you slowly. 
How can someone be so incredibly soft and hard all at the same time? His whole body. All of it. Soft n’ hard. Fuck. You’re staring up at him while he watches the entire length of him reappear from the interior of you. You see it, your slickness on him, it’s fucking glistening on the throbbing veins and almost purple skin of him. 
“Jesus.” You sigh softly as he pulls everything but the tip from inside you. 
“Fuckin’ tight as hell. Holy shit.” Joel gasps like he had been holding his breath. You sigh and then are reduced to nothing but a moaning mess on the bed as he starts to thrust into you rhythmically. It’s slow and soft. Gentle as to not make you squeak too much, only a little. Your eyes are closed, he’s not telling you to open them. He is leaning over to take on your nipples in his mouth through the sheer, white lace of the bra. He wraps his lips around as much of your breast as he can, sucking it gently as his tongue laps and swirls around your sensitive peak. 
“Oh fu–uck! You can only speak harshly as that mix of pleasure and pain start to mix differently. More stretching and dull aching as his cock moves inside of you– but it’s not as intense or nearly as bad now that you have something constantly moving against that fucking spot. Fuck. He feels so good and warm– hot. He is red, hot steel under the satin, smooth skin of his throbbing dick. “Jeeeesus. Fuck ”
“You like this hard dick Daddy’s givin’ you?” He barks down to you softly, snaps it out of his mouth like you aren’t a melting mess below him. “Yeah you fuckin’ do, sexy fuckin’ brat.” Joel chuckles as a groan escapes his mouth. 
“Y-you like this– fuck– tight pussy– fuuucking god— your lil girl’s givin’ you?” You part choke the words out and then moan some of them. You’re interuppted with bliss as you try and use your voice for him. 
“My fuckin’ god.” Joel’s hips snap into yours— on accident or on purpose you’ll never know– but it feels like all of your bones buzzed all at the same time and every inch of your skin tickles for two seconds until he’s pulling himself away from your cervix and massaging that spot that’ll make you gush on him. You wonder in your euphoria filled brain if he’ll like that– you gushing on him like that and clench your walls down on him even tighter than you thought you could. 
Joel’s whole body jerks gently when you do that and he snaps himself forward again and buzzes your bones and tickles your skin again and it’s… not a terrible feeling. Definitely knew and something you’d have to get used to because when he does it you cannot think for a second after but when you regain your senses he’s already buzzin’ you again with the drooling tip of his cock. You want him to come inside you. Badly. You’ll be fine. It’s the twenty-first century. Emergency contraception works. But then you’re going on the pill so he can do it whenever the fuck he wants. 
“Come in…side me.” Your drawn out whimpering moan makes Joan groan loudly and he is trembling under your touch. You don’t even remember grabbing onto his biceps but you did, sometime during the buzzing you assume. Your fingernails are digging into him and you feel bad, so badly after knowing what you do, but he’s pumping into you quicker now. 
“Dear God.” Joel groans and closes his eyes tight. It feels so good making him do stuff like that. Hearing him moan your little pet name he made up for you. “You want it, Birdie?” His moans are deep and rumble like thunder when they come out of him. You can feel the vibrations from them in his arms. 
“Yeah… I want it…..Claim my pussy….I’m yours Daddy.” You’re keening the words up to him between gasps for air. Where did these high pitched sounds come from? You have never made such noises in your life…not even alone!! He is pushing them out of you as he thrusts inside of you but his sweating body is still trembling, like he is struggling… You think he wants to come, so you try and get him to. “Please Daddy…I beeee-oh fuck– I belong to you.” You whimper as he buzzes you once again. 
“How ya feelin’ Bird?” Joel groans and lets his head fall forward like he is exhausted. “Hu–Hurtin’ still?” He stutters as he withdraws from you slowly. 
“N-nononoo.” You whimper as he thrusts into once more and then holds himself against that blinding, body vibrating stop deep inside you. You’re silenced by this and staring up at him as he tilts his head up to look at you. 
“I gotta…” Joel hangs his head in shakes it in shame, panting softly. “I can’t anymore.” He is still panting and looking up at you again. 
“S-So c-come.” You stutter up to him as body and mind melting tremors course through you. 
“Not talkin’ ‘bout comin’ Birdie.” He adjusts his hands on the bed and rests for a second, wiping his sweat covered brow with the back of one of his hands. “Gotta while ‘fore I do that now…” He’s grinning down at you, his chest– also dripping sweat– is rising and falling as he tries to slow his puffing. “I gotta fuck ya.” He nods. 
“You are?” You can think… a little bit. Not much. 
“No. We’re makin’ love right now.” Joel admits with another shake of his head from side to side. “I wanna fuck you.” Joel nods now, up and down, quickly. “If ya can’t handle it… might gotta take a lil break.” He sighs. “Havin’ trouble controlin’ myself… don’t wanna hurt ya.” He sighs loudy and then hoots like he just has energy and sound inside of him he needs to expel. 
“Like… fuck me real hard?” You dunno. The buzzing. The buzzing is not terrible but it is a lot and he is still doing it right now. Pressing on that little button that lets you know he has arrived at your most inner location. 
“I’ll hold back a lil.” He reassures you but then adds. “Just gotta go harder’n this.” Joel sighs like he is disappointed with himself for having those needs inside of him but it’s kind of turning you on that he can’t control himself with you. Needs to take a break!? He is taking a break right now!
“You’ll stop–”
“Baaaaby.” Joel groans. “Don’t gotta ask. Of course.” He nods quickly. “Never fuckin’ hurt you. ‘Less you ask for it.” Joel snickers. “Then I will.” The tremors are turning into little itchy scratchies inside of you and not so much tickles and vibrations and alarms going off all over your whole body. No, this isn’t too bad. 
“Okay. Fuck me, Old man.” You nod up to him and Joel snickers to himself and leans all the way back so he is on his knees, holding you where your thighs meet your sides at your hip. Your legs are splayed out on either side of him. 
“You just give me a good whack right here–” Joel points to his forearm. “A good one. Don’t grab me, don’t tap. Whack me. I’ll stop n’ we can do it the other way.” He speaks firmly so you’re listing. You’re trying but, still twitching underneath him. He pulls his hips away from yours and you can relax. A deep sigh and almost– a feeling of being empty. Like you’re gaping now that he’s only at the entrance. “Whaddya got’a do?” Joel asks now, catching your watering eyes. 
“Whack.” You choke out after swallowing in a big, noisy gulp. You make Joel snort silently, just his body jerks softly and he smiles. 
“Yer’ pussy is fuckin immaculate, baby girl.” Joel sighs loudly and sinks his hips into yours. Your pubic hairs touch softly before he pulls away and then slams into you with a loud smack of his skin on your skin. 
“Jesus!” You exclaim but do not whack him because your whole body jolts back away from but then he is pulling you by where he has a grip dug into the soft skin on your lower sides where they dip into your leg. Another second long convulsion and flesh rippling titillation. Then another and another. More. It is endless. “Oh my go– Oh. Oh. Daddyyy.” You whine up to him with your eyes shut tight– your one eye hurts so bad but you do not care, the pleasure is everything you wanted it to be. This is amazing and perfect and you’re so glad it’s Joel. So glad he is the one doing this to you for the first time. “Th-Thank y-you.” You whimper as he really fucks you, his hips never slow down. Never cease their forceful driving into you. 
“Thank me again.” Joel barks an order to you through his pleasure. There is more sweat on his brow and he wipes it away with the back of his hand again and then grips you tighter. His chest is red and glistening as he focuses all of his energy and force on you. Right where your groins adjoin for half a second before he leaves and does it all over again. 
“Thank y-you Daddy Joel, fuck! Thank youthankyouu!!” There are tears in your eyes from the bumbling rapture inside of you. They’re rolling down the side of your face and…you might…be sobbing through your shrill, endless ululations as you tell him you’re coming. “It’s happening…. OH god… fuck Daddy… I’m gonna— I’m coming.” 
“Open yer’ fuckin’ eyes, lil girl.” Joel snaps down at you. “Open yer’ mouth.” You don’t even have to open your eyes to know that his mouth is pressed tightly together when he barks down at you. You manage to open them and look up into his eyes as your orgasm washes over you. You don’t even have to open your mouth because it is already hanging agape, waiting for him and what he loves to give you. 
It’s warm on your tongue and upper lip when you receive it both times. He doesn’t spit it this time, he drips it down to you as he slams his body against yours through your orgasm. You swallow it hungrily and then lick your lips to clean off what he over shot the first time. You gush staring up at him and now his jaw drops open and his rhythmic thrusting turn into sloppy, jagged jerking as your gushing juices send him to ecstasy filled release. 
“I’m gonna come,” Joel sighs breathlessly as his hips snap forward two more times and then he holds himself into you. “Fuck! S’mine. You're mine.” Joel nearly shouts down at you while he comes. Your gush flowing out against him as he does it. It’s dripping down the curve and crack of your ass and soaking the pillows below you. “Fuuck. Fuckk. Yer’ my gushin’ Princess.” Joel stutters once as he fills your pussy for the first time. “Daddy’s Princess.”
You do not fuck Joel all night. Your body gives out after that first good fuck. It’s disappointing but…Joel fucked the life out of you. You are dead against the mattress staring up at the ceiling. You honestly can’t even feel anything, your whole pussy is numb and it aches a little. He fucked you. Fucked you so good. He didn’t kill you with his cock, no…
Joel maybe ruined your life though, because how do you ever get fucked… not like that?  
Get fucked by anyone who is not by Mr. Daddy Joel Miller? No. 
He has done something horrible to you and now you want him to do more treacherous things to you. He might be evil , actually. This is what you get for praying to Satan all this time— as a JOKE . Then he sends you this evil man with a tongue that lashes at you in the best, and worst ways possible. 
Your evil, sonofabitch boyfriend is moaning as he sucks his release out of your cunt, licking at your walls now that he has gaped you with his fucking monster cock– what the fuck? It didn’t look as big as it fucking felt inside you.. 
Joel is laying with his head between your legs. He’s been down there this whole time. Just… licking. It’s been… maybe forty-five minutes since he fucked you for the first time. His hands roam across your stomach and caress you gently. His tongue smears his come along your cunt and clit as he swirls around it. It’s the only part of your pussy that feels good anymore. Sucking and lapping at your dripping and gaping hole like he is desperately trying to get back what he gave to you.
“Ohhh.” Is all you have the energy to say. You can only hum a happy, pleasing sound to him and your hand lazily finds his hair and you twirl your fingers around in it mindlessly as he licks you. He’s not even trying to make you come, not even teasing you… just collecting. And once he has his mouth full, he climbs over your lifeless body and nods his chin for you to open your mouth. You do.  
You stare at him the entire time he leans down and spits into your mouth, not letting you do anything before his mouth is on yours. The mix of your gush and his bitter release does something to give you life. You wrap your arms around his neck and hold him to you as your tongues pass that blend of the both of you back and forth. 
Once you're done with all that– you’re looking at him standing at the edge of your bed. You still haven’t moved. Haven’t been able to. 
“We’re good?” Joel asks seriously. 
“What?” You close your eyes and try to imagine an ice pack on your pussy. 
“You still wanna be with me?” Joel sounds nervous. You cannot even open your eyes to look at that stupid slut. 
“Yes.” You snap at him sleepily. “Shut up. You’re the slut.” You point one, almost ded hand at him. 
“What!?” Joel sounds so shocked. “I’m not!” Now he’s offended. You do open your eyes and look at him now. 
“You’re the slut.” You bark at him and then close your eyes again and talk mostly to yourself. “Fucks like that n’ says he’s not a slut? Fuckin’ lair.” You grumble and roll over onto your side. “Slutty old man.” You are so tired. 
“Because I’ve been with a couple ladies??” Joel exclaims and crawls onto the bed beside you. “I’m not a slut.” 
“You are. Callin’ me a slut the first time we hung out. Mr. I Been With Ladies.” You mock him and he chuckles but it sounds like he didn’t really want to. 
“I only been with you since I met ya. Didn’t give my number out.” Joel teases you back and touches your sides. 
“You’re still a slut and we’re talking in the morning about why you didn’t just leave your ex-wife.” You snap, remembering that you are still actually kind of angry with him. 
“Uuuggghhh.” Joel groans loudly. “I’ll fuckin’ tell ya right now. Then we’re never talkin’ ‘bout her ass again, got it?” He snaps at you. 
“Dish.” You snap back. 
“We got married ‘fore I started my company. I was worried she was gon’ try an’ take all of it. Bankrupt me. Take my house. Eventually– I was worried she’d leave with Sarah. So I just let her hit me.” Joel is… not yelling but he is– excited? Speaking quickly and with gusto. “I was too embarrassed to ask for help, Birdie... Who could help me? Who was I gon’ fuckin' ask? My mom is dead. My dad should'a been, at that point. Tommy is just barely done bein’ a kid… so? I stayed. N’ I fucked up.”
“I’m sorry.” You whisper shyly.
“Don’t fuckin’ be sorry fer' me, you didn’t fuckin' do shit!” Joel exclaims and then his eyes soften. “I’m sorry. I get loud when I’m angry, I’ll work on that shit too. Jesus Christ.” Joel looks at the floor. “No one knows ‘bout my ex. Just her and I. I never told anyone else. Not even Tommy or Sarah.” Joel turns his head to look at you. “Like to keep it that way.”
“Why…not tell people what she did? So they know?” You wrinkle your nose. 
“‘Cause then they’ll know I did it to her. N’ all they’ll see is me… hittin’ his wife. Even though it was only once n’ barely a tap– I did it. I hit her, n’ I hate myself fer’ that.” He admits sadly. “Our dad was fucked up towards the end, but he raised us better than that.” 
“What…was wrong with—” You start but Joel shakes his head. 
“Not gettin’ into that… not now. Maybe not ever. It just wasn’t good. Real bad. He struggled.” Joel says curtly. 
“Alright… I also had an asshole dad, too—” You start but he cuts you off quickly and with a sharp tongue
“My dad wasn’t a fuckin’ asshole, got it?” Joel narrows his eyes on yours. “Not an asshole. I can’t talk ‘bout it, Bird. I don’t like to.” 
“I don’t like talking about my Dad but it fuckin’ helps.” You roll your eyes at him. “Not keepin’ all that shit in…kinda fucking helps sometimes. So, maybe you should go see a therapist. I talk to one all the time.” 
“I’m not goin’ to see no fuckin’ shrink.” Joel scoffs again. He's such a fucking man. Ugh. 
“Whatever. You don’t have to, but it does help and it is good for you. I meant what I said last night… I won’t let you aplogize next time if you ever speak to me like that again…” 
“I know… but now we gotta talk ‘bout something else…” Joel sighs and turns to you. "I was gonna bring it up...n' then you said you were a virgin...n' I thought I was gon' scare you away if I told you the things I like...'cause I don't need 'em. Not at all. I just like 'em...and they're not all...nice." He speaks cautiously-- the taming a rabid animal voice is back and you're shaking.
“What?” You groan but he places his hand on your thigh besides your bruised hand. You almost pull away but it's hard to resist the warmth of him. He's...so handsome. His brown eyes are locked on to yours, his hair is all messy from getting pulled and tugged on by you-- it's sticking in all directions and you have to stop yourself from smirking. He didn't clean up his facial hair at all this morning before work, so he's scruffier than normal. You could reach out and touch him, but it's hard because he's going to tell you scary things right now.
“The things I like can get a lil…” He pauses and searches for the word he needs to use. “Bein’ on the receiving end of what I like can fuck with yer’ head sometimes… if you don’t know yer’ cared for or get mistreated. I do care ‘bout ya. N' I'm sorry 'bout last night.” Joel stresses this point. 
“Okay…” You’re hesitant because what the fuck is your slutty, evil boyfriend talking about. Are you going to have to kick him in the chest like Jackie Harris that one time? Break up with him?
“I like ya more n’ more every day– but I am jus’ a big, strong guy that wants to Dominate ya.”
“Like you have been?” You ask and Joel nods, adding to your statement.
 “N’ then I wanna take ya out… treat ya — ‘cause I can and like to … I call ya sweet things so you know that when I say that— eh, it’s not a show..or fake. I like makin’ you feel all cute n’ special– cause you are, but also ‘cause s’just what I like…”
“Uh… then what?” You blink and swallow audibly. 
“I turn ‘round n’ humiliate you while my cocks inside you.” Joel says simply. “Make you feel naughty n’ dirty. Use yer’ lil fuckin’ pussy however I want, use you. Be real mean to ya sometimes…”
“This is an excuse so you can yell at me?” You roll your eyes and almost think about telling him to leave but he rubs the outside of his pinky against yours. 
“Never. I’m gon’ work on that. I will. Gettin’ angry n’ sayin’ mean shit. I will.” Joel speaks so calmly and evenly. “I just wanna call ya names in the bedroom. Do naughty stuff in there… sometimes let it playfully carry into our relationship too”
“Like? I need you to expla—” Joel hooks his pinky with yours and looks down at it. 
“Remember my promise to you?” He asks quietly. You nod. “Keep that in mind n’ know… that’s how I wanna treat you ninety-nine percent of the time.” 
“The other one perce--?” You ask fearfully but he cuts you off and is ready to tell you.
“Call you terrible fuckin' things, worthless n’ stupid.” Joel whispers softly. “Spit on ya. Fuck you real hard n’ fill your holes– all of ‘em.” His eyes never leave yours. “Fuck you anywhere…everywhere I want.” Joel is still so calm. 
You’re fuckin’ trembling. This sounds..equal parts horrifying and also incredible. Sexy and scary. Right up your alley— dark and horrifying alley. 
“What if I don’t want that? Getting called fuckin’ stupid every day?” You wrinkle your nose. That sounds like it could be... tiring? Mentally? But, you're not stupid and...have a therapist. So, this is something you might explore but... you dunno.
“Don’t gotta. We can just keep doin’ what we’re doin’. I'm used to it bein' normal." Joel shrugs his shoulders. "I enjoy this though. Don't need it-- like it. Like exploring. Like pushin' mine and yer' boundaries... s'kinky." Joel nods then frowns "I haven't been with many who like it-- s'why I'm used to it normal, lil rough. Nothin' craz--"
“Slut!” You snap, cutting him off and Joel snickers softly. 
“Maybe… not anymore though.” He smirks. “I just wanna fuckin’ ruin you, baby girl. Only you.” Joel Miller whispers this to you and your pussy (you thought it was broken, really broken) twinges when he says it. “I mean it. I like it rough…but if you’d let me. I’d like to… try things with ya. Keep showin' you things like I have been.” 
“What if I don’t like some of the things you show me?” Your interest outweighs your fear. 
“‘Kay, now yer’ asking good questions…” He smirks at you and pulls your hand into his lap by your pinky. “Yer’ in control in all this, babe.” He nods. “You don’t like it, I stop. I like watchin’ ya squirm n’ cry… but for the right reasons. I don’t wanna…really hurt you— I do. I wanna spank ya and whip yer’ ass ‘till its red. Smack ya a ‘round a lil…fuck you real good when I do it. Make ya feel good, give you pleasure with yer' pain, baby.” His voice is so comforting that it’s calming even listening talk about he wants to mildly abuse you in the bedroom. 
“I have to decide right now?” You blink at him. 
“You..don’t ever gotta decide nothin’. I like that shit, but I’m not gon’ die without it. I'm just warnin’ ya so I don’t take things too far…on accident or… in misunderstanding.” He leans in and kisses you on the forehead gently. 
“Okay… we can talk about things first, always?” You look up at him and he’s already nodding his head. 
“Do you wanna change outta that lil white thang and go to bed? We’ll getcha coffee and a new phone in the morning?” He whispers. 
“Yeah.”
Then Joel undresses you and gives you the comfiest pair of shorts out of your dresser. Then this stupid, evil Red Devil goes into his ‘spend the night bag’ and gets you a clean t-shirt of his to wear. 
“I have some…” You whisper up to him, but he motions for you to lift your arms and he slips it on for you. 
“I know. Don’t care– want you in this.” He leans down and kisses your lips softly and for a long time before he runs upstairs and performs his little night time routine here at your house. Checking all the doors and windows. 
Joel is…actually perfect? No. He’s angry and is a dick and is making up for that. Unless you already forgave him? You dunno. You honestly can’t even care because you’re asleep before Joel even comes back.
The next morning is interesting. It takes a lot of convincing from your boyfriend. 
“Just for me.” He nods. You shake your head. “My. Eyes. Only.” He nods. 
“Why?” You’re smirking.
“Picture it, okay?” Joel stands besides you and holds his hand out in front of him like he’s trying to get you to see what he’s seeing. “Me…in my truck at work…watchin’ it..thinkin’ ‘bout you… touching mysel—”
“You do that at work!?” You exclaim. He chuckles and smacks your ass. 
“Uh, if I had this yes– I would.” He is already getting his phone out of his jeans from last night. 
“No one’s gonna see it?” You blink at him. Joel scoffs. 
“I’m not sharin’ this with anyone. You fuckin’ nuts?” He pulls a chair up to the end of the bed and messes around with his phone. ‘S’fer me. Me alone.” 
Now, Joel is laying in bed with you. He’s behind you with your back to his chest. Your legs are spread over his and his hard cock is pressed against your back. You're grinding yourself against him, massaging his cock between your bodies as his fingers work on your clit. 
“You like this naughty shit?” he asks softly in your ear. You nod and can only focus on breathing heavily, trying not to look directly into his phone that he set up on a chair at the end of the bed. “Say it.” He growls in your ear. His two thickest and longest fingers are just circling your clit slowly and lazily. 
“I like being naughty, Daddy.” You mewl quietly. Joel’s other hand is gripping one of your tits and thumbing the stiff peak as he rocks his hips up against you gently, moving his body against yours as you drag your body up and down against his slightly. Just an inch or two in each direction. Giving Joel just enough pressure and friction and movement on his throbbing cock between your ass and on your lower back. 
“You like that I need this?” Joel growls, moving his head to the other side of yours now, kissing across your shoulder and up your neck as your sweating bodies glide across each other. “ Gotta have you like this in my pocket, lil girl.” Joel whispers. “So I can see this pretty pussy.” While Joel speaks rubs all four fingers across your cunt slowly. 
“I love it.” You moan softly. 
“You want Daddy to give your pussy a good slap?” He coos in your ear. Honestly, not really. But, you’re going to let him do whatever he wants to you. 
“Please don’t hurt me, Daddy.” You whine nervously. Is he gonna smack it like he did your ass? Joel’s breath hitches in his chest and you feel it happen behind you. His hips buck up into your back gently. “Slap it soft. ” You whisper. Joel sighs and rubs your clit quickly with his four stiff fingers– so quickly. He’s putting so much effort into it, his body stiffens below yours and he leans forward slightly to put more pressure behind his rubbing. 
You are moaning and writhing, eyes closed as he quickly brings you right to that edge. When you’re almost there he pulls his hand away and swiftly brings them down onto your red, slick and puffy cunt lips. It focuses it to the top of your mound where your nerve bundle is. It is a different sensation. The hard, fast, sudden pressure and shock of the slap on your clit makes you moan, it doesn't even hurt at all. 
“Do it again, Daddy.” You press yourself into him and turn your head so your closed eyes are pressed into his neck as he leans over you the best he can. 
“Awhh, the cute, pathetic, lil girl likes gettin’ her pussy slapped? Course you do, ya naughty lil bitch.” Joel laughs softly. "Look at the camera, talk to it." He growls into your ear and gives your mound another soft smack and it’s wet and audible. You turn your head forward and rest it against his shoulder as he lens in and presses his lips to your cheek, kissing you softly. Then he gives you another tight rasp on your pussy. And another. He’s doing it so rapidly, slapping and swatting your clit and not hard enough to hurt, it’s…so good? So fucking good for some reason. Joel and you are still working together, your glistening bodies sliding and slipping against each other. 
“Fuck. I do like it.” You murmur to the camera, your eyes are still clenched and now, you're rocking your hips up to meet his quick, noisy— more than patting but he’s not spanking your cunt like he did last night. The force all comes from his wrist, not his shoulder. It’s incredible and almost reminds you of his shower head but not as wet or warm. Joel growls softly against your cheek and presses his forehead to the side of your skull with slight force. 
"Louder. I wanna hear it." He snaps softly into the soft skin just below your cheekbone. He is grinding up into your back. "I wanna hear you fuckin' say it. Mean it." It's so fierce when he says it, that it almost startles you but... you just talked about all this so you know it's...just a thing. Not mean, not scary. 
"I fuckin' love when you spank my cunt, Daddy. So fuckin' much." You speak with force and it comes out in moans as he chuckles against your cheek and rubs your clit now in between those little, tight rasps of his fingers against you.
"There it is..." Joel kisses your cheek softly as his own moans start to slip from his mouth as he holds you around the waist with his other arm now, moving your body up and down against the front of him. You can feel his movements becoming more desperate as you stroke his cock with ever single move you make. 
"Oh fuck...yes...please don't... stop.The light breeze he makes with his fingers gives you goosebumps on your inner thigh as your legs begin to tremble. “I think– oh god– I… think–” You’re cut off and choked by pleasure as that real bliss and ‘letting go’ feeling builds. 
“Yep. Do it. Gush for Daddy, baby. I wanna see it.” Joel moans loudly as your body moves against him more desperately, searching for more than just his slapping fingers even though he is bringing you there doing that. “C’mon baby. Yer' such a naughty fuckin' girl. Such a pathetic, lil, gushin' girl.” He whispers in your ear. "Yer' fuckin' amazing." The fact that he wants a video of you doing that so he can watch whenever he wants is what sends you there– it’s what makes you gush. 
He gets a clear shot of it happening as his abuse of your clit never ends. He spanks your pussy through your gush and sometimes his fingers slip down so he can touch it as it comes out of you. You’re still moving against him, now shaking and moaning loudly against his neck. You can feel his body working against yours for his own release and you push back against him to give him more pressure. When you do that, he groans softly and pulls his hand away from your spasming pussy. Then his fingers are inside your mouth. 
“Suck.” He moans as his body jerks underneath yours. You lap at his fingers hungrily and taste yourself on him and moan softly. You part his digits with your tongue and run it down the length of each extremity in your mouth, swirling and lapping at his knuckles and then flicking your tongue against the web between his fingers. You’re doing this and Joel is coming between the two of you. His release is trapped between his stomach and your back. “Such a fuckin’ good girl.” 
Joel sits you up and crawls from behind you and grabs his phone off the chair at the end of the bed. He sits beside you and starts to play the video. 
“I don’t wanna watch that. It’s for you.” You roll your eyes as the sounds of your moaning and whimpering fill the room. It makes you blush as Joel teases his cock again, watching what you two just did. He gets halfway through it with a big dumb smile on his face before he turns it off and turns his smile to you now. 
“Why? S’hot as hell. Jeeesus. Yer’ fuckin’ naughty n’ sexy. I like it.” Joel smirks and leans down to kiss you. “We’re makin’ more.” He teases. 
“Fine. I like seeing you—” You point at his face and then to his stomach covered in his milky release. “-- smiling and covered in cum. So, fine.” You blush and he touches your cheek gently.
“I want to do the naughtiest things with you.” Joel whispers. You blink. 
“Like what?” You pur up to him as he rubs his thumb across your lips gently. 
“You’ll see.”
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(sorry it took me so long, i'll try and be better.)
tag list: @immyowndefender @korikolove @untamedheart81 @fanficlover1414, @creepycorbeaux @ohmillerbaby @rosebuds-and-moonlight @harriedandharassed
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genderqueerdykes · 2 days ago
Note
About your "Men (including cishet men) welcome to interact" post
As someone who's most important/supportive person in their life is our dad, & we have (or just have meet) other men who has meant a lot to us or have been really supportive or even our role models, sometimes people hatred or just distrust they have and how openly rude they are about it just a lot sometimes. Obviously & Honestly there's a lot to be said here(about this topic as whole) but we are not able to(personal comfortability & actual writing ability). Thank you for being a blog that has been here allowing us to be able to explore, understand, learn our(& others) identities/experiences in world, not making us feel bad for the people who support us just because of how the judge based off of the same thing the rest of society shuns us for. (a side note because of your blog we were able to get the nerve and make the push to start T just over a year ago now. A lot of it due to the help and support we got from our dad, who despite us being an adult has financially covered everything for it and the rest of our health as we are also disabled and only recently have been able to work at all) Thank you for your time in just reading this if ya do.
thanks for taking the time to send this, i really appreciate it!
i'm tired of seeing hate for the sake of hate. hate solves very little. like being a hater sucks actually, it's not cool to be shitty to other people for no reason. it bothers me deeply that people refuse to accept that there genuinely are cishet men who are queer allies out there, and in fact, some of them are absolutely amazing queer allies. i've had friends who were cishet men and gendered me correctly after i came out to them. i've had cishet men stand up for me when someone questions my manhood.
nobody considers the fact that there are queer people that just might have a loved one, partner, or friend who is a cishet man. why would it ever be okay to openly show hate to someone who supports you? hell, how you even expect someone to respect your gender and your orientation if you hate them based off of their gender and orientation? profiling someone based off of their gender & orientation is quite literally what queerphobes do, and doing it to random cishet men who haven't hurt you will not make those queerphobes stop profiling you.
treating someone else like shit just because you've been treated like shit is passing your trauma on to someone else. you're bleeding on someone who did not cut you.
(a side note because of your blog we were able to get the nerve and make the push to start T just over a year ago now. A lot of it due to the help and support we got from our dad, who despite us being an adult has financially covered everything for it and the rest of our health as we are also disabled and only recently have been able to work at all)
first of all i'm so happy to hear that! i hope things have been going well for you with T, and i am genuinely so fucking happy to hear that your dad is so supportive. he sounds amazing i'm glad he wants to help you become the happiest version of yourself you can be. there really are supportive cishet men out there. some of them are dads, uncles, cousins, brothers, sons, friends and partners. there's no reason we should treat them like absolute shit when they support us. we need to love them just as they love us.
take care of yourself! thank you for sending this i really appreciate it! let me know if you need any help with regards to HRT! im always happy to help! good luck in your transition, stay safe!
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writingtraumaforever · 2 days ago
Text
Uncontrolled Chaos: Chapter 40
Notes: I already made a post about this, but I'm gonna put it here as well just in case. On my last trip, I flew home with a bad sinus infection and ended up having the pressure bust my eardrums. I have been unable to hear and in quite a bit of pain for the last week or so. Not to mention it just amplified my sinus infection and I got a touch of pneumonia from it. The meds I've been on have been drowsy and dizzying, and have made sitting down to write out long chapters a bit difficult for me. I'm hoping to be back to normal soon, though! In the mean time, enjoy the chapter!
Summary: Shadow takes Sonic somewhere special.
UC Masterpost!
Link to My AO3!
Start:
It’s not that Sonic was angry, per say..
Okay, maybe he was a little angry.
And the weird part was that he wasn’t even really sure why this new information upset him so much. He couldn’t quite put his finger on what exactly this all did to his head— finding out his alternate version was dating his biggest rival. And not just dating from the sounds of it, but they were in love. Well, he assumes so anyway since his alternate referred to Shads as his ‘lover’.
He had so many emotions running through his head. So many thoughts— memories of him and his own Shadow scratching at the guilty conscience of his brain, making him go back to the same question no matter how he was feeling:
Why didn’t his Shadow love him???
He followed Shads in silence, arms crossed and footsteps a bit heavier as if to stomp and show his current bad attitude. Shads leads the way, not looking back at Sonic but obviously searching for something or somewhere. Sonic’s jaw juts out, gritting his teeth as he rolls his eyes and finally huffs—
“Look- you said you wanted to have a chat, so are we gonna chat or—“
“We’re here.”
Sonic pauses, looking around them at the scenery and frowning more as his foot begins to tap impatiently, “The woods?? You come here to kill me or somethin’??”
Shadow turns at that, giving Sonic a perplexed look as he tilts his head at him, “Why would I kill you??”
“I dunno,” Sonic shrugs, huffy and dramatic per usual, “I don’t know anything about you, dude! For all I know, you could be lying about how you got here and what your endgame is—“
“Stop being fussy,” Shadow rolls his red eyes, moving to the large tree trunk and ducking himself down to crawl through it. Sonic’s fists clench.
“Fussy?! Who you callin’ fussy??? I’ve been lied to!”
“I never lied,” Shadow replies, voice echoing from the gash in the tree. Sonic just rolls his eyes and moves towards the tree now to duck down and look inside. There’s a long burrow through it, Shadow crouched and shuffling right along it like he knows where he’s going.
“You lied by omission, so it’s still lying,” Sonic retorts, slowly moving himself inside to follow his alternate rival, “And where are you taking me?? Narnia???”
“You’re so dramatic.”
“And you’re so deceptive. Like— what the hell, man??? You just gonna let me go on and on about how it’s cool we’re brothers in your world??”
“Not my fault your brain can’t put two men together and see them as anything but platonic,” Shadow replies, standing now at the end of the burrow with a hand on his hip and a quirked brow at Sonic.
Sonic scoffs at that, “Are you accusing me of being homophobic??? Because I’m not! Love is love and all that jazz. I don’t care who people love so long as they make them happy, what does it matter?! What throws me for a loop is that it’s you and me—“
“Calm down, will you? You’re being a bit petty.”
“No! No, I don’t think I will. I think I’ll keep being petty and stay super not-calm!”
Shadow groans, rubbing a hand down his face before tilting his head up to look at the dirt ceiling. Examining it.
“I think I have every right to be petty right now,” Sonic continues on, “Who the heck meets their boyfriend‘s alternate self and finds out they’re rivals in this world, and then proceeds to not tell them that you’re dating another version of them?!”
“Not many people, I’m guessing,” Shads replies, eyes still on the dirt ceiling as he tilts his head some. Not at all giving his full attention to Sonic, which just pisses him off more.
“Yeah, because it’s a sucky thing to do!”
“No. Because not many people meet their partner’s alternate selves.”
“Fuck you and your technicalities,” Sonic huffs, rolling his eyes and then gritting his teeth at Shadow still not paying attention, “Hey— I’m talkin’ to you! Least you can do is look at me!”
Sonic reaches out then to grab Shadow’s arm and jerk him around to look at him, Shads’ eyes narrowing at the blue hedgehog and glowing red. Sonic’s breath hitches for only a moment, eyes widening slightly at the threatening look. Shadow just stares at him a moment before he’s jerking his arm back and then taking a step away from Sonic. Then he’s moving that arm up and pointing his palm straight to the ceiling.
A large chaos spear appears and shoots right from his palm, Sonic’s eyes widening further and then clamping shut as the dirt ceiling is obliterated and dust and rocks crumble down on his quills. Coughing a bit, he waves his hand to waft at the dusty air from the presumed cave-in and tries to peek his eyes open.
“Chaos, dude, you tryin’ to kill us—?!”
When his eyes open, he finds nothing. Shadow is gone.
Sonic blinks, frowning with a concerned knit in his brow.
“Shads??”
“Up here, idiot.”
Sonic’s head tilts back, lifting to the dirt ceiling that now has a massive hole in it. Shadow peeking his head from the top and looking down at Sonic. A gloved hand is offered down to him, Shadow waiting patiently and looking down at Sonic expectedly.
Sonic just frowns at the hand, quirking a brow at it and then looking back to Shadow peeking from the hole. His form silhouetted by a light behind him..
After a pause, Sonic eventually sighs and reaches a hand out to take Shadow’s offered hand. Shadow pulls him up with barely a grunt, lifting him like he’s a feather which— okay.
Sonic huffs once he’s at the top and pulled onto his hands and knees, looking at Shadow who takes a small step back from him. Suddenly looking a bit vulnerable with his ears folded back and an almost shy demeanor about him. Sonic quirks a brow at him before finally letting his eyes trail to the environment and—
“…Woah..”
It’s gorgeous.
A valley full of flowers— most consisting of lavender and forget-me-nots, Sonic notices. The lavender definitely stands out to him because.. well, that’s Shadow’s signature scent. He automatically associates it with the dark hedgehog. The setting sun casts golden and pink hues that glimmer over the petals, creating a stunning rainbow of purples and blues and greens and pinks.. 
A hideaway bowl in the middle of the forest.
Who knew such a stunning place was so close to home… How has Sonic never found this??
“How..-“
“Did I know this was here??” Shadow asks, eyes looking out at the vast flowery valley before them, “..Turns out our worlds aren’t that different. My Sonic and I… we come here.”
Sonic’s eyes shift to Shadow then, seeing how the darker hedgehog is looking at him with nervous expectation.
“..Well I can see why,” Sonic smirks just slightly, watching some of Shadow’s nervousness deflate as he gives a small smile in return. Sonic almost lets his guard down at the sight but quickly looks away and puts his hands back on his hips, “But don’t think just because you show me a pretty place that means you’re off the hook.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Shadow chuckles before slowly moving to sit himself down. Sonic looks down at him, watching him a moment but deciding to stay standing.
He’s overthinking everything now. Every movement, every decision, every glance. It all feels heavier now. Different. It holds more meaning, more subliminal messaging, more tension. He always knew something was there, but he just chalked it up to the crazy situation they’re in. Not to the fact that Shadow was with a different version of himself.
Suddenly sitting next to Shadow feels almost intimate. Feels like he’s suggesting something he’s not trying to.. He doesn’t understand why this is getting under his skin so much, and that just makes him more frustrated.
“...I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.” “Why didn’t you?” Sonic’s ears flop back, brows knitting as their eyes meet. And add that to the list of things that feel different now: eye contact. “A lot of reasons,” Shadow starts with a sigh, moving to bend a leg and rest his arm on it while leaning back on his opposing hand that rests on the ground, “For starters, you didn’t exactly react well to the minimal amount of affection I did show you in the beginning.” Sonic frowns at that, “What d’ya mean??”
“You acted like I had three heads for just touching your hand,” Shadow points out. Sonic recalls the moment. How weirded out he had been by Shadow’s relief of his presence at the GUN medical wing. How he had stopped breathing for a moment when he placed his hand on Shadow’s shoulder, and Shadow had reached to hold it in response.
“In my defense, I had no idea you were an alternate version of my Shadow at that point–” saying my Shadow was also being added to the list of things he could overthink now, “--, and if you knew my Shadow, you’d a hundred percent see why I didn’t know how to handle that.”
“That’s another thing,” Shadow adds then, “I knew very little about you and your Shadow’s dynamic. And by the time I learned more, well.. It didn’t seem you’d take too well to hearing of my Sonic and I’s own relationship..”
Sonic fidgets a bit at that, his eyes averting from Shadow’s and looking down to watch his own foot lightly dust along the grass. Careful not to smush any flowers.
“Why would you think that??” “Because you.. Blame yourself for you and your Shadow’s own rocky relationship.”
Sonic frowns. His brows furrowing at the ground as his jaw tenses up. Shadow is right.. He already holds so much guilt over what happened during the ARK battle.. Over Shadow falling from space, assuming he was dead when he was really being held captive by Eggman. Cloned. And then manipulated by Black Doom. All because Sonic didn’t try hard enough. All because Sonic couldn’t save him.
“You.. already beat yourself up learning my Sonic and I were friends,” Shadow adds quietly, hand twitching as if he wants to reach for Sonic but doesn’t, “I didn’t want to make matters worse by saying we were much more than that..”
Sonic sighs heavily, closing his eyes and tilting his head up towards the dimming sky. It makes sense. Sonic practically fell apart in Shadow’s arms showing him the inhibitor ring he kept all these years. Why would Shadow feel like Sonic could handle knowing that his alternate and Shadow’s alternate were together-together in another world?.. A world where Sonic found him..
Sonic opens his eyes and looks back down at Shadow, finding the dark hedgehog looking right back at him with concern and ache. Like he wants to comfort him but isn’t sure he should. Isn’t sure how.
Sonic purses his lips and slowly moves to sit next to Shadow finally, scooting a bit closer to him as he hugs his knees up to his chest and looks down at the ground in the small space between them.
“..That’s fair,” Sonic admits after a long moment, breathing a tiny huff of a smile as his eyes flicker up to Shadow’s and then back down. Shadow gives a sad smile in response, that same look of longing in his eyes..
Sonic doesn’t know what to do with that. But he understands why Shadow looks at him like that a bit more, now. 
He misses his Sonic.
He’s sure if he was the other Sonic, Shadow would be comforting him right now the way he knows how. But given that he’s not the other Sonic..
Shadow likely is just as lost on how to handle Sonic right now as Sonic is on how to handle him.
“I guess I can’t blame ya,” Sonic confesses with a sigh and a shrug, looking back to his feet with a little chuckle, “I can be a bit.. Extreme.” “Extreme is an understatement,” Shadow smirks in response, the two sharing a little breathy laugh together. It’s bittersweet. Shadow sighs then, looking forward as well to look out over the flowers, “And as I’m sure you heard from the call, this is a trait you share with my own Sonic..” Sonic snorts then, “Yeah, dude was a bit excessive, huh?” “He has the right to be upset,” Shadow defends with a small and fond smile, “He’s passionate. He can’t help it.. He also misses me. Like I miss him.. I’m sure his own insecurities have been eating at him.. Neither of us take well to being separated for too long.” “Sounds like co-dependency issues,” Sonic smirks.
“Oh, you’re giving mental health advice now?” Shadow smirks right back, cocking a brow at Sonic playfully. “Just callin’ it how I see it,” Sonic shrugs with a chuckle, looking back to Shadow then.
Shadow hums a smile, looking at him thoughtfully before sighing out, “There’s probably some truth to that.. Separation anxiety at the least.” “Didn’t think any version of me would ever be so clingy,” Sonic snickers teasingly.
“You’d be surprised,” Shadow rolls his eyes, but there’s a adoring tone to it, “Though, I wouldn’t call it clingy.. We’re just.. Connected.” Sonic swallows, recalling the first and only time he and Shadow have gone super together.. The ARK battle. How they had been so in sync, so together, so one..
And then Shadow fell and didn’t remember any of it.
“...I get it,” Sonic admits after a moment, pursing his lips and looking down at the flowers beside him again. His hand moving to run absentmindedly over the tops of the petals. “..Is it nice?” “Hm?” “Being like that?” Sonic elaborates, “...Connected? With someone who can really understand? Who gets it?..”
“It’s..,” Shadow pauses thoughtfully, trying to find the right words but finding its indescribable. So instead he simply settles on, “relieving..” Sonic looks at Shadow again. Shadow smiles, “It’s home.” Home.
Sonic doesn’t have one of those..
That starts to weigh too heavy on Sonic, so he quickly averts the conversation a different direction, “Is it weird?” “What??” “Being around a Sonic who isn’t crazy about you..?” Shadow laughs at that, and Sonic’s heart flips. It’s still so odd seeing Shadow smile, let alone laugh.
“Sometimes,” Shadow’s laugh eases, a soft smile on his muzzle as he tilts his head at Sonic, “..But I find you and he are more alike than you’d think.” “Hm,” Sonic shakes his head, “Not possible. There’s only one me.”
Shadow snorts, “That’s fair.. But you’re definitely the same soul.. A kindred spirit.” Sonic smiles a bit at that, “...You think you and my Shadow are like that?.. Kindred spirits? Share a soul?” Shadow’s lips purse, thinking a moment before replying, “Perhaps.. For a long time, I considered myself soulless.. But I suppose that’s not true, is it?” Sonic shakes his head with a tiny knit in his brows. Shadow smirks at him.
“...You’re wondering if it’s possible.”
“What?” “For you and your Shadow.. That if things had been different, if you and your Shadow would’ve been like my Sonic and I.”
Sonic blushes. The tips of his ears go pink, eyes widening slightly as he quickly looks away and snorts, “Psh! Am not.” He rubs a finger under his nose, ignoring the amused snicker coming from Shadow. “I already know the answer to that anyway. No way, no how.” “Oh?” “Yeah! Me and Shadow, we-.. It’s not like that for us..,” Sonic tries really hard not to let any sort of disappointment show through his tone, he really does.
But he fails.
He tries to recover with a nonchalant shrug and perk of his ears, “I’m not disappointed or nothin’. It is what it is. As long as Shadow ends up happy, that’s all I can really hope for. He’s seen enough shit in his time; he deserves whatever he needs to find peace..”
Shadow’s smile softens, as does his gaze, “..Some would call your unconditional and somewhat sacrificial support love.” Sonic nearly chokes, speaking way too loudly by accident, “Yeah- well-.. That’s a really weird thing to say because I just call it being a good friend.”
Shadow chuckles warmly at that, looking at the side of Sonic’s face as the rising half blasted moon cascades it with cool light. He sighs quietly, brows knitting at the thought of having to leave this Sonic one day. He misses his own and would absolutely never choose another over him, but.. It does hurt his heart to know this Sonic will be left with.. no one.
He deserves more. Deserves better.
He can only hope that his own Sonic’s influence has been good on the alternate Shadow.. That perhaps the other Shadow will return here kinder and more understanding.
“Right..,” Shadow hums, “A good friend.”
“Yeah, don’t start projecting on me and shit– I’m not in love with no one.” “That means you are.” “What?” “In love. You said you’re ‘not’ in love with ‘no’ one. That’s a double-negative.” “Don’t get smartass with me, Faker, you know what I meant!”
“Oh?” “I’m serious!”
“Okay.”
“I’m not!” “Mhm.” “Stop it!” “Stop what??” “Stop– you know..” “Alright.”
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simpforchuchu · 1 day ago
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My Enemy’s Sister | Mitsuya Takashi x Haitani!reader - part3
a/n: Hello, it’s been a long time since I wrote for Tokyo Revengers. I’m watching season 2 again and wanted to write something for my dear Mitsuya… Anyway, I hope you like it 🌸💕
Sorry for the grammer or spelling mistakes.English is not my native language.
Thank you and love you 🥰
Warnings: fights, violence
part1 part2 
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“Where are you going, y/n?”
The young girl was about to leave the door when she was startled by her younger brother’s voice. Everyone in the house had been acting strangely since that night. She knew they wanted to protect her, but it was strange that they quickly dismissed her whenever she tried to ask them about Toman and Mitsuya.
That’s why she was going to go to Toman’s meeting place, which she had learned by giving money to a few people. She wanted to thank Mitsuya herself.
“I need to buy some materials for my project. By the way, can you give me some money?”
She didn’t need money. She had enough in her pocket. But the young girl didn’t forget to ask her brother for the materials so that he wouldn’t get suspicious. Rindou gave up his suspicious gaze and nodded. He handed her more money than she needed from his pocket and closed the front of the young girl’s jacket with his usual cold gaze.
Y/n smiled at what he did and put the money in her pocket. Ran had been cold towards her for a few days. Rindou, on the other hand, felt like he was stuck between the two. “See you, onii-chan!”
The young girl waved to her brother with a big smile and left the house. 
It wouldn't take long to get from Roppongi to the temple where Toman was meeting. She quickly walked to the train station and started looking out the window after finding the right platform. ***
After walking a little from the train station to the temple, she realized she was in the right place when she saw the boys in black uniforms and motorbikes. She realized now that she shouldn't have come here alone, but it was too late. So she took a little step forward with timid steps and called out to one of the boys. 
"Excuse me, can I ask you something?" 
Both of the boys had blonde hair, but one of them looked panicked. 
"Are you... lost? You shouldn't be here." 
"Takemichi, don't be that rude!" The other blonde scolded him, then turned to the young girl. 
"But he's right... You shouldn't be here, miss. Do you know where this place is?" 
Y/n nodded her head nervously. The two in front of her didn't look like bad people, but she was still scared. At that moment, a tall person appeared behind her and Y/n understood this from the shadow on the ground. She turned around in fear and looked at the tall, blonde, braided boy behind her in fear.
“Huh? A girl? What are you doing here?”
 Draken was surprised. He also thought the young girl’s face was familiar.
When Y/n took a step back in fear, the tall boy tried to change his expression, realizing that he scared her.
“If you’re lost, one of the boys can take you home, you don’t have to be afraid. Toman would never hurt girls.”
Y/n didn’t know if she should tell him why. She didn’t know if they knew Mitsuya, but she didn’t want to leave here without finding Mitsuya.
“I’m… looking for Mitsuya-san. My name is Y/n… Y/n Haitani.”
After the young girl said her name, all three of their eyes widened. The young girl smiled nervously, thinking that they might know her older brothers too.
“I guess you know my older brothers too… I didn’t know they were so famous…”
Draken was surprised at first.
“Haitani? You-”
When he realized that Chifuyu was about to say something, he stopped him with his hand, thinking that the young girl really didn’t know anything. Or was she stupid enough to come here knowing that her brothers were the most wanted criminals and Toman’s enemies? 
Draken slowly turned to the young girl
“Y/n-chan.. May I know why you’re looking for Mitsuya?”
When Draken asked the young girl this question, the young girl’s cheeks unintentionally blushed. Why was she looking for him? What was she going to tell him? Yes, she didn’t know either. 
“I… well…”
She was here to give him his kerchief, right? But she didn’t know why it was so hard to say. 
Just then, Mitsuya noticed Draken and the other two. And the young girl he saw the other night. 
“Y/n-chan?”
Y/n turned to him in surprise when she heard the voice she heard the other night. Mitsuya was also looking at her in surprise. Draken looked at the two. After making sure that they knew each other from their looks, he decided to talk about it later and dragged the two away with him.
“Mitsuya-san. I apologize for coming without telling you. But I didn’t know how else to find you.”
Mitsuya looked at the young girl’s shy face and smiled.
“It’s okay, y/n-chan, but as you can see, it��s not very safe here. Please don’t come here alone again.”
When Y/n sadly nodded her head, Mitsuya spoke in a softer tone, afraid that he was being rude.
“Your brothers… were they angry with you?”
Y/n was surprised by the question. Mitsuya knew how angry the Haitanis could be. Toman and them had always been enemies. The Haitanis especially didn’t like Mitsuya at all. So when they saw Y/n with him, he was afraid that their anger would be reflected on her.“No… They weren’t angry. They seemed more worried. And…Ran doesn’t talk to me much nowadays.” Y/n smiled sadly. “Ran and Rindou are little delinquents, but they’ve always been really sweet to me. It’s just… I don’t know what happened between you two, but they don’t really want me to talk to you.”
Mitsuya wasn’t surprised.
“Although, your friends don’t seem to like my brothers very much either.”
Mitsuya chuckled at Y/n’s smiling words. He could guess their faces when she said her last name. Besides, Y/n looked a lot like her brothers. Anyone could guess that.
“We had a fight with your brothers, so we never got along.”
Of course, he wasn’t going to tell her how dangerous her brothers were. Y/n thought they were just little hooligans.
“I see…” the girl nodded. “By the way-“ Y/n took out Mitsuya’s kerchief from her pocket. She also took out a new one too and smiled. “I couldn’t get the blood stain out, no matter how much I washed it. That's why I bought a new one for you." 
Mitsuya laughed and took the kerchiefs from the young girl's hand. He put them in his uniform pocket and looked into Y/n's eyes. 
"Thank you, Y/n-chan. I hope I don't have to use them again." 
Y/n laughed and nodded. 
"I hope so, Mitsuya-san. Again, I apologize for my older brothers' rude attitude. They-" 
Mitsuya smiled 
"I can understand them, Y/n. I have two little sisters too, I know what it means to be an older brother." Y/n smiled. Mitsuya was a good person, if his older brothers knew him better, they would definitely love him. 
"Thank you. I... I should probably go now." 
Mitsuya nodded when he saw Toman slowly starting to gathering. He took out his phone and quickly texted Mikey. 
"At least let me drop you off at the train station, Y/n-chan. It's getting dark." 
Y/n stared at the boy smiling at her in surprise for a while. Could someone really smile that beautifully?
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jessicaloons · 3 days ago
Text
Miss Americana and the Heartbreak Prince:
Chapter 10
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Masterlist - Previous - Next
The Heartbreak Prince
"Arthur, I don’t have time for this. Who ever Lindsay is, Maman knows what’s she’s doing…" Charles’s groaned, waving at the sea of fans that were waiting for them at the Whitleburry Hall hotel close to the track.
"Lauren. The girls name is Lauren." his little brother retorted, waving at some girls screaming his name.
"Whatever. It’s not something I need to think about as well, okay?" the Ferrari driver smiled at his fans, signing pictures of himself and taking selfie after selfie, when the security guards waved him in he looked at his brother, who waited together with Joris for him "Also, why are you so interested in Larissa?"
"Lauren! Are you even listening?" Arthur sighed frustrated, leaning against the steel wall of the elevator.
"Honestly? No. I don’t. Like I said, I have other things on my mind." the older Leclerc scratched his chin.
"Oh, whatever…"
"Why does this bother you so much?" Joris asked when they left the elevator, looking for their rooms "Since when are you this interested in your mother’s business?"
"I’m not! It’s just-… it was the way she said the name? The way she smiled? I don’t know, I’m just curious…" Arthur sighed and Charles patted his shoulder.
"Listen, whoever Leonore is, Maman will know what she’s doing. So can we now please focus on this weekend? Yeah? I need a good weekend, you as well… so stop thinking about some girl you’ve never even met and start focusing on your job…"
"FUCKING HELL, HER NAME IS LAUREN!" Arthur spat out, pushing his brother’s hand off his shoulder, entering his hotel room "You’re doing this on purpose!" and with that he slammed the door shut.
"That was childish…" Joris rolled his eyes and Charles nodded.
"It was…"
"Not him, you! Oh don’t look at me like that! You were riling him up on purpose!"
"I swear I didn’t. I just don’t have time to remember irrelevant things!" he unlocked the hotel room and put his stuff down "I’m in no position to think about other things then the race weekends ahead and how I can thank my mother to take care of Ava this much. And if Maman hires someone to help her out, I honestly shouldn’t question it. She’s the reason why I can still have my career while being a single father…"
"Maybe you should offer her to pay the-…" Joris began but Charles interrupted him.
"I should pay the salary of Lynette!"
"Oh now you’re messing with me as well!" his best friend threw a pillow at him and Charles caught it laughing.
"I have no idea what you’re talking about… can we focus now on Silverstone?"
"No water. No radio. No car that’s doing what I want. What a shit show…" Charles muttered underneath his breath when he got out of a van at the airport and grabbed his bags, waving at some fans at the fence.
He sighed, the weekend was a disaster with a mediocre qualifying and then a bad race with a 5 second penalty for speeding in the pit lane and a disappointing P7 at the end. He wanted to leave. He had to leave.
"It wasn’t the best of weekends, that’s for sure…" Joris nodded, taking his bags.
"The only good thing about this weekend was that it was the penultimate race before the summer break…"
"Yeah, I think you never needed it this badly…"
"I just want 3 weeks with Ava in the sun, far away from camera’s, fans and all of this." the driver nodded towards some screens that showed the race highlights.
The two men followed the airport hostess to their secluded terminal where another surprise waited for them.
"I know that look…" Charles began, looking at the red head in front of him.
"Charles, there is a problem…" Silvia said slowly, her eyes wary "There’s no easy way to say this, but your jet… it’s not here. You have to take a commercial flight… and the next one available is at 6:25 am."
Charles was too stunned to speak. Her words hit him like a freight train. 6:25 am?
"What?" was all he mustered to say, taking a deep breath.
"The jet is not here. You have to fly commercial."
"Are you serious? What do you mean the jet is not here? And isn’t there an earlier commercial flight? Like tonight maybe?" Charles looked at Silvia with wide eyes.
"The booking wasn’t confirmed… and now the jet is booked for a different flight…"
"I have to be at home tonight, Silvia. My mother is leaving early in the morning and I told her it’ll be just fine! I can’t miss this flight!"
"Well, technically you’re not missing your flight… also, you’re not the only one who has to go back ho-…"
"But no one else has to be at home because their mother can’t watch their daughter forever!" Charles whisper shouted frustrated, his mind racing. Always when he thought a weekend couldn’t end worse, life was showing him just how worse it really could be, now that he stood in the little terminal for private jets, with no way to fly back home "Fuck!" he let out frustrated, typing away on his phone.
"I don’t know what else-…" Silvia began when Charles shook his head, walking away to call Lorenzo.
"Charles?" a voice behind him made Charles flinch, turning around to look at Max "You okay, mate?"
"Of course, an amazing weekend with an amazing end, no?" he pressed out, not in the mood for more unnecessary conversation.
"Umm-… sure. I overheard-… well who didn’t? You weren’t speaking quietly. Anyways, if you have to be in Monaco this urgently, you could fly with us? I have two seats left?" the Red Bull driver offered and Charles cocked an eyebrow.
"Are you sure?"
"I mean, yeah, it’s not the first time we share a jet, it’s been a while but… yeah you know, I don’t know why you have to be in Monaco, but your voice tells me it must be important…" Max replied, tilting his head.
"It really is. I- umm… I promised my mum to be at home tonight. She needs me…" the Monegasque driver said vaguely and Max nodded.
"Alright, then come on, you and Joris can join us."
"She’s amazing. She helps me so much… I can now fully divide my time between the salon and my gorgeous granddaughter… leaving for the convention tomorrow was also only possible because of her!" Pascale raved about her new assistant while feeding Ava "Best decision ever to hire her."
"I didn’t even know you were looking for an assistant and now you constantly talk about her?" Arthur asked, looking up from his tablet.
"Constantly? She’s here now for what? A month? A little more?" Pascale rolled her eyes "Also, I wasn’t looking for an assistant, it was more coincidental, you know? She got a haircut, we talked and et voila I hired her… and she’s doing such an amazing job! She manages the whole salon on her own! I just have to come and cut some hair and then I can leave already because she took care of the rest…"
"As long as she’s a help for you…" Arthur shrugged, right when Charles walked in, hair still damp from his shower.
"Who’s a help for who?" the older Leclerc brother asked, gently kissing his daughters fingers.
"My new assistant-…" his mother began but got interrupted by her youngest son.
"L-a-u-r-e-n… you remember? Maman is raving about her for the past weeks now…"
"You hired a new assistant?" Charles asked, ignoring his brothers eye rolling while sitting down next to her, watching her feed his daughter.
"Yes, it was all really spontaneous. I gave her a haircut, we talked, and then I hired her and believe me Charles, she’s amazing. A hard worker, sweet and charming to all my clients, always polite. She’s a quick learner, amazing with her hands… and don’t let me start on how beautiful she is! She could be a model for sure…"
"Oh yeah? I might have to visit you then in the salon…" Arthur wiggled his eyebrows, earning a slap on his upper arm from his mother "Ouch! What was that for?"
"You have a beautiful girlfriend yourself. Behave!" she replied and then turned slightly to her other son "You on the other hand…"
"Stop. No. Don’t do that, Maman!" Charles rolled his eyes, groaning. He was too exhausted for this. It was the middle of the night, he was tired, frustrated from the weekend and not in the mood for his mother’s attempts to meddle with his love life. He knew her all too well. How she always eyed up his girlfriends, saying him that she wasn’t the one and frankly she was right every single time, but it wasn’t something she had to know.
"Don’t do what?" his mother asked innocently.
"You’re not setting me up with your new assistant-…"
"I wasn’t! I just said that if someone wanted to come over and get to know her it should’ve been you. The single one." Pascale shrugged her shoulders, cooing at her granddaughter.
"Single father…" Charles replied, sighing.
"I don’t think that would be a problem for La-…"
"See! You want to set me up with her. No. Not happening. I have Ava and my career. That’s all I need."
"I didn’t say-…" Pascale began but then shook her head "Whatever, Charles. But just so you know, you would love her. You all would, I for sure am. That’s all I’m saying."
"Yeah, yeah…"
"Alright, now that you’re here, I can go home and have some sleep before I have to get up and leave." Pascale leaned over, laying Ava down in her father’s arms "I’m glad we didn’t have to stick to plan B…"
"I am able to take care of her!" Arthur rolled his eyes.
"Sure you can…" his mother patted his arm "Now come on, you have to drive me home."
"Fine." he got up as well, gently stroking his nieces arm "Good night, little Ava. Charles." he winked at his older brother who smiled lazily, watching his daughter fighting off the inevitable sleep.
As soon as his mother and brother left, Charles got up and laid Ava down in her bassinet, his own tiredness and exhaustion slightly taking over. He pulled the bassinet next to his bed and laid down, watching his daughters every little movement.
"Good night my pretty little princess. Daddy’s here now…" he whispered, before he fell asleep almost immediately.
Charles woke up from Ava’s crying and whimpering. Worse than anything he ever heard before. He was up in an instant, switching on the bedside lamp.
"Hey my little angel, what’s up?" he cooed at her, gently scooping her up, her tears dampen his shirt "Hey, hey, hey. What’s the matter baby girl, hmm?" he patted her back gently, rocking her in his arms "Are you hungry?" he got up and made his way to the kitchen, preparing a bottle, all while Ava cried and whimpered into his chest. He never heard her cry like this before, his heart braking with every new sound from his little girl and when he 10 minutes later sat down with her, trying to feed her he had to learn that it wasn’t the bottle she wanted "Fresh diaper then?" but again, not what was wrong. Charles sat in his bed, rocking Ava who got squirmier with every second, her little sobs making her tiny body shake, which made Charles heart clench "What is it, Ava? Hmm? You’re not hungry, your diaper is clean. What do you need baby girl?" he turned her a little, so he could look into her eyes, tears staining her face. She was pale. But her nose and cheeks were red. Her hair felt like it was a little damp. Charles gently stroked her cheeks and he thought they felt warmer than usual. But was it a fever? Or was it now from crying that much? Charles checked his phone. It was 5:46 am. Ava was awake over half an hour earlier than usual as well "We should try to sleep a little more baby girl… let’s put something on the TV and then try to sleep a little more…" Charles scooted into the middle of his bed, propped up a little against the headboard so that Ava could sleep on his chest, pillows on his left and right in case he fell asleep that Ava was safe. Then he put her down on his thighs and took off his shirt, remembering what the nurse told him the night Ava was born, and put her back on his chest, pulling the blanket over them "Look at that. A nice documentary narrated by David Attenborough… with his soothing voice, we’ll be sleeping in no time…" Charles cooed at Ava, gently rubbing circles on her back. And he was right it didn’t take long for her to fall asleep again. Not her peacefullest one, but she slept. And with her finally settling down, Charles followed shortly after. But not for too long. From the moment Ava woke up an hour later her crying got worse. Her tiny sobs sounded as if she was having a cold and Charles wondered what he should do. When he was having a cold he drank hot tea, took some medication and that was it. But what was he supposed to do with Ava? He grabbed his phone, already dialling his mother’s number when he hung up. His mother was already on her way to the convention and he knew she would turn around immediately. He had to figure it out himself. So he googled. But the results were all too different. Too many different opinions on what to do and he was confused. He was rocking Ava in his arms, pacing back and forth in his apartment, when he called Enzo, asking for help from Charlotte but his older brother told him that she wouldn’t be home for the next couple of hours.
"What’s wrong with her?" Enzo asked, sensing his brother’s distress "I can be at yours in 10 minutes?"
"She’s just not calming down. I tried to feed her, she’s not really eating much. She’s changed, so that shouldn’t be a problem, she can’t be tired because she doesn’t want to sleep. And… she feels a little warmer than normally? She’s a little sweaty… I don’t know what to do? I’m feeling like Maman would know what to do, but I can’t call her. Not when she finally, after years, does something for herself again!"
"Charles, maybe you should go and see a doctor?" Enzo suggested "I can drive you there?"
"I don’t even know who her doctor is…" Charles whispered "I have no idea… Maman took her to the doctor the last times…" he felt like the worst father on earth.
"It’s at the children ward at the hospital. Get ready I’ll pick you up in 10."
"It’s okay, baby girl, we’re going to see a doctor, you’ll be fine. Just fine…" Charles whispered, looking outside the car window, checking where they were "Just a little longer, Ava."
"Almost there." Lorenzo said, looking into the rearview mirror, seeing his brother’s pale face, jaw tightened "5 minutes…"
"You hear that? Almost there, little princess." Charles gently stroked Ava’s cheek, feeling her warm skin "Almost there…"
"I’ll drop you off and then I’ll head to the airport picking Charlotte up… and you let me know what’s up with Ava, okay? And when I have to pick you up…" Lorenzo said.
"Yeah…" Charles mumbled, unbuckling his seatbelt the moment his brother stopped in front of the hospital.
He got out of the car and opened the boot of the car, taking out Ava’s stroller.
"Here you go…" Enzo gently laid his niece down "It’s going to be alright, little Ava." he cooed at her, pulling the blanket over her "Call me, whatever it is, if you need me, don’t want to feel so alone, just call me, okay?" he then said to his brother, hugging him "It’s going to be okay, you hear me?"
"Okay… yeah…" Charles replied "And thanks for driving us… I’m not sure I would’ve been able to drive safely…"
"It’s okay. Now go inside…" Lorenzo patted his back and Charles nodded, pushing Ava’s stroller to the entrance, through the doors to the front desk.
"Hi, umm- I need a doctor, no, my daughter needs a doctor, she’s restless and she feels hot and sweaty and I don’t know what to do, the temperature is rising I think? My mum- she umm, she was here before with Ava, my daughter…" Charles stammered, looking at the nurse who smiled at him.
"Okay, so your daughter’s doctor is here at the children’s ward?" she asked and he nodded "Okay, do you know where the children’s ward is? No, okay… follow the rainbow coloured line on the floor, to your right…" she pointed at the different coloured lines on the floor and Charles nodded.
"Thank you." he replied and walked off, following the line through the hallways until he arrived at a glass door, children’s ward written in colourful letters on it "We did it, baby girl, just a moment… they will help you…" right when he wanted to push the door open it sprang open and an older looking nurse walked out, looking at him.
"Can I help you?" she asked.
"Umm yes-… this is Ava, my daughter, she umm- she needs a doctor, she’s sick I think…" Charles said and the nurse cocked an eyebrow, looking into the stroller.
"Ava? So you are Ava’s father, I was wondering when we would see you here…" she said, nodding towards the front desk inside the children’s ward "Go on in there…"
"Umm- okay." Charles was a little confused by the icy tone of the nurse but he couldn’t think too much about it, walking to the front desk "Hi, my daughter needs a doctor. She’s restless and cries a lot, she didn’t sleep much, doesn’t want to eat and she feels warmer than usual… I think she has a cold…" he explained to the nurse behind the desk and she got up immediately.
"Alright, please follow me…" she brought them into an examination room and helped Charles with getting Ava out of the stroller, taking off her jacket, right when the door opened again "Could you please fill out the paperwork with Mr. …?"
"Leclerc… I’m Charles and this is Ava…" Charles replied and the nurse nodded.
"Alright, can you please help Mr. Leclerc with the paperwork?"
"And Ava?" he asked, his eyes widened.
"Don’t worry, Mr. Leclerc, the doctor will be here shortly, I’ll take care of her, and as soon as you’re done with the papers you’ll be back with your daughter." the nurse smiled and he nodded "It won’t take long, don’t worry. And I’m here, taking care of Ava."
"Mr. Leclerc, would you please follow me?" the other nurse lead him outside and Charles followed her hesitantly "Don’t worry, she’s in really good hands. I just need you to fill out these documents, you can sit down there…" she pointed at some chairs lined up at the wall of the hallway and Charles took the clipboard and sat down, scribbling away.
Charles hands were a little shaky, he never liked hospitals, too many people did he lose in one. But for Ava he had to be strong, push the negative thoughts away and focus on her wellbeing. When he was done with the paperwork he looked up, but the nurse wasn’t sitting behind her desk and he looked to the left, where two women walked up to him.
"Mr. Leclerc? Hi, I’m Cleo Bernoit, this is Marianne Goulard, we’re from the CPS in Monaco…" the blonde woman began.
"CPS?" Charles interrupted, looking confused between the two women.
"Child protective services…"
"What? Are you kidding me? Why?" he was at a loss of words, confused and scared.
"Someone called us after the incident with your daughter… it’s a standard procedure. Mandatory." the red haired woman, Marianne, said "And since we have an office here in the hospital, we just want to check in quickly."
"You see, you’re a single father with a demanding job. We’re just here to make sure that everything is alright." Cleo added and Charles swallowed hard.
"Umm- okay… but it wasn’t really an incident? I just wasn’t sure what to do and couldn’t reach my mum, that’s why I brought her to the emergency room…" he mumbled, his hands gripping his thighs tightly, knuckles turning white "She was restless, cried and felt a little warmer then usually. I couldn’t calm her down. So yeah, I thought taking her here would be the best."
"I see. Does this happen more often?" the blond woman asked.
"That she’s restless and cries and I can’t calm her down? Or what? The slightly higher temperature?" Charles was confused.
"No, that you need to check in with your mother, regarding your daughter’s health." the redhead said.
"What?" he was taken aback "What do you mean?"
"Ava is your daughter. You’re the one responsible for her and-…"
"I know that she’s my daughter and I’m responsible for her. But she’s also my first child, I don’t know everything about babies yet and before I make a mistake I check in with my mother, who successfully raised three kids-…" Charles began, his voice wavering with emotions.
"We know that Mr. Leclerc. It’s just… we’ve been notified that for the last two check-ups, it was your mother who brought Ava in. Not you." the redhead said and Charles eyes widened "And when Ava got her second round of vaccines a month ago, it was also your mother who brought her in again…" she continued.
"Yes. Because I had to work. And while I’m being away working, my mother takes care of her granddaughter. Is there a problem with that?" he said.
"Mr. Leclerc. Ava is your daughter, she’s not even three months old but you are more interested in travelling the world then-…"
Charles had enough. He got up from his seat, his hands balled into fists, breathing heavy.
"I am not more interested in travelling the world than being with my daughter. It is my job. I am a Formula 1 driver. Travelling the world is my job. I am a single father who is more than grateful that his mum takes care of his daughter while he’s away, working. Excuse me, but I want to see my daughter now." his voice was dangerously low, his anger and frustration palpable.
He walked away towards the nurses station, already typing a message out for his mother.
"Hi, can I see my daughter now?" Charles asked the nurse who smiled at him, taking the clipboard from him, looking it over.
"Let me just check if you didn’t forget anything and then we-…" she began.
"No. I want to see her. Now." his voice louder than intended.
"No, of course not, Mr. Leclerc, follow me…" the nurse got up from her seat and gestured for Charles to follow her, down the hall.
"Thank you-… I didn’t want to get loud and be rude. I was just-… I’m just scared and frustrated… I shouldn’t have let it out at you…" he stammered but the nurse just smiled at him.
"It’s okay, it’s your first child, that’s normal." she patted his arm and stopped in front of a door, knocking gently "Dr. Richefort? I have Mr. Leclerc here, little Ava’s dad, can we-"
"Of course, of course, come on in, Mr. Leclerc!" an older man waved Charles inside and he hastily walked in, his eyes immediately on Ava in a little bassinet on the table, the other nurse holding out a teddy bear to her "Everything is alright with your little one. Just a little fever and stuffed nose, nothing out of the ordinary, that happens sometimes."
"She’s okay?" the young father whispered, his eyes rooted on his daughters face "Nothing serious?"
"Nothing serious. Nothing a warm bath in a little steamy bathroom can’t cure. Close all windows and doors, start the shower with hot water and let some steam build in the room, that’s perfect for her nose and lungs. I gave her some syrup to calm her down and reduce the fever, I wrote that one up for you to get as well as something for her stuffed nose." Dr. Richefort said and he was relieved, cupping Ava’s cheek who was smiling lazily, playing with the doctor’s stethoscope now.
"I can take her home?" Charles asked, looking up.
"Of course, I don’t see any reason why not. Just get her medicine and give her something of the syrup before bed and she should be perfectly fine in one or two days. You’re good to go." the doctor nodded to the nurse who grabbed Ava’s onesie from a stool helping Charles getting her ready.
His eyes didn’t leave Ava’s face for one second, his heart racing. As soon as his little one was safely in her stroller and the Doctor handed him the prescription for the pharmacy, the nurse showed him the way outside.
"Can I ask you something?" Charles had to know "Why did you call the CPS?"
"CPS? They were here?" she stopped, looking at him "Why?" she seemed genuinely confused opening the door for Charles and the stroller.
"Yeah… they said it’s mandatory, after all I wasn’t with Ava for her last check-ups and that because my mum was taking care more of her than I am…" he almost whispered and the blonde woman thought for a moment before she sighed, shaking her head.
"Angelique… the head nurse. She’s one of the older nurses here. Very settled in her way of thinking and how families are supposed to look like. Single parents? God no! Worse, a single father? Who works? I bet it was her. She’s the one who does the administrative stuff like that… I’m very sorry that she called them…"
"The older nurse who opened the doors when I arrived?"
"I didn’t see, but yeah, that could be…"
"Am I on their watchlist now?" Charles asked when they entered the foyer of the hospital "Now that they looked into my-no Ava’s file?"
"I wish I could say no… but the truth is, now that you got their attention, they will have an eye on you… I’m sorry. I’ve seen you with your little girl and I think you’re doing a good job…" she said genuinely and Charles mustered a tiny smile.
"Thanks… have a nice day." he walked out of the door, waving the nurse goodbye.
As soon as Charles was outside he put on his shades and a baseball cap, hoping that no one would recognise him. He made a mental note to call his lawyer later on, not sure if she could do anything about the CPS and also the fact that he was here today. Ava was sleeping in her stroller and he decided a nice little walk would do them some good. Some fresh air. He also knew that Ava slept the best in her stroller, the slightly bumpy sidewalks rocking her gently in her stroller, making it perfect for a nice long slumber. Like that he could also stop at the little pharmacy that was far off the usual busy streets of Monaco, getting Ava’s medicine.
Charles decided to make a little stop at the harbour, enjoying the sun, calming down his nerves. His mind was racing. The fact that someone called the CPS on him was bad enough, but to think that because of that, all the hard work to keep Ava safe and a secret were for nothing was worse. He tried his best to be at home with her as much as he could. Took it upon him to travel in between races back home where he usually would just straight fly to the next race. Even if it was only for a couple of hours, he didn’t miss a single chance to see her if possible. Was it ideal? No. He knew that. He felt it. He missed her. Every single minute he was gone, he missed her like crazy. But he couldn’t ask his mother to travel with him around the world so Ava could come with him. His mother had her own life and it wasn’t fair to ask that of her. She probably would agree, she would sacrifice everything for her children and now granddaughter. Charles leaned back, sighing.
"What the hell am I supposed to do?" he mumbled when Ava stirred in her stroller, waking up crying "Hey, baby girl, it’s alright… all good…" he gently picked her up and held her close to his chest, rocking her slowly "It’s all good my little princess…"
But it wasn’t. Ava’s cries were getting louder, making Charles trying desperately to calm her down. He looked up in the sky once, sending a prayer out for anyone to help him.
"It’s the sunglasses, you know?" a gentle voice commented, making Charles flinch, he didn’t notice that someone was sitting on one of the other benches.
"Sorry?" he asked confused.
"Lose the sunglasses, yeah and maybe the cap too…" a pretty girl replied, her eyes shining "She wants to see you, but she can’t…" her beautiful smile almost made Charles heart skip a beat.
"Umm-… just… just take off the sunglasses and the cap? It’s that easy?" he cocked and eyebrow but did as told after he looked around for a moment, making sure that no one else was around.
"I mean, it could be… it’s worth a try, now she can look at her dad, sees that you’re looking at her too… that you’re here for her." the girl explained and Charles nodded slowly, looking down at Ava.
"I’m here, Ava. It’s all good…" he smiled at his daughter, kissing her forehead, when she seemed to calm down a little.
"Or she’s just hungry or needs new nappies…" the girl continued and Charles looked at her.
"So you’re just throwing out some guesses? You’re not some kind of a baby guru?" he chuckled a little and the girl shook her head "What a shame, I could’ve used one…" he mumbled and she looked at him "Sorry… it’s- it’s been a short night. And a way too long day…"
"No need to apologise. I know how you feel…"
"You have one as well?" the young man looked at her with big eyes, sounding surprised "Sorry! I shouldn’t have said it like that… it’s just you look quiet young? I mean not that it’s bad to be a young mother! It’s great, like you know… I think I better just shut up…" he groaned, shaking his head and the girl had to stifle a laugh.
"I mean I am young. But not too young… but no, I don’t have one… I worked with some tho…" she replied.
"You worked with babies?"
"I‘m a paediatric nurse…"
"Padric what?" Charles was confused, tilting his head a little.
"Paediatric nurse… kids… I was trained especially for kids and did some hours on the new born ward…" she explained.
"Oh! Wow! You’re more than qualified to give some advice then…" he looked at her "You’re here on vacation?"
"No… I moved here actually… just a couple of weeks ago, still trying to get used to everything…" the girl replied and he nodded.
"Don’t worry, not all Monegasques are as lost as me and need help from a pretty stranger…" Charles said and then blushed, the moment he realised what he just had said out loud.
"Oh- umm… it’s alright… don’t worry…" the girls cheeks were turning red.
"I- I should go… I have to put her down soon…" Charles carefully laid his daughter in the stroller next to them and put his cap and sunglasses back on "Thanks for umm- for the help…"
"Sure. If she’s still a little grumpy later on, you should try a warm bath…" the pretty girl got up as well "Umm-… bye."
"Yeah-… umm bye…" Charles turned around and pushed the stroller in front of him before he stopped again, turning a little "Oh and welcome to Monaco."
"Thanks." she smiled back at him, making Charles heart definitely skip a beat.
"I’m Charles, by the way. Maybe I’ll see you around some time, Monaco is almost like a little village." he chuckled and she nodded, turning around, walking away "Well now I need to see her again…" he mumbled, cooing at Ava "She didn’t tell me her name."
"Charles?"
"Hmm?" he blinked looking at his mother "What?"
"What happened then?" she asked and he was confused for a moment, the smile of the pretty stranger in the back of his mind "You left the hospital and then? Did you hear from the CPS again?"
"No. Not yet… I mean it’s just 2 days ago, no? I didn’t give them any reason…" Charles sighed.
"You must’ve been scared, after they jumped at you like that?" Pascale patted his arm and he sighed.
"Yeah… it was scary… but yeah I mean, it’s like this. I can’t change it, not now at least, I’m leaving for Spa in an hour…"
"The most important thing is that Ava is healthy. She’s all good, you took care of her just like a good dad would. The rest we’ll figure out." Charles’ mother smiled at him and he nodded slowly "Okay, there is something else? Since I’m back your thoughts seem to drift away every now and then? And you have this smile on your face? What happened? You’re going from worried to happy and dreamy in a heartbeat?"
"Hmm? What?" Charles looked at her, scratching his beard.
"You don’t even listen to me? What happened?" Pascale cocked an eyebrow and he averted his gaze immediately, looking at Ava "You can’t even look me in the eyes?"
"I don’t know what you mean…" he replied, a soft smile on his lips, when he thought back to the girl from the harbour "I’m just happy that Ava is all good… and now I should check that I packed everything…"
"No, I know you… there’s something else… it’s almost like…" Pascale began, when Joris plopped down next to her on the sofa.
"It’s almost like he has a crush on someone. I know that smile, almost a little dumb... and the fact he can’t look us in the eyes when we ask him what’s going on? How he changes the topic? Charles met someone…" he chuckled and his best friend groaned, although he began to blush slightly "And now look at his face! He’s blushing!"
"You really met someone! And that someone must’ve left quite the impression on you… I mean, look at you!" Pascale grinned, although she was a little disappointed that she couldn’t introduce Lauren earlier to her son "Who is she? Where did you meet her?"
"Okay, okay. Calm down. I met her once. After the hospital, I don’t know her name, or anything. She helped me with Ava. She was amazing. But that’s it. I don’t have a crush. Or anything like that, okay?" Charles said but his mother and best friend just exchanged glances and he knew that he shouldn’t have said anything "Can we please leave it be? I have one last race before the summer break. Let me focus on that and then after you can annoy me again?"
"Oh you can bet on it…" Joris laughed and Pascale nodded.
"I can’t wait to hear more of it…" she added.
"Alright, now let me enjoy the last minutes with my little princess before we have to leave."
Lauren swiped the floor clean, when the phone rang and Pascale answered the call, smiling while speaking in a soft voice. The young girl continued with cleaning the mirrors and wiped the console tables underneath, storing away the cleaning utilities as soon as she was done.
"La porte de derrière est ouverte... D’accord."
Lauren thought for a moment, trying to translate what Pascale had said.
"The backdoor is open." Pascale said, looking at the young girl "You tilt your head and poke out your tongue, when you’re trying to translate what was said…"
"Oh…" how embarrassing.
"You’ll finally meet one of my sons, Charles is coming over. " her voice was always filled with love and pride as soon as she mentioned one of her sons, it made Lauren’s heart swell, hearing her talk so fondly and adoringly of her sons.
But at the same time it also stung a little, making her miss her mother even more.
"Charles? He’s the youngest?"
"Middle."
"Oh, okay." Lauren nodded, storing away some bottles, when a breathtakingly handsome young man, stepped out of the hallway, a young man Lauren knew from somewhere.
"Charles, come in, come in. I want you to meet Lauren-…" Pascale switched to English, making her son cock an eyebrow.
"Your new assistant you can’t stop talking about?" he chuckled and Pascale nodded, he then followed his mothers look and as soon as his eyes landed on Lauren his whole face lit up, something his mother noticed, making her grin "It’s you! The girl from the park!"
"You two know ea-… wait? The girl from the park? OH! The girl from the park!" Pascale made big eyes, a big smile spreading on her face.
Charles blushed immediately, but he wasn’t alone, Laurens eyes widened and her cheeks were turning red, he was talking about her?
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Chapter 10 - I AM SO SORRY FOR THE LONG WAIT! Life was messy, hectic and really a lot these last weeks and I didn’t want to post something only okayish. It finally happened. Lauren and Charles officially met ♥️ now the real party starts hehehe
Please leave a comment/ like/ reblog/ message and tell me how you liked it! I'm dying to hear your thoughts!
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Last but not least, English is not my first language and although I tried my best: please excuse any mistakes I made!
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@glitterquadricorn @lottalove4evelyn @janeh22 @itsjustkhaos @mariclerc @fangirlforever2000
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