#i'm having a great party when this man finally kicks it

[spiltcandycoatedpunkblood]

I cannot tell you how much I want D*pp fucking dead. He's going to Spain for a talk show where Amber and her little girl are in a safe place. I need him suffering and miserable and most of all, fucking DEAD.

[undreaming-fanfiction]

Okay, so vampire Eddie is a pretty standard trope at this point, but may I offer...Twilight vampire Eddie who is absolutely pissed off about his sparkly existence?

Eddie actually isn't that old, he was turned in the 80s when he was around 20. He lives with his small and not only vampire family. There's patriarch Wayne, his partner Scott who always becomes a teacher no matter where they move, Claudia Henderson and her son that have been with them ever since Scott noticed Dustin being unusually quiet in his class and soon after, Wayne kicked out his abusive father.

The problem with living with a smart man who loves educating people and a man who never received the education he deserved is - they take school really, really seriously. Whenever they move, Eddie usually has to re-join high school, it's all "just so that you have some socialization! Also we need to be able to blend in, so look around and see what's normal with young people! Also I'm pretty sure some of the stuff we know is now obsolete or disproven, so make sure to tell us!". And Eddie loves Wayne and Scott, he really does, but he had trouble blending in even when he was alive, so now? Impossible. As for gathering information, Eddie has been trying for decades to explain to Wayne that even if becoming a vampire healed the wounds from the lynching mob, it didn't do shit for his ADHD, so there. Wayne finds Eddie banging his head into a desk one day and chanting "WHAT-THE-FUCK-IS-TIK-TOK?!"

So yes, Eddie hates being a forever highschooler, but it also means he can run DnD clubs everywhere he joins and he's not even lynched for it like in the 80s, so hey, progress! He gets mostly content with his existence, except that he's fucking sparkly and can't turn into a bat, so what's the point?!

But then a huge group of people moves from the close town of Hawkins, they had a really fucked up earthquake - Wayne told him all about it, he often volunteered in rescue and high risk works, and he's never seen anything like it - and their little town becomes way more crowded. There are high school freshmen just begging to be introduced to his club, Hellfire, although one of them is scary observant and Eddie is really sure that Jane knows he's a vampire.

And then there's Steve Harrington. A young man with the prettiest hair ever who joined Eddie's class, apparently he needs to repeat the last year too because if your school burns down, you can't take final exams. He's stupidly pretty, snarky, bitchy, and even though he could be partying day and night and spending the rest of his time on dates, he prefers to hang around with the freshmen. Lucas tells him one day that Steve got badly hurt when he was digging through the collapsed middle school, finding and rescuing their whole group, and well...Eddie respects that. Dustin absolutely loves Steve and maybe Eddie feels a bit jealous, but he has to admit - the guy is cool.

The problem with Steve Harrington is this - he's seen so much shit that nothing really fazes him. Eddie loves shocking people. Steve is unshockable. It becomes their little game, they get close, Eddie realizes he has an embarrassing crush, all that jazz. He tries dropping hints, he slurps his bloody lunch from a bottle that has a "THIS IS DEFINITELY TOMATO JUICE AND NOTHING ELSE". He wears a cape. He adopts a horrible Dracula accent. Nothing works. Steve always just laughs and tells him that he's weird and that's why he likes him.

Finally, Eddie has enough. They walk in the woods to get high, Eddie decides to break the ice, he scoops up Steve, does his whole dashing-through-the-woods thing, and he hopes that he can finally share his secret with Steve.

Except Steve just pats his back and says "Wow, that was cool, man! You'd be amazing at track. Great core strength too," and Eddie's head implodes.

"Okay, Steve. Don't you think there's something rotten here?" he tries.

"I mean, it's the woods. Of course there's something rotting all the time."

Eddie tries again. "You've noticed something strange, haven't you. I'm inhumanly fast and strong."

"I sure didn't expect that! You must be secretly training. I didn't know this town had a gym."

Again. "My skin is pale white and ice cold."

Steve is watching a nearby squirrel instead of looking horrified. "Yeah, not all people tan great, Robin is like that too. And I told you, man. Your circulation is shit, you need better socks and some gloves too."

"My eyes change color."

"Yeah, I know, I do envy you that you can wear those cool contact lenses. My eyes are too dry for that."

Eddie is growing desperate, he's gesturing at the trees because Steve doesn't listen. "I speak like I'm from a different time."

"80s slashers will do that to you. You basically live on those. But I gotta admit that they're pretty fun. Oh look, she's got an acorn! Clever girl!"

"Very clever. Also I never eat or drink anything."

"Hey, I'm not judging. Some people prefer one or two meals in a day instead of the whole five meal thing."

Eddie feels like howling and he isn't even a werewolf. "I. DON'T. GO. INTO. THE. SUNLIGHT."

Steve's eyes finally leave the squirrel. "Duh. We've already established you can't tan."

And Eddie's had enough. He tears off his t-shirt, marches directly into the sunlight and throws the biggest tantrum of his life. "STEVEN HARRINGTON. PAY ATTENTION. I am 20. I have been 20 for a while now. You know what I am, right? I am a vampire. So ask me the question, what do we eat? That wasn't a fucking tomato juice Steven!!!"

Steve just watches him with quiet amusement, as if he's waiting for something.

Eddie doesn't notice. His monologue is reaching its most dramatic part. "I've killed people before! I'm the world's most dangerous predator!"

Steve snorts. "I saw you trip over your own feet in the cafeteria."

"Not the point!"

"You told a waitress "you too" when she told you to enjoy your meal."

Eddie actually howls now. "THE POINT IS." He spins in the sunlight and sees the reflections of light off his skin. "I wouldn't have minded becoming a vampire, but let me tell you. Being stuck in high school forever? Sucks. Craving chips and throwing them up whenever you try them? SUCKS. And thinking you've become the legendary creature of the night when you're a glorified glitter mascot?! And you can't even fly?! DOUBLE SUCKS."

He points at his bare glittering chest. "THIS THE SKIN OF A FUCKING DISCO BALL, STEVE!"

Steve just laughs and gets up from the tree stump he was sitting on. "Thanks for sharing. I was kinda hoping you'd finally ask me out since this is the first time we've had some privacy, but this was interesting too."

Eddie's sharing mania suddenly stops. He realizes he's shirtless in the middle of the forest, and his yelling has scared off the squirrel. He promptly grabs his shirt and puts in on. "Um. You...you wanted me to ask you out? Because I totally want to do that. Yep. But I thought it would have been unfair to ask you before I told you-"

"That you're a vampire? Dude, I know."

Eddie blinks once. Then again. "Excusemewhat?"

Steve smiles at him and touches his hand. "Look. After what happened in Hawkins, I know the smell of blood. I knew it wasn't tomato juice. Also I've accompanied the kids to enough monster flicks to know."

"Oh." Eddie licks his lips and doesn't really know what to say. "Um. What...does that mean for us?"

Laughing, Steve grabs his other hand too. "Definitely two things. One - you can and should kiss me. Two - you can stop wearing that cape. I got your point."

"Oh okay. Cool. Will do. Both."

And since Eddie Munson is a vampire of his word, he does.

(Wayne is absolutely delighted that Eddie is dating, he watches sports with Steve and discusses the pros and cons of Steve becoming a paramedic. Scott helps Steve with some of the subjects he's struggling with. In return, Steve works with Robin to find a makeup brand that is fully sparkleproof, giving the vampires a chance to walk in the sunlight again. And sometimes, he helps them answer the questions that have been plaguing the Munson-Clarke-Henderson household for years...such as: what is TikTok?)

(oh and also. Turns out Steve really thought Eddie was wearing creepy contact lenses. That one aspect of vampyrism he found very cool)

[hotjaneaustenmenpoll]

WHO IS THE HOTTEST JANE AUSTEN MAN ? THE FINAL

Propaganda...

Captain Wentworth (1995):

Ciaran Hinds has that perfect ruggedness yet friendliness to his face that makes him the perfect charming Wentworth. And all of the longing that he manages to convey in his eyes is so hot.

Wentworth may be angry/resentful with Anne but in general he is charming and the best friend you could ever have. Ciaran gets the pleasant parts of his character and brings them out, while keeping a guarded coolness (protective camouflage) with Anne.

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I dunno if this counts as propaganda or not, but Ciaran Hinds has a face that looks like it was jackhammered out of a shale cliff.

If a line like 'I am half agony...half hope' comes out of a face like that you know that man has a soul for poetry.

I can listen no longer in silence. I must speak to you by such means as are within my reach. You pierce my soul. I am half agony, half hope. Tell me not that I am too late, that such precious feelings are gone for ever. I offer myself to you again with a heart even more your own than when you almost broke it, eight years and a half ago. Dare not say that man forgets sooner than woman, that his love has an earlier death. I have loved none but you. Unjust I may have been, weak and resentful I have been, but never inconstant. You alone have brought me to Bath. For you alone, I think and plan. Have you not seen this? Can you fail to have understood my wishes? I had not waited even these ten days, could I have read your feelings, as I think you must have penetrated mine. I can hardly write. I am every instant hearing something which overpowers me. You sink your voice, but I can distinguish the tones of that voice when they would be lost on others. Too good, too excellent creature! You do us justice, indeed. You do believe that there is true attachment and constancy among men. Believe it to be most fervent, most undeviating, in

F. W.

I must go, uncertain of my fate; but I shall return hither, or follow your party, as soon as possible. A word, a look, will be enough to decide whether I enter your father's house this evening or never.  

This is propaganda for the next round because I need my boy to be a finalist! But this letter is all the persuasion I need to know that he is a winner

Ciarán Hinds in this is a whole other level of "a good man" He makes Anne's decision at the end so much more perfect.

LOOK

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HOW

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HE

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YEARNS

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The yearning the yearning - JLM gives a great look but Captain Wentworth is the king of longing stares. He's trying sooo hard to hate her sooo hard to get over her - 8 years and he thinks he's ready to face her and move on but no he has to notice she's exhausted on the walk, that her nephew is being overwhelming, that she should be dancing and not just playing the piano for everyone else. And even though he's jealous later on when Mr Elliott gives her an "admiring look" in lime he's pleased for her because he knows she deserves to be admired and cherished even if he's angry that he wasn't able to be the one she let admire and cherish her. I just this man - he loves Anne so much and it's so so hot.

Propaganda for Captain Wentworth.

I've always loved Persuasion and so I was voting for him in his polls anyway, but I had never seen the 1995 adaptation. So because of this blog I decided to check it out.

Well. Now I'm obsessed. I came into this tournament fully expecting to vote Firth Darcy to victory. Ciaran Hinds suddenly showed up and sparta kicked him to curb. His every look, every gesture is laden with longing. He's so tender with Anne but then the barely restrained rage in his voice when he speaks to Lady Russell. He's rugged and manly yet tender and considerate.

I BURN, I PINE, I PERISH

If you're wondering why you should vote for Wentworth 95 in the @hotjaneaustenmenpoll, it's because he's got something hot for everyone.

Do you think it's hot when a man dresses up fancy? He looks very dapper in his uniform! Or do you find it more sexy when a man is more casual, a little mussed up, maybe even a little grimy? He does that perfectly too!

Do you find men hot when they're being tender and restrained? Or do you find men hot when they're losing control a bit, maybe getting a bit passionate with anger or jealousy?

Do you like a refined man of culture? Or a rugged outdoorsman?

A warm smile? Or something more broody?

Someone who's the life of the party, boisterous, laughing, charming? Or the strong silent type, serious, calm, mysterious?

Hinds's Wentworth does all of these sexy things brilliantly! You cannot lose with him, he's got it all!

II ranked Wentworth as the #1 Austen man in terms of fuckability, and I stand behind that when it comes to Wentworth 95 versus Knightley 09.

Is Wentworth 95 angry sometimes? Yeah. But that's hot, at least coming from Ciaran Hinds' ruggedly handsome face. Have you heard of makeup sex? Tell me Wentworth 95 and Anne don't have the most scorching hot angry makeup sex imaginable 🥵

And yet Wentworth 95 is also super tender! The slow, gentle, worshipful way he kisses Anne at the end?? So beautiful and hot. The longing way he looks at Anne in silence. The way he is so solicitous of Anne's comfort to put her on the carriage with his sister! You can just tell he's gonna take the time to worship his wife in bed.

And let's not forget that he writes the most romantic letter ever written! The depth of passion in this man, my god! 🔥💕🔥

This is not a who is the better man contest, or who is the more faithful to the book, or who would you most want to marry. This is a hotness contest, and Wentworth 95 is so fucking hot.

Mr Darcy (1995):

Colin Firth (1995) is book Darcy brought to life. He uses tiny gestures and looks to communicate with us and Elizabeth… his struggle is so subtle but so palpable. A beautiful asshole with a creamy nougat center. Just perfect.

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Those heart-eyes right up above☝️? Hot!

Passive-agressively drinking tea? Hot!

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The way he rushes over to see Elizabeth at Pemberley on those delicious long legs of his with that slutty wet curl hanging over his forehead? Hot!

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Fencing? Hot!

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The way he is so concerned about Elizabeth crying and takes her hand even though he shouldn't? Hot!

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This dimple-y smile of pure joy because he knows he's married to Elizabeth freaking Bennet? Hot!

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Colin Firth Darcy is simultaneously immaculately put together and entirely falling apart internally. The wet shirt scene is so iconic not (only) because ‘oooh almost-shirtless sexy man’, but because it’s a metaphor for how he’s absolutely falling apart!!! This is a private moment, when he doesn’t think anyone can see him. And then he bumps. into. Lizzie. At his house!! And the entire sequence that follows with him rushing out still doing his jacket up to catch her before he leaves. They are both on the back foot and it’s THAT moment of confusion that opens a more honest dialogue between them.

Without Firth in a lake you wouldn’t get Macfadyen in a downpour!

There's a reason why Colin Firth is forever known as Mr. Darcy above all other roles he's had and will have! Even ignoring the wet white shirt, which has become A Thing now, he is so hot with his curly hair and his little half smiles and his intense looks of longing and his legs that go on for milessss.

This cannot be real. My fellow Jane Austen people. Without Colin Firth’s Darcy we wouldn’t have 90% of modern JA content. He opened a door and there was no turning back for modern culture. There would be no MacFadyen standing half undressed in a field at dawn without Firth jumping into a lake first. There would be no hand flex if there hadn’t been Firth doing his best impression of a man undressing Elizabeth Bennet with his eyes and hating himself for liking it. There would be no Bridgerton without Bridget Jones. Let’s face it people. We wouldn’t be here having these arguments if Colin Firth had not been Mr Darcy.

Colin Firth understood Mr. Darcy in a way no other actor ever has. He is awkward as fuck in a way that comes across as snooty and judgmental on a first watch-through, then can be read as awkward and longing on a second time. His performance had such depth while looking extremely shallow at first glance. This man WAS Mr. Darcy. (I love 2005, as well, and I love Matthew McFayden, but he was awkward for awkward sake.) Colin Firth made Darcy's awkward look snooty and aloof.

THE socially awkward Darcy is the 1995 Darcy - look at him coming and sitting in awkward silence with Elizabeth pointedly asking her if she wants to live a long way from her family (to obvious relief) and then abruptly leaving - vote for him please 😭😭😭😭

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Colin Firth served so much as Darcy that when they did Bridget Jone's diary, they brought him back.... AS DARCY. The smoulder. The angst. The man is the quintessential Darcy.

“Firthing” is an actual term that is used now to describe someone yearning intensely. It is named after Colin Firth’s Mr Darcy performance.

Colin Firth all the way. He's known in our household as Owl Eyes because in every frame he's mooning over Elizabeth Bennet. Unsurpassable, unmatched, golden television (and some of the worst dancing you've ever seen).

Colin has beautiful, touchable curls.

Link

My high school English teacher was very into using movies to teach alongside literature, which was a great teaching tool. When we read Pride and Prejudice, he used both 2005 and 1995 for various scenes. What stands out to me all these years later was when it got to the part when Lizzy went to help Georgiana after Caroline dropped Mr. Wickham's name and Darcy gives Lizzy this look:

My teacher stopped the film and pointed at Darcy's face and said, "See that? That is THE look. If someone ever looks at you like that, you know they're in love." And what is hotter than that?

Also this teacher had two cats named Lizzy and Darcy. Not relevant to the poll but I wanted you all to know about them.

Colin Firth dazzles and amazes in the nuanced performance that just blows all other attempts away.

The best thing about the Colin Firth wet shirt scene is actually the scene that follows where him and Lizzie are both just dyinggg of embarrassment but Darcy pulls himself together refuses to lose his advantage and runs to get dressed and chase her down before she leaves - just the mix of cringe and hopefulness at seeing her again is so well done and so attractive!!! (this is just the bit where he's running after her but I love it all!)

[kiss-me-cill-me]

Follow Me Down

Pairing: Robert Fischer x Reader

Word Count: 5.3k

Summary: Dealing with Robert's advances feels like a full time job in itself. When he finally pushes you past your breaking point at a company party, you decide that it's time to teach him a lesson.

Warnings: Smut, hate sex, semi-public sex, mean reader, pushy/bratty Robert, kind of switch!Robert, S&M themes, oral (f receiving), face sitting, high heel kink, spit kink, choking, non-consensual creampie, name calling (including one use of "bitch"), workplace harassment, degradation, misogyny, mentions of drinking/alcohol, reader insults Robert by suggesting that he would spike her drink (but it does not actually happen)

A/N: Are New Year's Eve fics a thing? If not, they should be haha. I love New Year's Eve, so as a little early present, please enjoy this piece of absolute filth. Title was inspired by George Taylor's song Come Follow Me Down, which I listened to on repeat while writing the smut portion of this. Thank you for reading, and I'm wishing you all a great start to 2024!

***Please read the warnings before continuing. Minors DNI***

Robert Fischer was the kind of man who had everything handed to him in life, and it showed. He was petulant, unserious, and thoughtless. Or at least, mostly thoughtless; he did possess the very annoying ability to badger the living hell out of someone in order to get what he wanted. And tonight, as was so unfortunately often the case, the focus of his one-track mind was you.

He was trailing after you now, either oblivious to or willfully ignorant of the look of annoyance plastered over your face as you tried to lose him. He barely had to hurry to keep up.

“Don’t be shy asking for my help with closing that big merger if you need it,” he told you.

You grimaced. You knew how to do your job.

“Robert, let’s not talk about work while we’re off the clock,” you said shortly, trying to make your voice as sweet as possible so that he wouldn’t have an excuse to comment on your tone.

You were at the company’s New Year’s Eve party. Ostensibly, this was the last of (too many) excuses littered throughout the year for the big wig executives to drink expensive booze and make fools of themselves on the company dime. And, annoyingly, it was also yet another opportunity for Fischer to try and sleep with you. 

“Okay. Let me get you a drink then,” he offered.

You decided you were done being sweet. You stopped and turned on your heel to face him.

“I wouldn’t leave you alone with my drink for two seconds, much less accept one you’d gotten your grubby little mitts on,” you hissed.

Robert made no indication that he understood what you were insinuating. Instead, he rested a hand on your waist, tugging you just a bit closer to him.

“Then I’ll escort you to the bar,” he said. “And I’ll even keep my hands on you, so you’ll know that I haven’t touched your drink.”

He was disgusting. 

“Why don’t you escort yourself?” you shot back, shaking out of his grip.

You were abstaining from drinks tonight, wanting to keep your wits about you just in case Robert tried to get too handsy. Or, handsier than he usually was. This was a fairly frequent occurrence, and although you were used to it, it still pissed you off. Robert was nothing you couldn’t handle, but the arrogant rich boy attitude got old quick. It annoyed you that you couldn’t say anything without risking the job you had worked so hard for. Unlike him, you hadn’t been born into a world that put you automatically on a pedestal. On the contrary, it often felt like people were trying to kick you off the ledge.

Robert was walking behind you again, thankfully keeping his hands to himself even as he hovered at your heels, and you walked deeper into the party. All around you, drunken coworkers reveled and laughed. There was only about one hour left in the year, and by god the company was going to spend it drinking enough champagne to kill an elephant.

“Come on,” Robert called behind you, still trailing. “Don’t you know how to take a joke?”

You ignored him, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a response. As you wove your way through the crowd, one of the higher-ups signaled to you. 

You jumped at the opportunity, hoping that Robert would at least have the common decency to leave you be while you were talking to a man who was essentially your boss. But of course, rules and manners didn’t apply to Robert Fischer like they would to anyone else. As you talked with the executive about mergers and acquisitions, Robert stood directly behind you. Practically breathing down your neck. You had to bite your tongue when he placed a hand on the small of your back again. What the hell did he think he was doing?

After a few minutes, the higher-up - slightly intoxicated - excused himself and wandered off, leaving you alone again with the man who was quickly becoming the bane of your existence.

“Robert-” you started to bark.

“God, you’re sexy when you talk business,” Robert interrupted.

You were facing him again, his arm still wrapped around you possessively. You caught a whiff of bourbon on his breath. He certainly wasn’t drunk, but the alcohol had clearly loosened his tongue. Usually he wasn’t this forward. You frowned.

“And you’re an unprofessional prick.”

Your outburst almost seemed to shock you more than it did Robert. His expression never faltered, except to allow a small smirk to spread across his lips.

“Sweetheart, don’t flatter me like that,” he teased. “A pretty girl like you could give a guy like me ideas.”

He raised his eyebrows at you as he said “ideas,” lowering his voice a bit. You got the message.

“I’m sorry if I was unclear,” you said, trying not to speak through clenched teeth. “But the only idea I want to give you is to leave me the hell alone.”

Robert put his hands up, pretending to look wounded. Or maybe he was going for shocked. As if you hadn’t made it abundantly clear already just how uninterested you were. He took a step back, to your relief.

“Okay, I can see you need some time to cool off,” he relented. Finally, you were getting somewhere. “But can you really blame me for getting mixed signals?”

You had no idea what Robert was talking about, until he started pointing above him. Your eyes trailed up, and you saw for the first time a little sprig of mistletoe, hanging in the hallway. A leftover from the company’s Christmas decorations. Of all the places you could have been standing… When you looked back at Robert, your mouth was a thin line.

“What are you, twelve?” you asked. 

He just smiled. 

“Christmas is over, Robert,” you said coldly.

As you started to walk away, he called after you.

“Can’t blame a guy for trying!”

Fischer was right about one thing - you did need some time to cool off. Being around him made your skin crawl. It made you feel like you needed a shower and a guzzle of holy water, just to exorcize any lingering traces of him from your system. A gin and tonic would probably have at least some of the same effects. And you were craving one, but you reminded yourself that you needed to stay sharp. Robert had left you alone for now, but it was only a matter of time before he would be back. You settled for just the tonic.

Rubbing your head as you walked through the party, horribly bitter drink in hand, you wondered why you had even bothered to come. So much of what you did was for the sake of appearances. Anything to claw your way ahead. Though of course, even you had limits. Sleeping with Fischer would, ironically, probably end in a boon to your career. But you definitely weren’t about to let yourself sink to that level. 

You looked down at your gin-less tonic, twist of lime bobbing lazily in the bubbles. Why were you even drinking this? It certainly wasn’t for the taste. You dumped the rest of your drink in a potted plant, and set the empty glass down on a table.

This party was a total drag. But, you figured, at least you wouldn’t have to go far to find a little solitude. One of the benefits of working for an insanely wealthy company like Fischer Morrow was that even mid-level employees like you got extravagant offices. Your high heels clicked against the tile as you strode off, eager to leave the maddening din - and Robert Fischer - behind.

You reached your office door, and instantly knew that something was off. Behind the frosted windows, you could tell that the lights were on. The party was on the floor below yours; there should have been nobody up here, much less in your private office. Maybe it was just one of the cleaners, working late. Well, no problem. They would be easy enough to get rid of, and then you could regroup and prepare yourself for the remainder of a night full of fending off Robert’s advances. You pushed open the door.

Really, you should have seen this coming. Of course it wasn’t going to be this easy to get rid of him.

“Robert,” you sighed. You took in the sight of him, sitting in your swivel chair and looking very pleased with himself. “Do I really have to ask you to get out of my office?”

“Not if you don’t want me to,” he taunted, effortlessly throwing your own words back at you. He winked, and you narrowed your eyes.

You walked over to your desk, large and shiny with a stained walnut finish. It was an expensive piece of furniture, and one that Robert somehow managed to look right at home sitting behind. As if he owned the place. Which was closer to the truth than you particularly liked to think about. 

“Why do you enjoy doing this?” you asked, not expecting a real answer.

“I just like getting a rise out of you,” Robert said.

It sounded strangely honest. You leaned over your desk, staring down at him. Trying to size him up.

“You’re very mean when you want to be,” Robert continued, almost observationally.

You weren’t sure where he was going with this. Sure, you could be mean. It was part of the reason why you’d achieved the position you were in now; you didn’t advance in business by being a pushover.

Robert, you noticed, was currently staring down the front of your dress. You scrambled to stand up, and crossed your arms over your chest. The little pervert wasn’t even trying to hide it. You circled the desk, coming to rest on the side where Robert still sat, watching you calmly. You silently willed him to get out of your chair; to leave your office and give you twenty seconds of peace. He didn’t, of course, and so you took a seat on the desk, crossing your legs and tapping one foot in the air.

“So, what? Do you get off on me being mean to you or something?” you pressed.

Robert shrugged, neither confirming nor denying. For some reason, that infuriated you even more. You hated his smug face; that little smirk he was wearing right now that meant he was getting what he wanted. You had the sudden urge to slap him. Maybe that would teach him a lesson.

“And what about you?” Robert asked. “What do you get out of this?”

“Me?!” You were incredulous. “Christ. What could I possibly be getting out of putting up with you constantly bothering me?”

Robert shrugged again, and your desire to slap him grew.

“Maybe you get off on it too,” he guessed. “Being mean, that is.”

“You think I get off on doing this?” you scoffed. “Do you ever think about anything besides sex?”

“You’re the one who brought up getting off; not me.”

You were really going to lose it. You could barely see Fischer sitting in front of you now for all of the angry red that was swirling through your vision. He thought he could walk in here, sit at your desk, and then tell you you got off on being mean to him? He didn’t know how mean you could be.

“What’s your end goal with all this, Robert? You really think you’re gonna get to live out whatever twisted fantasy you’ve made me a part of in that sick little head of yours?”

“Maybe,” Robert said nonchalantly. You could feel him undressing you with his eyes.

“Yeah? What are you hoping to do to me?” you prodded. You didn’t care what you were saying anymore; you were way past the point of professionalism. “Probably tie me up and watch me try to fight you off, right?”

Robert looked up at you very calmly, holding your angry gaze as he answered you.

“I’d rather have you step on me with those heels,” he said.

You were taken aback.

“Excuse me?”

“I said: I want you to step on me with those slutty little stilettos you keep waving in my face,” he repeated.

You froze. One foot was braced against the drawers of your desk, and the other was poised in the air, hovering just in front of Robert’s knee as he sat in your chair.

“What’s the matter?” Robert asked. “I warned you you’d give a guy like me ideas, didn’t I?”

Part of you was in shock. This was not how you had expected this interaction to go. But another part of you - a corner of your mind that you didn’t even want to acknowledge - really was turned on by the idea of putting him in his place. You grinned.

“What makes you think I’d do that for you?” you hummed, mocking him.

Before he had a chance to respond, you lifted your foot and pressed the sharp point of your heel against the fleshy part of Robert’s shoulder. His expensive suit jacket started to crease. You pushed your heel in a little more, pushing him back just an inch.

Robert’s eyes started to wander, trying to sneak a look under your dress as you sat in front of him, your leg lifted up to press into his shoulder. 

“You’re a pig,” you told him, shifting your foot so that it was in the middle of his chest. 

The new angle made it a little harder for him to get a peek, with your legs more pressed together. Robert’s eyes drifted back to your face, a look of restrained amusement dancing across his own features. He was trying to play it cool, but you noticed the way his fingers dug into the chair’s leather armrests.

“Just another pretty boy in a suit,” you continued, inching the toe of your shoe up toward his collar. 

The point of your heel was right over his sternum, and Robert started to smile. He really was enjoying this, and the realization both repulsed and aroused you.

“Think you can take whatever you want. You need to be put in your place.”

You pushed back with your foot, making Robert’s chair roll a few inches so that you had space to stand up between him and the desk. You planted one foot on the floor, and the other directly over his crotch, pressing in with the dull toe of your shoe. The point of your heel rested on the chair in front of him, between his slightly parted legs. You weren’t trying to impale the poor man, but the devious look that Robert fixed on you as you towered over him almost made it look like he would have preferred if you did.

“Told you y’get off on being mean,” he teased.

You grabbed hold of his tie and pulled his face closer to yours as you looked down at him.

“Robert, if you think this is what a woman looks like when she gets off, I have some very bad news for you. Why don’t you show me what that pretty mouth is good for?”

You pushed away from him, climbing back up on the desk and spreading your legs. The tight black dress you wore rode up your thighs, and Robert instantly dropped to his knees in front of you. He hooked a finger into the crotch of your panties, using it to drag them to the side until you were on display for him.

“You can deny all you want,” he mocked, “but you wouldn’t be this wet if you really didn’t enjoy it.”

“Jesus. Stop talking,” you ordered.

You shoved his face between your legs, and his tongue eagerly came out to lick at you. You were wet - there really wasn’t any denying it - but you didn’t need him pointing out that fact as if he weren’t the one desperately lapping at your cunt. Robert was the pathetic one here; you were really just going along with things to teach him a lesson. If he wanted you to walk all over him, you would make sure he regretted ever crossing paths with you. And if you happened to get off while doing it - well,  you'd just chalk that down as some much-needed stress relief. Dealing with Robert was exhausting.

You hooked your legs over his arms, pinning him in place as he balanced himself against the desk. As much as you hated to admit it, he was good at this. Very good. His tongue was lavishing you; his blue eyes never breaking contact with yours as he ate you out. The way he was looking up at you felt dirty and yet dangerously addicting, all at the same time. Your hand tangled in his hair, pulling him even closer as your breath hissed through your teeth. Abruptly, you pulled him away.

“Get on the desk,” you commanded, a little out of breath.

Robert stood up, wiped his smug face, and started to climb up onto the desk.

“On your back.”

He laid down, swinging his feet up so that he was fully spread out across the hard surface. You reached up under your dress to remove your panties. Having him hold them to the side was only getting in the way.

You carefully got up on the desk with him, knees resting on either side of his face.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” you scoffed, half for your own benefit.

“Think of it this way,” Robert smirked beneath you. “Isn’t it gonna make you happy to wipe this smile off my face?”

“I thought I told you to shut up.”

You sat down, putting almost your full weight on his face. Robert reached up to grab hold of your thighs, supporting you, and you were actually grateful for it even though it gave him an opportunity to grope at your ass. Your legs were getting weaker every second, and you could feel yourself tipping over the edge.

Part of the thrill was from being in such a compromising position. Before, if someone had walked in, there was a chance that Robert could stand up and you would be able to smooth down your dress in time to avoid getting caught. But now… well, riding a man’s face as he was splayed out on the desk beneath you was a little harder to recover from, logistically.

You ground your hips down, so tantalizingly close to coating his face in your release. Robert seemed to sense your urgency, and dug his fingers into your flesh, practically begging for it. His tongue dragged roughly across your clit, sucking with just the right pressure.

Your mouth hung open as you came, at first frozen in a silent scream and then moaning, sinfully, as an orgasm rolled over you. You seemed to shake from your shoulders down into your knees, and Robert’s tongue lapped up all of your arousal. He pressed his lips to your clit one final time as you slid off of him. 

When your hips were straddling his, Robert sat up to hold you. His hands were hungry, grabbing at your waist as he tried to pull you closer and into a kiss.

“No kissing,” you choked out, putting a hand on his chest to stop him.

Robert didn't try to push past you, just paused and looked up at you with light, teasing eyes.

“Come on, sweetheart. It's New Year's Eve. You're not gonna give me a kiss at midnight?” 

You swallowed, not trusting your shaky voice to respond without giving him more fuel to taunt you with. He didn't need it.

“Even after you already let me wrap my lips around your pretty cunt?” 

Your hand on his chest pressed down, pushing him back onto the hard wood. Robert smiled again, proud of himself for getting to you. He really did know how to wind you up.

“You’re such a typical rich boy,” you spat. “So used to getting anything you ask for.”

“Usually I don’t even have to ask,” Robert corrected.

“Right. Other women just throw themselves at you?” You felt your hatred flare.

He gave you that knowing look again, but kept his smirking mouth shut. You noticed the way your arousal still glistened against his lips. The whole lower half of his face, actually, was drenched, and the sight of it sent a pang of renewed desire all through you.

Suddenly, Robert’s grip tightened at your waist. He bunched up the fabric of your dress, exposing you a little more, and forced you down onto his leg. 

“Use me to get yourself off.”

Already impatient, his hands had started to pull at your hips, making you rock back and forth. The cloth of his suit pants brushed roughly against your exposed clit, still sensitive from his earlier treatment. But still, it felt good. Too good.

“Robert-”

You had opened your mouth to protest, but he cut you off.

“Mm, say my name, baby.”

He was so full of himself. Something snapped in you, and your hand flew up to his neck. As your grip tightened, Robert only threw his head back.

“Honestly, do you ever shut up?” you spat.

Despite yourself, your hips started to stutter against him, desperate to rub harder as the pressure started to build in you again. For whatever reason, you found yourself going along with Robert’s demands once more. Your hand on his neck squeezed.

“You really do get everything you want,” you hissed, teeth clenching against the ache that was rapidly growing between your legs.

“Not true,” Robert choked out beneath you. His voice was straining from your grip, but you could still hear the hint of satisfaction. “I haven’t gotten to stick it in you yet.”

Your walls clenched around nothing, and you hated how his words could affect you. You angrily took it out on him, pressing the hand on his neck down even harder. Robert hissed out through his teeth, then dissolved into a rough cry of pleasure. 

“Fuck," you gasped.

Your grip loosened, suddenly, as a wave of ecstasy came crashing over you for the second time. It was unexpected and fast, taking you by such surprise that you fell forward on the desk a little, caging Robert’s face with your arms. Your stomach churned with embarrassment as the feeling faded, and you realized that just the sound of his voice had been enough to push you over the edge.

You looked down, and saw Robert’s eyes full of mirth. His face was flushed, blood rushing back now that your hand was off him. A few strands of hair stood out of place against his forehead. Honestly, he was a mess; clothes all wrinkled and normally-neat red tie knocked askew. You could feel yourself dripping. His very expensive suit pants were probably ruined. Although, that was really his problem.

“Tell me again how you don’t get off on being mean?” Robert rasped below you.

You were panting, and clearly in no position to answer him. But even if you had been able to speak, you certainly weren’t about to tell him that it had been his animalistic moan that really made you come. Robert started to sit up a little, keeping one arm around your waist.

“You hate me so much.” Robert’s voice was still slightly hoarse, but there was that tone of amusement, as usual. 

“Poor little rich boy.”

It was all you could think to say, still trying to recover from two orgasms back to back. Robert gave you a look that was almost pitying.

“When are you gonna admit that you’re just jealous?” Robert purred.

You gave him a look of disgust, hoping your scowl would communicate everything that you couldn’t verbalize. Your head was still reeling, dizzy from the rush.

“You think you’re better than everyone else just because you have to scramble to get ahead? Please. You wish you had it as easy as me.” Robert’s hands came up to grasp at your wrists, holding you in place as he brought his lips close to yours. “But lucky for me, you’re not above sleeping your way to the top.”

Is that really what he thought this was? No. That wasn’t the reason for this. Inch by inch, Robert was bringing his lips closer to you. This bastard, thinking he understood you. Infuriated, you did the only thing you could think to do, and spit on him.

He stopped, but didn’t look particularly surprised. The trail of spit started to drip down his face, mixing on his cheek with the leftover sheen of your arousal. Calmly, Robert brought a hand up to his face and wiped off the efforts of your rebellion.

“I knew there was a reason I liked you, sweetheart.”

In the next instant, Robert’s hands were at his belt, nimble fingers working the buckle. You noticed for the first time how painfully stretched his pants were. He had to be in agony. But, you thought bitterly, that was probably exactly how he wanted it.

“Here - why don’t you spit on my cock?” he goaded, pulling himself out of his briefs.

Your eyes blew wide at the sight of him. That certainly explained the amount of confidence he had. You struggled to shoot back a response.

“In your dreams,” you muttered.

“Don’t be like that,” Robert chided, pouting a little bit.

As much as he liked to act, you could tell that he wasn’t really hurt. Someone as arrogant as Robert Fischer could never be truly bothered by anything. This was merely an inconvenience. He pinched your cheeks between his rough fingers, forcing you to look down at his dick with your mouth open. A long, wet rope of saliva fell from your lips.

“There, was that so hard?”

Robert’s pinching hand left your face as he brought it down to rub at his length, hastily working your spit over himself.

“This is for your benefit anyway,” he winked. “Don’t want it to hurt you too much.”

You watched, almost mesmerized, as he pumped himself a few more times. Satisfied, he stood up, taking you with him. Standing in your heels, you were almost as tall as him, and he looked directly into your eyes.

“Now, do you want me to fuck you over the desk, or up against the wall?”

You almost couldn’t believe his audacity. You glared at him, a heavy, electrical silence hanging between you.

“Tick-tock, sweetheart.”

“Go to hell, Robert,” you answered. 

“Well, then I guess we’re doing what I want.” He smiled. “How ironic.”

He lifted you up in one swift motion, and then your back was against the wall. The head of his cock was pressing into you, and the stretch was almost painful.

“So fuckin’ tight,” he hissed. “Just what I would expect from a stuck-up little bitch.”

His words stung, but not as much as the snap of his hips as he thrust into you, forcing a little whine out of your lips. You grit your teeth, trying to muffle your reaction.

“You squeeze me so good when you’re angry,” Robert laughed. “Fuck.”

His hands were digging into you, holding you up as he pulled out and then pressed greedily back in. Your head pushed back against the wall, overwhelmed by his size. 

“What’s wrong, baby? Too much for you?” he teased.

“You- wish-”

Your words cut off as Robert fucked sharply into you again, then paused. You wrapped your legs tighter around him, pulling his hips against you as you tried to hold yourself up. It only made him push deeper. 

“Fuck, Robert-!”

You cried out, interrupting yourself again, and felt his lips brush against your neck.

“I didn’t even move that time, baby,” he smirked. 

You couldn’t stand to see him so smug. Somewhere deep inside yourself, you found strength.

“W-what are you waiting for, then? Get to work, pretty boy.”

Robert grinned as he thrust into you, even more powerfully than before. You wanted to whimper, but bit your tongue. You wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.

“You really are something else,” Robert chuckled.

His pace had started to speed up, and now he was pumping in and out of you relentlessly, each thrust pushing you back against the wall. Your body had finally adjusted to his girth, and you were almost starting to enjoy the stretch. Not to mention the way that his head hit a certain spot inside of you, nearly making you fall apart every time he brushed against it.

You were finding it harder and harder to suppress your moans, and every now and then one would slip out of your tightly-pressed lips. Robert seemed to speed up every time he heard you whimper.

“Fuck!” you swore, as he hit a particularly deep spot.

“You take my cock so well,” he grunted. Even trying to keep his cool, it was clear that he was only seconds away from release. “Now let’s see how you take my cum.”

“Not… not inside,” you panted.

“Don’t- fucking- tell me what to do.”

“Don't fucking come in me!”

Pressed against the wall, your options for retaliation were limited. Your legs could do nothing but wrap around him; his hands stopping you from putting your feet on the floor. Your own hands were occupied gripping at the lapels of his suit, hanging on for dear life as he split you open. Really, the only available part of you was your mouth.

Your lips bruised hard against his, taking his bottom lip between your teeth and biting hard enough that you hoped it hurt. Robert let out a muffled growl against you, and you sank your teeth in more.

Somewhere far away, a clock chimed and the party below you surged drunkenly. Robert thrust his hips into you one last time, and then you felt him painting your walls; cum leaking out of you as he held you, still suspended in the air. As the buzzing in your head started to fade, you realized he was smiling against your lips.

You jaw relaxed just enough for Robert to pull himself away. His lip was bruised; angry red from where your teeth had scraped him. He was even more disheveled than he had been, and, somehow, even more satisfied with himself.

“Ended up giving me that kiss anyway,” he rasped, voice still heavy from exertion and lust. “And right at midnight, too.”

You felt your hatred surge again, weakly. You were exhausted; barely able to keep yourself upright when Robert finally set you on your feet. He stepped away, leaving you to tug down your dress and try to make yourself presentable. A very difficult task, considering you still had fresh cum leaking out of you. Your eyes quickly scanned the floor for your panties. You would not stoop to searching on your hands and knees for them. Not until Robert left your office, at least.

Robert finished zipping his pants and replacing his belt, shiny silver buckle clicking under his fingers. He tugged at his suit, barely making a dent in the wrinkles, and smoothed a hand over his hair.

“Well, I would say ‘same time next week,’ but I think it would be easier to pencil you in at lunch,” Robert joked. “Maybe we can finally have that drink before I take you back to my office. You’ll have a really nice view of the city while I fuck you against the window.”

You really couldn’t believe the nerve. Although, by now, it should have been easy to expect no less from Robert. You walked right up to him and planted a finger in the center of his chest.

“If you think I’m ever having sex with you again, you’re twice as delusional as I thought you were,” you huffed. 

Robert took one more long look at you, and shrugged.

“Can’t blame a guy for trying.”

[the-kr8tor]

Hello!!! I have simple request if you don’t mind how about drunk Hobie with y/n…I wanna see how you would write their dynamic cause I love your writing <3

Thank you for requesting, lovely! 💛

Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader

Tags: use of Y/N sparingly, no specific physical description of the reader, drinking, cw vomit, FLUFF

ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ

You wake up groggily to the telephone ringing loudly inside your shared bedroom. With one eye open, you blindly reach for the receiver, hand bumping all over the mess that is your bedside table. Bringing the phone to your ear, face squished on the pillow, sleep still clinging to your lashes.

“Hello?” Your voice cracks.

“Y/N? It's Ned” you wake up in a flash, mind already flashing to Hobie or his friends having some sort of emergency during their weekly get together. Is there a fire? Did someone get alcohol poisoning? Is he okay?

“Come get your man. He's gonna get kicked out with how loud the fucker is right now. The owner’s staring daggers at him”

Sure enough, there's a loud booming laughter in the background and what sounds to be glass shattering. Ned's swirling his words together but sober enough to put together a cohesive sentence. But definitely not drunk enough to handle his friends' shenanigans.

“Oh shit! Please hurry, he's telling everyone that he's Spider-Man, what a weirdo.” there's a rustling sound then the phone falls, banging on the wall briefly. There's fast footsteps and a muffled, “Hobie! Christ, that's your third fucking glass!”

There's roaring laughter, and an unmistakable voice. “Who you callin’? The coppers? You're no fun anymore, Neddy”

The dial tone ends and you're already putting on your trainers, taking your keys, wallet and coat. You don't even bother changing out of your pajamas, they look presentable enough, right?

The train ride was awkward. You in your pajamas, hair disheveled, and mismatched socks. Good thing there weren't a lot of commuters this late or the staring would actually get to you. There was an awkward silence when you stepped inside, but with you staring right back at them with your sleep deprived eyes, they looked away immediately.

You practically ran to the white horse pub, the party was in full swing, people with sloshing pints in hand and men drunkenly trying to walk straight. Hugging your coat closer, you tie them closed, scanning the pub for the familiar figure.

Spotting Hobie halfway up the table with Ned trying to drag him off, his laughs would make you giggle if not for him being so inebriated, chugging an entire pint while his other friends cheer him on, banging on tables and guffawing over the already loud pub. A friend you've recognized before joins him on the table, finishing his own pint. Hobie eggs him on with him tipping his friend's pint closer to the man's lips, while chanting: you can do it, mate!

The wood wobbles and you quickly make your way towards him. Ned sighs in relief, you smile apologetically before he changes course for the other friend on the table, almost tackling him off it.

You hold onto his leather jacket in an attempt to balance him. He usually has great balance but you don't completely trust his coordination.

“Hobie!” You yell through the loud chatter of the pub. The owner watches on in your peripheral, “Sorry, Joe! I'll get him home!”

“You better! Your boy's a menace, he's been inciting everyone on his little drinking game”

“Isn't that good? People are buying more booze?”

“Don't push it, love. That's the only reason why I'm not gonna make him pay for the broken glasses”

You wince, “sorry about those” He grunts, waving off.

Tugging at his jacket, you call his name again. Hobie finally looks down, eyes flicking from your hands to your face. You'd expect him to greet you with a smile or even drop down and hug you, instead, he swats your hands away from him, his eyebrows knitted together in annoyance.

You blink in surprise, bewildered at his actions. “Hey! Hobie!”

“What?” he folds his knees to level with you, his eyes blinking a little too quickly, head tilted, hands on his knees for extra balance.

“What do you mean ‘what’? I'm here to take you home. You're too drunk” you hold his hand, tugging him down on the table.

“And you're too bloody handsy” he flings your hand away. “I'm–” he blinks slowly, trying to get his bearings. “I'm have a girl back home, yeah? Don't” Hobie pokes your forehead.

You get cross eyed, a minute ago you'd thought he was just a little too drunk, the kind of drunk where you're wobbly on your feet, now you know he definitely can't see straight. You decide to play along, just so you can tease him in the morning.

“Oh” you bring your hands on your chest in a mock surprise. “Didn't know that, so sorry”

“No harm, but she–she would…could throw hands if she saw you grope me like that”

Grope? “I wasn't– you know what, tell me more about her. She sounds nice”

Hobie beams at you, a resemblance of what he would usually look like once he sees you in a crowded room. He sits on the table like you just asked a child what his favourite dinosaur is.

“She– she's sooo good to me, y’know�� you nod, biting your lip to stop a giddy laugh from escaping. “I told her that I was Spiderman and y’know what she did?!” He excitedly yells, good thing no one here actually believes his drunk ramblings or else the entire pub would know that they're currently drinking with spiderman himself.

“No, what did she do?” you smile, eyes twinkling under the dim lights of the pub.

“She said she loves me! And and” he gestures excitedly. “Supports me! Isn't that fuckin' amazing?!” Hobie sighs longingly. “I miss her, I wish she was here. She'd probably bonk me on the head with how much I've drunk though.” He trails off, his eyes glassy. “I should go home”

“Yeah, you should” you slowly inch closer to him. “Hey, babe?”

“Yes, lovie?” Hobie does a double take, his eyes wide as dinner plates. “Lovie!” He tackles you in for a hug. His face snuggling closer to your neck. You rub his back, giggling.

Now you're the one struggling to balance. “I miss you too” you kiss his temple. “Let's go home before you let out anymore of your secrets”

You would have struggled more if you brought him to the tube, luckily enough, you found a cab within five minutes of waiting (and wrangling) with Hobie.

After a round of goodbyes from his equally drunk friends, you finally got him inside the taxi. The driver clicks his tongue at another drunk passenger.

“He better not get sick all over my seats” the driver says gruffly.

“He won't, don't worry” you say with a fake smile.

“I think ‘m gonna be sick.” Hobie opens the car window, letting the cool air in.

“Please don't” you whisper to him, patting his back affectionately whilst you smile at the glaring driver so he doesn't kick you out.

After a car ride that seemed endless and one throw up outside the flat, you're both finally home. Getting him up the stairs was more of a struggle, he wobbled on his feet, almost tumbling off the staircase, if not for you clinging to him he would most definitely fall. Once inside the bedroom, he groans, leaning his entire body on you. Arms enclosed around your shoulders, head lolling to the side.

Hobie drops like a sack of potatoes on the mattress, bringing you down with him. You land on top as he traps you in his embrace.

“You're so good to me” he murmurs against the crown of your head.

“Mm-hmm, so I've been told” you cuddle closer, not minding the smell of alcohol.

“Because it's true” Hobie places a sticky kiss on your head then folding his neck just to reach your temple.

“You're gonna regret this in the morning” you help him in attacking your face by leaning over him, your elbows on the side of his head, fingers scratching his scalp. His hands skim over to your waist, holding you securely.

“I'll never” kiss “ever” kiss “regret” kiss “snogging you”

You laugh from the belly with every peck he leaves on your skin. “I know that, I’m talking about you drinking too much”

Hobie pauses, eyes narrowed from tiredness, lips still pursed together. “Ah that, sorry” he apologizes for his future self even though he would most definitely say it in the morning when you hand him some meds and lots of fluids.

“We'll talk about it once you're sober and without a banging headache. Rest, I'll take care of you” kissing his nose, you leave his side to grab fresh clothes for him to change into.

Before you completely leave, Hobie takes your hand, squeezing it.

“Love you, thank you” You let him bring your knuckles up to his lips, he sighs.

“Love you too, I think you're about to have the worst morning tomorrow” you chuckle, leaning closer to his touch like a planet orbiting its sun.

“With you, it won't be”

“You get cheesy when you're drunk” kissing the tip of his nose, you leave again, turning away, earning a grunt of disapproval from Hobie.

“I hate to see you go but I love watching you leave!” he says with gusto.

You should've brought a video camera with you when you were in the pub.

[thebunnednun]

LOYALTY [Chapter 2]

Katsuki Bakugou x Sugar Baby! Reader

Summary: Fuck a breakup, you ever have your fiance and partner of 8 years dump you during his promotion party in front of your bosses and the whole office with the girl he told you, “Don’t worry about,” on his arm?

The man you moved continents to support and move in with while you worked from home and helped promote his hero career because you thought he loved you and he called it an investment in your future together while you just did it out of love?

Welp, now he’s kicked you out in a strange land and you’ve gotta make it on your own. When you can't get a new job or apartment and tuition is almost due: you’ve got two options: Strip it or lose.

And I guess the angry blond that keeps coming back to your club wants to help you too.

I've been holding off on releasing more chapters because chapter 1 didn't do so well. But this is taking off on ao3 so I'm giving it another chance.

Chapter 1 is found here The poster for it contains hints for the next chapters.

Chapter Song is: Cyber sex by Doja Cat

------------------------Chapter 2: Behind the Glass-----------------------

The neon lights of the club flickered, casting a vibrant glow that bounced off the walls and mirrors. The bass of the music pulsed through the floor, a rhythmic thrum that set the tempo for the night. You adjusted your mask and wig in the mirror, ensuring that your identity remained concealed. The anonymity was a small comfort in a job that offered little else.

Marshmallow peeked into your side of the room, her face beaming with encouragement. “You’re going to do great tonight,” she said, her voice warm and reassuring. Her own outfit—a soft, lavender bodysuit with delicate lace trim—made her look like a whimsical dream. “Just remember, they’re here for the show. Give them something to remember.”

You nodded, trying to shake off the nervous energy that bubbled beneath your skin. You had been working behind the glass for a few weeks now, learning the nuances of the routine, mastering the pole, and getting accustomed to the constant surveillance of the security cameras. It was a strange existence, dancing in isolation while the world outside remained a mystery.

The glass panel separated you from the rest of the room, a barrier that allowed you to perform without being seen. On the other side, the room was filled with the occasional murmur of voices and the clinking of glasses. You focused on the task at hand, pulling yourself into a graceful routine that combined elegance with just a hint of spice.

As you began your dance, the rhythm of the music seemed to blend with the beat of your heart. The movements flowed naturally, your body moving in perfect harmony with the rhythm. Your mind wandered to the surprises of the club—especially the frequent visits from pro heroes. It was an odd revelation, but not entirely unexpected. In a place like this, discretion was paramount, and the allure of anonymity must have been appealing even to those in the spotlight.

Halfway through your routine, you heard a yawn from the other side of the glass. The sound cut through the music, startling you momentarily. You couldn’t help but smile at the familiarity of the gesture. It was Marshmallow, likely on her break.

“Are you really that bored?” you called out, your voice muffled by the glass.

The response came with a chuckle. “Not bored, just waiting for you to finish up. Got a special client tonight—one of those ‘high roller’ types. They usually want something a bit… more unique.”

You finished the last of your routine, striking a final pose before retreating to the changing area. Marshmallow was already waiting for you, her eyes glinting with a mix of mischief and sympathy.

“Special client, huh?” you asked, pulling off your mask and adjusting your wig.

“Yep,” she replied, leaning casually against the wall. “Sometimes it’s just a big spender, sometimes it’s someone looking for a bit of extra fun. Just do your best and keep it professional. And if they try anything… well, you know who to call.”

You nodded, feeling a shiver of anticipation mixed with anxiety. As you prepared for the special client, Marshmallow’s reassuring presence was a comfort. You had grown to trust her in the short time you had known her. She had become a mentor of sorts, guiding you through the intricacies of this world.

When the time came, you stepped into the room where the special client awaited. The setup was familiar—a dimly lit space with a plush sofa positioned in the back. The client’s silhouette was obscured by the shadows, and you could make out little beyond the outline of a large figure.

You began your routine, pouring all of your new skills and emotion into the performance. The glass barrier between you and the client created a sense of separation, allowing you to maintain your composure while still delivering an intimate experience. You did your best to remember everything the girls taught you earlier and tried to channel your own sexiness into the dance. 

The minutes seemed to blend together, punctuated by the occasional murmur from the client. As you finished your routine and prepared to leave, you felt a strange mix of relief and disappointment. The job was done, and you had managed to maintain your anonymity once again.

Back in the dressing room, Marshmallow was waiting with a smile. “How’d it go?” she asked, her voice filled with genuine curiosity.

“Not too bad,” you replied, trying to sound casual. “He left a good tip too.”

She gave you a reassuring pat on the back. “Good to hear. Now, let’s hit the gym. We’ve got to keep those moves sharp.”

After your shifts, you and Micheal, or Marshmallow as she was known in the club, headed toward the gym after another grueling night, she glanced over at you with a thoughtful expression. The treadmill’s rhythmic thud matched your steady pace, and you could see her reflection in the gym’s large mirrors.

“You know,” Micheal said, her voice breaking through the thump of the treadmill, “there’s other ways to make money online. Not just the stuff you’re doing now.”

You looked over at her, curiosity piqued. Micheal was a striking woman, her skin a rich, deep brown that glowed under the gym’s fluorescent lights. Her hair was styled in a sleek, ponytail that framed her face perfectly. She wore a workout outfit that accentuated her strong physique, but it was her eyes—full of knowledge and warmth—that drew you in.

“I’m already working online during the day,” you replied, trying to keep your voice casual.

Micheal chuckled and shook her head, pulling out her phone. “That’s cute. But there’s more out there, you know. Look.” She turned the screen towards you, revealing a list of adult apps and websites. Your cheeks flushed as you glanced away, feeling a bit embarrassed.

“Don’t be a prude,” Micheal teased, her smile playful. “You don’t even have to show your face if you don’t want to.”

You considered her suggestion, weighing it against your pressing financial needs. The tuition and apartment costs were mounting, and every bit of extra income would help. “I’ll think about it,” you said, focusing on your workout to distract yourself.

When you returned home, exhaustion hit you like a ton of bricks. You slumped into your chair and sifted through a stack of rejection letters, each one a reminder of how tough the job market was. After scheduling more interviews, you allowed yourself a short nap, hoping it would recharge you.

The nap, however, turned into a nightmare. You dreamt of your ex, his voice insistent, pressuring you to move to Japan with him. His words echoed in your mind, manipulating and demanding, until you woke up drenched in sweat and gasping for breath. The fear and anxiety from the dream clung to you, adding to your already fraught emotions.

You sat up, wiping your face with a shaky hand, and remembered Micheal’s advice. You fumbled for your phone and shot her a text, asking about the safest website where you wouldn’t have to get nude.

Micheal’s reply came swiftly. She sent you a link to “Secret Admirer,” an app where the user is in control. “It’s a sugar baby app, but the baby calls the shots. You can add a shopping list link and build a profile with pics and videos. Within a few hours, you should start getting messages.”

You stared at the link, your mind racing with possibilities. Micheal’s explanation gave you a small glimmer of hope. “Thanks <33,” you texted back, gratitude mingling with apprehension.

‘Fuck it I’m doing this.’

That evening, you set up your account on “Secret Admirer.” With the help of makeup, filters, and another wig, you created a completely new persona. You named her “Princess Diamond” the antithesis of your real self. Where you were reserved and introspective, Princess was a brash, demanding spoiled brat with an insatiable appetite for luxury. 

You looked at the final result on your screen, feeling a mix of satisfaction and discomfort. This new identity was a way to protect yourself, to shield your true self from the harshness of your circumstances. You hoped it would work, that it would provide the financial cushion you needed to get back on your feet.

At least you hoped it would. 

The basement storage room was transformed into your temporary haven. It wasn’t much—just a simple space with concrete walls and a basic light fixture—but you were determined to make it livable. You assembled your old bed frame and draped plain white sheets over it, creating a semblance of comfort. Around the room, you hung colorful banners and posters, adding splashes of personality to the otherwise drab space. The long changing divider you set up did its best to conceal the boxes of your other belongings, creating an illusion of privacy.

Satisfied with your efforts, you propped your phone against a stack of boxes and dialed Micheal for her input. The call connected quickly, and Micheal’s familiar face appeared on the screen. 

“Hey, what’s up?” she greeted, her voice carrying a tone of casual curiosity. 

“I’m about to do a show,” you said, trying to sound upbeat despite the gnawing anxiety in your stomach. You flipped the camera to give her a view of your makeshift setup.

Micheal’s eyes darted around the room as she took in the scene. Her expression shifted from impressed to contemplative. “Nice work on the quick thinking,” she said with a smile. “Crafty, but you do know it’s going to need to be more hyper-feminine if you’re going to really sell this, right?”

You sighed, looking around at the modest decor. The banners and posters were a good start, but the room still felt incomplete. The bed frame was plain, and the sheets were ordinary. The divider was practical but hardly glamorous. “Just what I was thinking, any ideas?” you said, feeling a bit tired.

Micheal nodded, her eyes narrowing slightly as she thought. “Hmmm, I have an idea. Just keep taking pics and videos of yourself for now. I’ll be in touch with more details.”

She blew a few playful kisses into the camera before ending the call, leaving you alone with your thoughts. You turned your attention back to your profile, updating it with the new photos and videos you’d taken. Despite the fatigue and frustration, a small spark of excitement flickered within you. There were a few new messages waiting, and the prospect of new connections invigorated you.

As you were thinking of settling in for the evening, your phone buzzed with a new text from Micheal. “Join my live,” it read. Your confusion was soon overshadowed by curiosity as you prepared to join her stream.

You set your phone up on a stand and waited for the connection. Micheal appeared on screen, her usual vibrant self. Only she didn't have a top on. The stream ran smoothly, with Micheal interacting with her audience and discussing various topics with you. Everything seemed normal until Micheal suddenly shooed you away from the screen, her demeanor shifting to something more serious.

“Alright, now listen,” she instructed, her voice taking on a commanding tone. “I want you to turn on your music and point the camera towards the divider. Put on a show for me.”

Realization dawned on you. Micheal was supposed to be doing a squirt show right now, and it was up to you to make it engaging. You took a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves. You started one of your more seductive routines, moving behind the divider. The muted, private space was your sanctuary, and you poured your energy into the performance, swaying and winding with practiced ease. 

It was ironically a little easier to strip down to your panties in this storage unit than in the club. As you danced, you heard the constant ding of notifications from your phone. The influx of messages and tips was almost overwhelming, and the steady hum of your phone’s vibrations grew louder. It wasn’t long before the phone started to overheat and beep as the screen became uncomfortably warm. You scrambled to throw on your jeans and sweater before you placed the phone in front of a fan, trying to cool it down before it shut off entirely.

The stream ended abruptly as the phone’s temperature soared, and you were kicked out of the live session. Your heart raced as you checked your account, eyes widening in disbelief at the amount of money that had accumulated. The funds were substantial, far more than you had anticipated.

That wasn’t what shocked you though. 

Alongside the influx of money, there was a transfer from Micheal with a note that read, “Buy yourself some pretty things, xxxooo~” Her generosity was both a relief and a source of renewed hope. You marveled at the support Micheal had provided, feeling a deep sense of gratitude and appreciation.

“I love that woman!”

With your phone finally cooled down, you took a moment to reflect on the evening’s events. The unexpected success of your performance was a beacon of hope in an otherwise tumultuous time. Micheal’s kindness and the financial cushion she had provided were a lifeline, giving you the breathing room you needed to continue rebuilding your life.

You closed your eyes, feeling a cautious optimism about the future. The shit show was far from over, but with support from Micheal, you felt a bit more secure. The stream left you feeling a mix of exhaustion and exhilaration. It was way easier than working at the club. 

After the whirlwind of emotions, you found yourself staring at your phone, hands trembling as you recorded a voice message for Micheal. You knew she'd probably be in the shower right now to clean off from her "performance". Your voice wavered as you spoke, a mix of disbelief and gratitude evident in your tone.

“Hey Micheal, I— I don’t even know how to thank you. How did you do this? Why? I’m still in shock!” 

You sent the message and waited, your heart pounding in anticipation. A few moments later, Micheal’s reply came through, her voice warm and reassuring.

“Hey there, calm down. I was hyping up your profile during my show. My clients were really interested, and it got you a solid fanbase right off the bat. You’ve got a lot of potential, and they’re excited to meet you. Just make sure to keep everything separate from your real life. Buy things that fit your online persona so you don’t get too attached.”

Her advice was practical and wise, but it only fueled the mix of relief and anxiety you felt. “Okay,” you replied, taking a deep breath. “I’ll get on it. Thanks so much for everything.” You blew her some kisses that you caught before you both hung up and immediately jumped onto Pinterest, scrolling through endless pages of Y2K fashion and room decor ideas.

Your room, now to be decorated in pastel pinks and nostalgic patterns, needed a bit more polish to fit the vibe. You envisioned adding bold prints, glittering accents, and maybe a few playful neon signs to complete the look. With a clear plan in mind, you set about buying new items for your space, making sure to keep the majority of the money aside for your tuition and a new apartment.

Okay, maybe you were looking at that stuff because your ex never let you decorate the apartment how you wanted. 

Just before bed, you decided to go live, just one more time.

As you started the stream, you were pleasantly surprised to see a handful of subscribers already in the comment section. The messages began to flood in:

StarGazer88 : Wow, you look stunning! The setup is amazing!

RetroFan23 : Your room is so cute! Love the decor!

FrightenFae : You’re absolutely beautiful! Can’t wait to see more!

You grinned at the screen, feeling a rush of excitement. Channeling the confidence Micheal had coached you on, you began to speak with a playful, almost teasing tone. “Hey everyone! Thanks for joining me tonight. I’m thinking of doing a Q&A show. What do you guys think?”

The chat erupted with enthusiasm, a chorus of “Yes!” and “Definitely!” filling the comments. Some viewers also requested a room tour, and you decided to make a playful challenge out of it.

“Well, if someone tips $500, I’ll do it,” you said with a wink and a smile, your voice dripping with sweet, sultry charm.

To your astonishment, the screen quickly filled with notifications of tips, and within moments, a user named Spiceman420 had tipped the entire $500.

“Hey, Spiceman420, thank you so much!” you said, beaming at the camera. Your genuine smile lit up the screen, and the viewers went wild with excitement.

As the tips continued to roll in, you tried to keep your composure, but your phone was starting to overheat again. “Guys, please slow down! My phone can’t handle this!” you pleaded, trying to keep your voice light and engaging.

Determined to keep your promise, you stood up and gave the camera a slow, dramatic pan around the room. “Here’s the room tour,” you said with a laugh, showing off the wall decorations and your modest setup.

The comments exploded with praise:

StarGazer88 : The room looks fantastic! Love the vibe!

YourMom69 : It's so cute! You’ve done a great job!

Spiceman420 : Looks pretty barren, Princess.

The last comment caught your eye. You hesitated, then decided to address it directly. “Oh, I actually just moved in and this place was bigger than I expected,” you fibbed with a smile, trying to keep the tone light and engaging.

More questions and compliments came in, many of them asking where you were from and remarking on how sweet you seemed despite your self proclaimed bratty persona. “We’ll see about that,” you joked, winking at the camera. “Thank you all so much for the support! I’m so grateful.”

You yawned prettily behind your hand, then blew a kiss to the camera. “Thanks for joining me tonight. I’m going to call it in. See you all soon!” 

After ending the stream, you took a refreshing shower to wash off the sweat and exhaustion. As you checked your phone, you saw a notification of a $5,000 check from Spiceman420, accompanied by a personal message: 

“For your new apartment, Princess.”

You stared at the screen, feeling a mix of disbelief and gratitude. The generous gesture was overwhelming, and you found yourself on the verge of tears once more. You quickly sent a photo of your hands forming a heart symbol, adding a simple “Thank you so much” in your message.

The read receipt confirmed that Spiceman420 had seen your reply, but there was no immediate response. You sighed, feeling a bit of relief. The money would go a long way in securing your new place and starting fresh.

With a hopeful heart, you settled into your new routine, feeling a bit more secure in your journey forward. The night had been a whirlwind, but the unexpected support and the small victories kept you moving forward.

Bakugou sat slumped in a velvet armchair, his fingers scrolling lazily through his phone as the club buzzed with life around him. The low hum of conversation, the clinking of glasses, and the occasional burst of laughter from his fellow pros filled the air, but it all washed over him like background noise. He was here because he’d been dragged along—again. Designated driver, the role he always got stuck with because everyone else wanted to get plastered and he didn’t trust those dumbasses after what happened the first time.

He stifled a sigh, his eyes narrowing in disdain at the scene unfolding around him. A couple of bikini baristas were eyeing him from across the bar, giggling and whispering to each other, clearly trying to muster the courage to approach him. He didn’t even bother looking up, though; he knew exactly how it would go. One of them would sidle up to him, all flirty smiles and batting eyelashes, and then he’d spend the next few hours scrubbing glitter and body spray off his skin because she’d gotten too handsy. It was more trouble than it was worth.

And to top it all off, his favorite performer wasn’t even here tonight. That had been the one thing he’d looked forward to—seeing her. The first time he’d stumbled upon her had been a total accident, courtesy of Denki, who’d practically shoved him into that private room with an exasperated “Loosen up, dude!” And honestly? Bakugou had been pissed at first, but then she started dancing. It wasn’t even sexual as it was…. almost romantic? It felt personal, like she was performing for just him after a long day. Like it was only the both of them in that warm darkness. 

There was something about her. She never asked personal questions, never tried to flirt or tease like the others. She just danced, with an almost ethereal grace, and then she was gone, leaving him in peace. He didn’t know why, but he found that comforting. Maybe it was because she didn’t try to pry into his life, or maybe it was because he could just sit there, unwind, and not have to deal with anyone’s expectations.

Maybe it was because his mouth didn’t get in the way for once. 

He didn’t ask to see her up close, though. He knew that would break the illusion, the little bubble of escapism he’d found himself enjoying. Did he want a relationship? Sometimes the thought crossed his mind, but between his career, the press constantly hounding him, and his deep-seated distrust of people in general, he couldn’t be bothered. 

He was scrolling through his phone, bored out of his mind, when he overheard a couple of other pros talking about some app. Something about it caught his attention, just enough to make him curious. He quickly made up a bullshit username and started browsing. 

That’s when he found her. He paused, thumb hovering over the screen as he watched the live stream. It was her—it had to be. The dance routine was so familiar, almost muscle memory to him by now. His heartbeat quickened as he watched, and before he knew it, he’d hit the subscribe button. He hadn’t bought the premium subscription to see the pics or videos on her profile yet. No, he wanted to save that for later. 

Then he didn’t even think twice before tipping the $500, his fingers moving on instinct. Katuski wasn’t sure why he’d done it, but when she thanked him personally, her voice soft and warm, he felt something in his chest tighten. He forced himself to keep his expression neutral, refusing to let his face betray how flustered he felt.

Fuck, he was blushing. In public, no less. 

She showed off her room then, clearly just set up, and Bakugou couldn’t help but feel a pang of something like sympathy. So that’s why she wasn’t at the club—she was busy moving in. It made sense now. He found himself feeling oddly moved by her situation, enough to make him send her more money without really thinking about it.

He slumped further into the chair, his mind racing. What was he even doing? He was the number two pro hero in Japan. He’d achieved everything he’d ever wanted, and yet here he was, sitting in a strip club, feeling lost and bored out of his mind. He had everything he could ever want, and yet... now what? 

Bakugou’s gaze flicked back to his phone. The notification from her stream still lingered on the screen, a reminder of the strange connection he formed in his mind. Maybe that was the answer he’d been searching for—something new, something different. Something that wasn’t tied to being a hero. 

He didn’t know what the hell he was doing, but for once, he didn’t mind not having all the answers. He’d just see where this path took him.

And then he saw your message.

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Taglist: @elarakive, @thealtofvalleyxdoodles, the-dumpster-fire-of-life, If you wanna be added lemme know!

That was the first chapter! So far there are 9 posted on my ao3 account. Chapter 1 is here

Chapter 3 is here

I own none of the images or art!!!

Be sure to check out my other works and leave likes and comments, they really help. I have a Farmer Bakugou x Gardener Reader here in the master list. Drop a follow as well if you please. Don’t be shy to leave me a little reblog if you want.

I promise I bite~

See you soon my loves!!

(｡･ω･｡)ﾉ♡

[sunflowersteves]

crazy || j.m.

chapter two of ain't no sunshine

pairing || joel miller x f!sunshine!reader

summary || you get injured during a patrol and Joel is too occupied to assist your wound. what happens when someone else has to take over?

author's note || i hope you all enjoy chapter two! since the second to last episode, all i could think about was that smirk joel gave. oop. i promise next chapter will be fluffy. now that it's spring beak, i'm hoping to write much more for this series. can be read as a stand alone but follows a series! 5.8k!

warnings || jealousy, injury, hurt/comfort, canon-typical violence, murder, blood, possessiveness, brad has his own warning (ifkyk), unrealistic recovery time, delirium, joel is self deprecating and self sabotaging, arguments, SMUT, rough sex, fingering, praise kink, taunting, degradation, dom joel, joel is a little mean, but don't worry because soft joel makes an appearance, soft sex, creampie, [18+ only!!]

series masterlist || part one || masterlist

Crazy for thinking that my love could hold you I'm crazy for trying and crazy for crying And I'm crazy for loving you

You weren’t sure when it happened—when the blade twisted into your gut, cutting your flesh and piercing your intestines. You could feel the pain. It was dull and throbbing as wet crimson seeped into your t-shirt. 

You heard a cried-out yell, and turning toward your side, you saw it. You saw the knife that was once in your stomach was now in your hand—lodged into your attacker’s skull. Your body had acted on instinct and perpetrated that familiar gut feeling of violence and revenge. 

You pause, just for a moment. You could feel the adrenaline kick into your system, and a numbing pain flushed out your senses. The blood felt warm and sticky—prompting the sleepiness to feel calming, and it urged you forward into its safe surroundings. 

But then you felt it. Panic. Panic rose in your neck as you looked around for someone. Your hand darted out to try and find them, but your mind was starting to become blank from the fuzzy warmth of pain. 

Joel.

You needed Joel.

But all you knew was that Joel wasn’t by your side. Joel wasn’t here. He wasn’t holding your hand. He wasn’t whispering into your ear about how everything was going to be okay. 

You didn’t know where he was. Then, you collapsed to the snowy ground, white dots fluttering around you. It was almost comforting the way the snow danced around you like soft wet pillows. You opened your mouth. You wanted to say something—you wanted Joel, but nothing could leave your lips.

It all happened too fast—too soon after just leaving the commune for a patrol. You and Joel had spotted someone walking too close to the river, but you and the rest of your party hadn’t seen the tracks behind you. You never noticed four men creeping their way to surround you. 

It almost felt astonishing, really. You, Joel, Tommy, Maria, and Brad were not new to the dangers of survival, especially you and Joel.

The two of you and Ellie have had your fair share of raiders and non-friendly people alike. You and Joel protected Ellie in every way possible, punching your way through cheekbones and splattering scarlet liquid. 

You and Joel weren’t new to picking out tracks and finding the smallest detail of other life. So how could you miss this?

“I’ve got you.”

Your brow crinkles. That doesn’t sound like Joel. You peek open one of your eyes to see a man—what was his name? Oh, yeah. Brad. 

You didn’t want Brad. You wanted Joel. You wanted the scruff of gray hair poking out loudly against the soft brunette ones. You wanted those honeyed brown eyes staring at you in concern and anguish. You wanted Joel to hold your hand as he gently took you into his arms and carried you all the way back. 

Finally, you speak. “Joel. N-Need Jo—”

“I know, but he’s not here.” He placed his hand on your abdomen and applied a great deal of pressure. Your breath hitches, but then your lips fall into a frown. 

“Joel isn’t here?” Tears start to water your lash line, but none of them fall. If you weren’t preoccupied with the open wound on your side, you would have noticed the twitch of a smirk on Brad’s lips. He was purposely attempting to make you feel alone like you've been abandoned by your partner. 

Your eyes start to sting, a fresh tear falling down the side of your face, right below your temple. Something was wrong. Something felt very wrong. You knew Joel would never ever abandon you, so why did Brad say that?

You could feel yourself become dizzy, and the white specs that fluttered around you started to become hazy. You opened your mouth, and your eyes felt so heavy. You could hear someone telling you to stay awake, and it didn’t feel like Brad this time. Maria? Tommy? 

You weren’t sure, but it was no use. You let the sweet lullaby of sleep take over you, and your eyes fluttered closed. 

You whispered Joel's name��over and over. 

═ ∘◦❦◦∘ ═

Tommy hadn’t seen Joel act like this in quite some time. Everyone saw their fair share of grumpy glares and pissed off, snarling Joel, but never this—not since the very beginning of the outbreak.

Joel had just been so irate. He was so entirely impassioned with rage—furious and calculating as his fist connected with the raider's face, over and over. But there was something else, too. Fear and hurt swirled and ignited between his brown eyes at the sight of the blood that seeped into your clothing. 

He watched it all happen. He watched the knife lodge into your stomach. He saw your blood that almost became fluorescent in the white snow. He felt his chest seize as his eyes followed your fist that was puncturing the knife into the raider’s skull. 

He saw the way Brad flew to your side, the way that he yelled at you to stay awake. He watched as your eyes fluttered close, and desperation rose in his throat. He tried calling out your name, but he couldn’t get to you.

One of the raiders wrapped his arm around his neck and choked him—no doubt the raider using Joel’s vulnerability of pure agony to his advantage. 

He couldn’t get to you.

He repeated it over and over in his head. He grabbed the raider’s arm and used the weight of his body to fling the guy forward. Joel didn’t waste a single second. He grasped the gun that was flung out of his hands earlier to the raider’s face. 

The clock was ticking. He couldn’t get to you.

“Wait, wait, wait, I can help—”

Joel pulled the trigger, releasing the bullet and popping loudly against the barrel—shoving the nine millimeters of metal into the man’s head. He fell limp to the ground, and the hands that were clenching around Joel’s forearms slowly dropped. 

He looked over in an instant to see that Tommy had knocked out the last of the men that had surrounded all of you. His head snapped back over to you, feet crunching against the snow with each step. 

You weren’t moving—not even your eyes were fluttering—and Joel felt the whole world swallowing him whole. His heart thumped loudly against his chest as his knees hit the ground, no doubt bruising them in the process. 

Brad was on the other side of you, applying pressure to the wound still. “About time, old man.”

Joel ignored him—honestly, he was not even sure he really registered his presence at all. All Joel could do was hold your face, not caring about any of the blood that smeared onto your cheek. “Baby?”

His eyes skated across your face to see a sign—a twitch of your brow, a pull at your lips, anything. He could see the tears that started to gloss over his vision. “Sunshine, please.” 

He paused, desperately searching. “Please.” 

Tommy says Joel’s name softly as if he were going to snap at any moment. He flinched a little when Joel moved. The dark depths of memories from before rushed through his brain. His mind almost became blank—so did Joel’s. Was this going to be the same?

Maria was the one that snapped them out of it, holding her broken wrist to her chest. “We need to leave. We have to get her to the clinic.”

Joel's arm loops itself under your neck, and Tommy pulls your legs up to make it easier to lift you. He scoops you up into his arms, pressing a watery kiss to your forehead. He needed to get you home, and he needed to do it now. 

You murmur just barely under your breath and so quietly that he almost misses it. He wasn’t quite sure if you were even conscious. 

“Joel.”

═ ∘◦❦◦∘ ═

Worry, why do I let myself worry?

Wondering what in the world did I do?

Crazy for thinking that my love could hold you

The crackling, sultry voice of Patsy Cline flooded into your ears. Your eyes blinked open to see familiar plain white walls. You breathed in to smell fresh pine and some reminiscence of Joel’s cooking. 

Home. You were home. 

You could feel yourself groan as a dull pain spread from your abdomen to your chest. Your head felt a little fuzzy, and you tried to get your bearings, pushing yourself up from what felt like fluffy pillows. 

“Easy. Woah, slow down.” You smiled at the high-pitched voice. Ellie. 

She grabbed your hand, the other guiding the small of your back to sit up. While your wound had mostly healed by this point, there was still going to be a lot of internal discomfort. 

“How long was I out?” You rasped out, your vocal cords rubbing like sandpaper against your throat. You coughed out, and Ellie was quick to bring a glass of water to your lips. 

You gulped down heavily, the relief of the cold liquid soothing your aching throat. You cleared your throat and handed the water back to her. “How long?”

Ellie bit her lip, an uneasy expression lifting onto her face. “Six weeks.”

Your mouth gaped open. “Six weeks? Oh my god—”

She tried to quickly play it off as if she, Joel, Tommy, and Maria weren’t shitting their pants every day at the thought of you never waking up. “But Patsy Cline woke you up! I played all your favorites, especially the ones that you and Joel like to sing all the time, and I knew for sure that she was going to do the trick and—”

“Where’s Joel? Is he okay? Did they hurt him?”

Ellie winced at the mention of his name, but her heart also thumped against her chest. You were literally stabbed in the stomach and almost died multiple times, yet you still thought of someone else. You still thought about the safety and well-being of Joel.

His typical sunshine. Her typical mother. 

She gently squeezed your hand. “Joel is fine. He only had a couple of bruises.” She paused before answering your first question. “He’s, um, at Tommy’s.”

You just blinked, feeling the disappointment crash against your chest. “Oh.” 

Oh. That was okay. He didn’t need to be constantly by your side. Maybe he just needed some rest or comfort from his younger brother. That was okay, right?

Right?

“Is he sleeping?” You could tell by the way she avoided your eyes that something was wrong. What that was, you weren’t exactly sure. He wasn’t injured, so what else could it be? You gulped—suddenly feeling parched again. 

“No…He’s awake. I think so, anyway.” She winced again and knew that she wasn’t helping his case at all. “He hasn’t exactly left Tommy’s to come here.”

When Joel carried you all that way to the clinic in Jackson, he collapsed on the hard ground and cradled you in his arms. You felt cold. You felt unmoving. The entire walk back, he felt helpless—breaths of hopelessness crowded his brain, and all he could think about was that he lost you.

When they tried to take you into the operating room, Joel almost wouldn’t let them. He was clouded by fear and burning with uncleansed rage. 

He lost you, and he did nothing about it. He lost you, and he did nothing about it. It repeated through his head until he could no longer think, hear, see—anything at all—but those words. He couldn’t let them take you—he wouldn’t let them take you from him.

Finally, after realizing that he was wasting the precious time of your beating heart, he let them carry you into a back operating room. He never left the clinic that night, even after the ten-hour surgery. 

After that, though, Joel wasn’t the same. At least, he didn’t feel like it. 

While Tommy knew that and Maria knew that, you and Ellie didn’t. Ellie hadn’t seen Joel in six weeks—just Tommy checking in and bringing her the basics of food and water and helping you. Maria would come too, to bathe you and give you medicine. At first, Ellie thought that Joel had just been hurt or he was forced to go on another patrol.

But no. She realized Joel just hadn’t visited you at all. She was angry at first, stomping over to him and giving him a piece of her mind. As she calmed down, though, she knew Joel cared about you. Deeply. 

He was just…Joel. 

He was unemotional and brash. He was jarring and inanely grumpy all the time. He has violent tendencies and a very distant, dark past. He pushed everyone away from him—only gave affection within a ten-foot pole radius. God, he really, really pushes the people he loves away. 

She knew that she could handle that. She was stubborn and hardheaded like him, so it was a bit easier. She just was worried you wouldn’t be able to handle that.

Ellie and Joel were your worlds. You even told the two of them that when star-gazing one night on the roof of your cabin. You were sweet and doting. You were so calculating and headstrong when you needed to be. But if Joel wasn’t careful about this, she knew he could break your heart.

You go to stand, suddenly feeling a burst of anger rush through you. Ellie could tell by the way your eyebrow twitched and the hard thumps of your socked feet sauntered across the floor that you were very mad. 

“Look, please just—”

You hear a crashing noise outside of the guest bedroom door. Both of your heads whipped over to the loud sound. You would have almost let fear take hold of your chest if it weren’t for Joel bursting through the door not a second later.

His chest heaved up and down, rapidly, and eyes wide at the sight of you standing. You were in some sweatpants and one of his flannel button-ups. Your hair was a little damp. He had no doubt it was from Ellie washing it earlier this morning. 

“Joel.”

His eyes don’t even acknowledge Ellie’s presence. They’re just scanning your body over and over. You seem okay. You seem good. You seem alive.

His body carried itself forward before he was even thinking. His arm stretched out, and the pads of his fingers stroked your cheek. He takes a minute to look at the ways your eyes shone from the light of the window. 

He then retraced his hand so fast, as if your skin was a hot stove—sizzling and burning to the touch. He even took a few paces back. He could feel his eyes watering with each deep, dismal thought pulling him under. 

“You’re awake.”

He said it so softly that you weren’t even sure you heard him right. You just stood there, mouth opening in shock at his reaction. You weren’t really sure what to make of any of this. Shit, you weren’t even awake twenty minutes ago. 

Ellie cleared her throat at the awkwardness. “I’m gonna…go do things.” With that, she left the room, and a small ‘yikes’ escaped her lips. 

There was a long beat of silence before either of you spoke. Joel still looked at you, though. He couldn’t help himself. He still couldn’t believe that you were awake. You were the one to break it, your mind was wandering too aimlessly at all of the unknowns. 

“You didn’t visit me.” He opened his mouth, but you didn’t let him talk. “Ellie said I was in a coma for six weeks and you didn’t visit me.”

The cracking of your voice and the tears on your waterline broke his heart into two. It was split wide open and ached against his chest. “I-I couldn’t. I saw you layin’ there, darlin’, and I just couldn’t.”

You lightly scoffed. “Couldn’t or wouldn’t? I mean seriously Joel, who the fuck doesn’t visit their partner after they almost die and—”

“What do you want me to say, huh? That I wasn’t fuckin’ there for you? Is that what you want me to say?”

You purse your lips, your hands flying in the air. “No! I–I wanna know why, Joel. I wanna know why you couldn’t even see me.”

His nostrils flare at your tone—crackled and gloomy as it echoed across the room. “Why would you want to see someone like me? Huh? Brad was all over you, and—”

You couldn’t believe him right now. You almost didn’t, but the swirl of green that rested in between his eyes said otherwise. Joel didn’t visit you in your own shared home after being seriously injured because he was jealous? 

“Oh, my god.” You wanted to laugh, and you did. Laughter, the kind that was dark and fluid, bubbled through you. “You can’t be serious.”

You could tell there was something he wasn’t telling you. His hands were tight around the doorframe, and his eyes were glued to the ground. You wanted to pry a bit more, but as Joel always says, “You’re an absolute sunshine until that fire ignites inside of you.” 

“Maybe I should go to him, then.”

Yeah, that got his attention. His eyes flickered up towards yours, mouth opening slightly. “What?”

You crossed your arms over your chest. “You heard me. Maybe I should go see Brad. I should tell him to take me out to dinner at the bar. He seemed super interested a couple of weeks ago when he—”

“You shut your fuckin’ mouth.” Your mouth snapped closed as Joel towered over you. His nostrils flared, chest pulling up and down at a rate that was too calm—too calm while the red between his eyes burned a hole in your own chest. “You think Brad can please you? hmm?”

His fingers grip your jaw so that you’re forced to maintain eye contact. Not that you would give the satisfaction to Joel from the throb of your core anyway. “Yeah, Joel, I think he can.”

His eyes squinted, his face leaning even closer than before. “So if I shoved my hand down, your pussy wouldn’t be drippin’ for me?”

Yeah, okay. He’s got you there. “Huh? Gonna say anything, darlin’?” You defiantly squint your eyes back up into his. His tone was anything but sweet—it was snarling and patronizing as his brows furrowed even further.

Before you could even open your mouth to give a snarky comment back, Joel aggressively shoves the sweatpants you had on down to your ankles. “You’re a fuckin’ brat, you know that?”

He gets on his knees, fingers pushing between your folds. Sure enough, you’re wet. As if on cue, Joel smirks as his finger swirls to grab your sweet nectar. “F-Fuck you, Joel.”

“Yeah?” He groaned into your ear. His thumb presses deep into your clit, sparking your hips to jolt at the pressure. “I don’t think so, darlin’. I don’t think you deserve my cock.”

You gasped, “J-Joel–”

He slipped his index finger, pushing through your tight walls. His cock twitches at the whimper that left your lips. “All I’m doin' is fuckin’ you good with my fingers.” 

His torrid voice breaks you whole, sweet accent slurring his words together. “Can Brad do that? Could he make you dumb from just his fingers?”

He wants you to answer him, but he knows the pleasure is starting to blossom in your lower abdomen. His fingers always made you cum so fast and so hard. They always stretched your aching pussy so wide and scissored the perfect angle into you.

So, he was going to take his sweet time. 

He chuckled. “C’mon, you weren’t this shy earlier. I want you to answer me, sunshine.” Your head tilts back in a gasp, the nickname rolled off of his tongue, and it was so blissful. “Can Brad do this?”

You shake your head, mouth opening, but nothing comes out. You were sensitive—really sensitive. “You can do it, pretty girl.” God, he was enjoying this a bit too much, it was starting to drive you insane. “Answer me.”

The demanding tone struck through your chest, and you almost didn’t give in. All anger practically washed out of you when he inserted another finger—curling them with each thrust. “No! H-He can’t. B-Brad can’t fuck me like you do.”

A devilish smile sprouts from his lips at your affirmation. “That’s all you had to say, sunshine. I fuck you better, hmm?” The squelch of your juices running down his fingers sounded almost ethereal to his ears. “Look at you,” he coos, and you almost believed that it was sweet. “Fuckin’ dumb from just my hand.”

He pauses, almost taunting like. “Do you want my cock?”

Your fingernails dug deep into his shoulders, his name clouding over your mind, and it was all you seemed to think about. “Yes! Please, Joel! I-I want your cock. N-Need it, please.”

“Well, you can’t fuckin’ have it.” His fingers shove even deeper through your walls—finding that spongy spot that makes you mewl. “You don’t deserve it, sunshine.”

You weren’t sure how much more you could handle as the pressure builds, making your head feel a bit fuzzy. “Joel, please. I’m—” 

Oh.

Oh, you see it now. You almost say it. The apology almost rings through your ears. He wanted you to apologize for what you said to him, and it almost worked. Almost. 

You may be happy and considerate the majority of the time, but you were angry. Irritation still bubbled up between your chest, and you weren’t about to let Joel get away with something so easily. 

As if he knew, his eyes flared in anger. “Fuckin’ cum.” 

“I–I won’t—” You say defiantly, trying to make him more frustrated. He knew you better than that, though. He could feel the clench of your walls and the grip on his shoulders became increasingly tight.

“Fuckin’ cum right now, sunshine, or—” Your mouth hangs open as your orgasm breaks you whole. It flutters through you as he works you through it, thighs shaking and Joel’s name chanting from your lucid tongue. 

“Doing so good for me, yeah?” His hand thrusts into you, thumb still stroking your puffy clit. He groans at the gush of your juices dripping down to his wrist, and he leaned down, tongue swirling to just grab a little taste of you. “Y’taste so good, darlin’.”

Your head rolled over to nod. Your eyelids were heavy from the pure pleasure that rushed through your head and down to your toes. His fingers slip out of you easily, and plops them into his mouth, sucking every drop of your orgasm.

He takes his fingers out of his mouth and pulls himself up from the ground. Something sinks in between his stomach, though. He can feel the dread of confrontation unfolding in his eyes. 

The way you look up at him, Joel knows he doesn’t deserve this. You don’t deserve this. Your hand fluffs through the back of his hair, and he thought that your touch would bring him the comfort he needed. But it doesn’t.

He feels like he is going to be sick. He was mean to you. He degraded you. He acted like he didn’t trust you. You could see that he was pulling himself away from you with the way that his eyes snapped shut and his head shook back and forth. 

You tried to reel him back in, wanting him to know that you were just as angry as he was. You were just as turned on by his rage as he was by yours. But it was no use. Joel Miller had made up his mind already.

“I’m going for a walk.”

Your face fell as he bolted from the room. Pain swirled in your stomach, and a sob escaped your lips. You suddenly felt sick to your stomach, and everything just felt so wrong. There was a sunken feeling in your chest—a feeling of a hole burning through your heart. 

He left you.

Again.

═ ∘◦❦◦∘ ═

Tap, tap. Maria opened the door to your bedroom just a little, peeking her head in. “So the rumors are true. You are awake.”

You turned the pages of your favorite book, not even looking up at her just yet. “Awake as anyone can be.”

She smiled up at you before fully pushing the door open and entering the room. She had a glass of water and a handful of pill bottles—probably expired, but they have been probably keeping you alive. 

“Any pain?” 

You shook your head, but that was far from the truth. You just didn’t have any pain from the area you got stabbed. You just had lots of heart and head pain. 

“Good. Since you were out for quite some time, your body was able to mostly heal.” You noticed the small bag in her arm and figured it was most likely some more medical supplies.

You gave her a faint smile and turned another page—eyes skimming the small words. “Thank god. You know I can’t stay still for long.”

She chuckled, nodding in agreement. She gave you the pills you needed. You swallowed them down, gulping the fresh water. After handing the water back to her, you looked down at your book again.

She looked over at you, and a smile widened on her lips. “He read that to you every night, you know.”

You blinked, confused. “What?” You dog-eared the book and placed it on the bed next to you. You had somewhat of an idea, but the shock was still evident. “Who?”

Maria smiled and set down a couple of more pills on your bedside table. “It’s some pain medication if you need it.” After you nodded in acknowledgment, she sat down next to you on the bed. “Joel.”

Your eyes widened slightly. She continued, “After Ellie would go to sleep, he would sneak into the house. I told him he didn’t have to do that, but well, you know him.” She knocked her elbow with yours. “He just sat there all night reading that book to you, over and over. He’d come back to our place at around seven in the morning before Ellie woke up.”

She paused, looking right at you. “I know how he is. I know you know more than any of us, but that day? I hadn’t ever seen him like that. He was broken. He muttered under his breath the whole way back that you were gone, and it was his fault. I kept trying to tell him that you still had a steady heartbeat, but he was just—just fully convinced.”

She gave you a watery smile, noticing the tears streaming down your cheeks. You wiped them with the back of your palm and sniffled from a runny nose. 

“Oh, Joel.” You sighed, feeling slightly guilty, but you knew he would hate that. You didn’t know. He specifically chose not to tell you or Ellie anything because that was what he does. He pushes you away because he thinks he doesn’t deserve you or this life you have. Your silly, precious Joel. 

“I’ll leave you to it. Get better, okay? I need my movie-watching friend back.” She pats you lightly on the back before standing up from the bed.

You laughed, nodding in agreement. “Oh, I’m sure it was hell trying to watch Little Women with Tommy.”

She huffed, a hand on the doorknob. “You have no idea.” And with that, she left the room. You stayed there on the bed and tried to dry your tears. 

You felt an ache burst through you. You knew Joel wasn’t telling you everything. You knew it.

There was a part of you that still felt guilty, even though you know you shouldn’t. You just didn’t know what those six weeks felt like as he waited for you. He pleaded every night for you to wake up. Every ten hours after finishing the book, he would ask you all the same. 

You finally had enough of this. It was all his decision to wallow in his own darkness and sorrows—and you were going to put an end to it.

You took the duvet off of your lap and sauntered across the room. Your hand twisted the doorknob, and just as you whipped the door open, you were met with a hard chest. Joel’s hand was fisted, hanging in the middle of the air.

Your eyes widened as you looked up into his deep eyes. “Joel.” You whispered. Tears already started to water against your lash line from the sight of his creased brow and worried gleam in his eyes. 

“Darlin’.” He grunted. His hands clasp gently against your cheeks, and it pulls you forward. His eyes flickered across your face, and his thumb moved to wipe your tears. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have said any of that, okay? I-I just didn’t want to tell you the truth, and I just–I used Brad as an excuse—”

“Joel.” You bit your lip, trying to shake your head, but his hands stopped you. His other thumb moved back and forth in adoration on your cheek. 

“I just–I know I failed you. I know I failed Ellie too. I made you a promise that I would never do that again, and I broke it.” His voice cracked, and he let out a huff of air.

“Joel, you didn’t.” Your hand moved up to his chest, stroking back and forth, and he closed his eyes. “You didn’t fail anyone.”

He shook his head. “I did. I did fail you. When I saw the b-blood that—” He paused at the gut-wrenching memory, “I couldn’t get to you. I-I couldn’t help you, darlin’.”

Your breath hitched. Joel was worried about trying to help you. Not saved—like you were some damsel in distress. Not saved, as in pushing you aside and using his ego like others would. Not rescue you. Not recovering you. He wanted to help you. 

“Oh, Joel.” Your hand goes to cup his cheek, “Look at me. Joel—” His eyes snapped open, and he stared at your breath-takingingly beautiful, teary face. “You did help me.”

He opened his mouth to disagree, but you beat him to it. “You carried me all that way, and no one else could do that. Maria had a broken wrist, Tommy has noodle arms,” Joel lets out a snort, “And we can’t rely on a complete stranger to carry me back home. You did. You helped me more than anyone else in this damn world.”

A sob escaped his lips at your sweet affirmation. Tears cascaded down his cheeks, and he surged your cheeks forward to his, lips desperately pressing against your own.

They swallow you—burning a fire inside of you and your hands gripping his chest so tight that you were afraid he would vanish if you hadn’t. He licks into you, moaning.

“Sunshine.” He said, a smile turning up on his lips. He pressed his own back onto yours, so chaste and tender that it makes your knees buckle. “I’m sorry. I love you.”

His lips moved to your neck, and he whispered that against your skin.“I’m sorry. I love you.” His hands flittered down to your hips and gradually started to move you toward the bed. 

You whispered right back at him. “I’m sorry. I love you.” You could feel his lips curl into a smile on your skin, lips still pressing against the base of your neck and your collarbone. “I’m sorry. I love you.”

He gently laid you down on top of the bouncy mattress, hovering over you. He started to take off his jeans, and you do the same with your sweatpants. He gently unbuttoned his shirt, but his eyes never left yours. In fact, they were boring into you. They were glittering under the dimmed light. They were bursting full of love and worship for everything and everything you. 

He leans over on top of you, and one of his hands gently massages your breast. You wantonly sighed, pressing kisses onto his scruffy gray beard. A hand gently rests on your hip, sparking a hot sensation on your skin. His thumb swipes back and forth, and it takes everything in you not to let tears roll down your face once more. 

“I love you, sunshine.” He said it with such adoration and love that your heart seizes in your chest. His cock slipped into you easily, the arousal from earlier and the dripping now mixed and connected. 

“Joel, I love you—I love you.” He moaned at the clench of your walls. His lips lowered to press soft kisses to your chest. He thrust deep, the head of his cock piercing through you. The sweet contrast of Joel was making you feel dizzy.

He pulled back just a little. He wanted to look at you—he wanted to see you. Your mouth hangs wide open for him, whines and whimpers escaping your throat. “J-Joel! Feels so good, Joel.”

He smiled, “Yeah, Darlin’? Love my cock, don’t you?”

You gasped, preening into him. “Yes! Joel—” He thrusted into hard and his deep, hips brushed up against yours. “F-Fuck, baby—”

“Y’Pussy feels so fuckin’ tight, sunshine.” His lips pressed so gently against your skin, tasting the salt that seeped through. He groaned, hips slapping up and puncturing through you. 

“Joel, I love—love you.” You whined. His hand moved to swirl circles on your clit. You could feel the pressure build and burst through you. 

“Gonna cum, sunshine? Yeah, that’s it. Cum for me. Cum all over my cock.” 

You mewled, and he pushed into you a couple of times before you scream his name. “Joel! Joel, I—I love you, I love you.”

“Fuck, my sweet sunshine—” He grunts, coil snapping on his own and clashing against his abdomen. His cock twitched inside your walls, and he spilled inside of you. 

He pumps you full, while muttering under his breath. “I love you, sunshine. I—fuck—oh—I love you.” You whined his name over and again while he did the same. 

You clutched onto one another, desperate to be as close as possible. His lips pressed against your cheeks, leaving soft and gentle kisses in his path. He moaned as he felt your walls clench once more around him. 

You opened your eyes, flickering over his wrinkled lines and strong nose. You wanted to hold him forever, and he no doubt felt the same. 

After six weeks of pure agony, Joel finally felt whole again. He had you by his side, and he felt so loved by your presence. 

You were glad to be finally awake. The toll of being under for so long definitely affected you and your body. But, you couldn’t be happier than to share a little moment with Joel. Your Joel. 

Finally, after quite a while of enjoying each other's company—pressing soft kisses and caressing each other's skin—you break the silence. “We should probably go tell Ellie we’re okay.”

He nods in agreement, but he makes no sudden movements. “Jus’ five more minutes, darlin’?”

You gave him a big smile. “Yeah. Five more minutes, handsome.”

[dietmountaindewbae]

please please please can you write me a fic where reader and Humbug Alex are both work colleagues (reader thinks Alex is goofy and nerdy - but boy she will be wrong) and they fuck in his office whilst a work party is happening downstairs. PLEASE

xxv. talk tonight

alex turner x reader

word count: 4739

summary: At an office party (humbug!) Alex watched you all by yourself, his heart tells him to hurry and talk to you before he loses the chance to.

warnings: ch*cking, scracth*ng, degrad*ng.

playlist

──────────୨୧───────────

The elevator doors shut close, and finally, some silence makes you feel at ease. You're not even close to feeling a buzz with the skinny glasses of sparkly champagne they served and as you traveled up the rooftop you propped a cigarette in your mouth.

You swing open the door of the building's rooftop, the company you worked for was having its 6th anniversary, and while everyone was celebrating downstairs, you were aching for some time by yourself. The fresh cold allowed you to breathe but it only made goosebumps crawl up your back.

"Be careful there" Someone says from behind you, you are too close to the edge of the wall, so you turn around on your feet and face the man with the gentle voice.

"What are you doin' up here?" You say with a silly smile. Alex was one of the best workers at the company, he's been rewarded and recognized for his honest work and loyalty to the company, he's a good guy but socially awkward when it comes to going to bars late at night after working extra hours.

"Just wanted some space" You've never had a real conversation with Alex, let alone, be completely by yourself with him. Alex was a nice man, with his long wavy hair and his shy little voice and thick Yorkshire accent, he was decent, always serious but he had something likable and magnetic about him.

"Me too, are you having fun though?" You grab from your skirt your lighter and try to burn your cigarette, in the attempt you fail, and he leans in, grabbing the lighter and helping you light your cigarette, grabbing one from his box.

"Not quite there yet," He says, blowing the smoke away, "I'm waiting for the booze to kick in" You giggled, catching Alex's attention.

"It's the first time I've heard you say more than 4 words to me" Alex looks down to the floor smiling, he's quite shy but very nice, "I enjoy that..." He looks back at you with a smile, maybe it was the booze, but his radiant brown eyes looking at yours so deeply make you feel hot.

"What about you? How are you feelin'?" As you were talking, Alex's eyes ran down your body discreetly, you were looking sexy with your black mini skirt long sheer black knee socks, and grey silk button-up blouse, nearly unmade, your nails painted black, and your hair in soft curls. The smell of your perfume and the cigarette that burned in between your fingers blew him away.

"...But overall I think the party's ok, I just don't like the music the DJ chose" Alex smiles softly, and each time you talk he takes a step closer to you.

"Horrible set, isn't it?" You lightly chuckle nodding your head, "What kind of music would you like him to play?"

"Mmm... I dunno maybe the smiths? I love the smiths... I know it's an odd choice for a party but-"

Alex interrupted you by lightly putting his hand on your arm, his thumb caressing the soft material of your shirt, "No, no, not at all... it's much better than the trash they're playing" He noticed his hand on your arm, and you smiled as he took his hand away very shyly, as if he had to ask if it was ok even to do that, you crossed your eyes and he look down to the floor scratching the back of his head, "I-I..." He clears his throat, "Sorreh.... I know the DJ, he's an old mate, I can tell him to play some smiths for you" You see the way his body moves closer to yours, how his shoulders move unsteadily as he breathes, meaning his heart is beating fast, his eyes looking at you with hope, and you realized... someone has a crush on you.

"That would be great, thank you Alex" You and him head towards the door after throwing away your cigarettes, he opens the door for you and closes it once you are inside the building, you smile at him as your eyes crossed again, and you take initiative to grab his hand as no one was watching.

Getting involved with your co-workers was never an option for you, all the men that worked here were bitter and boring, always bragging about their money, faking a smile every time they talked about their marriages just to proceed to flirt with all the women at the copier room. You didn't have anything bad to say about Alex, he was a dork, a bit shy and awkward yet he was the most interesting and likable person in your office. He made himself present with little actions, he sometimes dropped by your desk to leave you a bagel or doughnut since you worked in the cubicle next to his, but you weren't the only one who received those little acts, so you thought nothing about it, he hardly even knew your name, but he always smiled at you whenever he saw you.

For all you knew, he was single, and he's very reserved, you only ever see him talking with Nick or Jamie, the drinks in you made your rules bend a bit, maybe see where this gets you, maybe nothing would happen, but if it did, you wouldn't feel bad about it at all.

The only rule that had to be respected was, not being seen flirting with him, rumors spread faster than the speed of light in your office, and you didn't want to ruin this little spark between you two for just one night.

As you and Alex step into the elevator, you drop his hand, being on opposite corners of the elevator, you cheekily smile at him, he looks visibly disappointed at how you dropped his hand. When the doors opened again, you two walked side by side, keeping a reasonable but choking distance from each other as if he was agreeing to your rules without you even having to tell him. As you walked past the people you stepped into the disco-style dancefloor with squares of neon lights, and Alex walked forward to the DJ, saying hi to the guy with fuzzy curly messy hair, black headphones on his neck, grey sweatpants, and funny sunglasses.

He whispers something to his ear, and the guy nods and they switch the music. You hear the hypnotic sound of the intro of 'How Soon Is Now?' by The Smiths, you're lightly divided by people, but he's still able to watch you dance, and you look beautiful as you do. He sees you smiling, laughing, and having fun with the other girls, but your eyes are only on him, and his on yours.

Alex wasn't a man of many words, but ever since you had come into the office, a part of his heart had started to beat so rapidly, that he always turned to look at you whenever you untied your tight ponytail and let your hair fall, whenever you stretched your back and he could see the outline of your chest peek through your shirt, he was gone. He never tried to speak to you, he was too self-conscious to do so, he lived all of his fantasies of you and him in his head, he had the sound of your voice engraved on his head. Whenever you dropped something he was always there to pick it up and hand it to you, or when the printer was out of paper he was the only one that gave you some new paper to work on, every day when he arrived with fresh goods he made sure you were the first to get the warmest piece or the biggest slice. He did all of that, but you didn't think it was out of a crush, you thought it was him just being nice, and man if he could tell you how wrong you were.

In his head, you two had thrown away all of the people and there was only you and him dancing to some old music that no one thought was fit for the occasion, but you thought there was no better timing than this one, but the fun ends as you feel someone's breath on your neck, one of your supervisors drunkenly whispers close to your ear...

"That skirt fits your bum very well" You rolled your eyes and walked away, not saying another word, Alex following you closely. He catches you at the elevator just in time sliding inside.

"Hi," He says out of breath, you giggle and he brushes his hair away, "Where are we going?" You smiled as you heard the excitement of his voice.

"Well, I was planning to go the rooftop again..." You say looking down to the floor, he saw how that man had whispered to your ear something that woke up a flaming rage inside you, something so profoundly disgusting, you just wanted to get away as fast as you could.

"I have a better idea..." You smile, he presses down at the button, and he waits patiently in the opposite corner, facing you with a smile, you wonder in your head where he was taking you, while he was battling in his head what else could he say to keep you interested, he thought he could bore you at any given time. The doors of the office were open, the lights were completely down, and only the lights of the city that shone through the cracks of the curtains could show you two the way. He noticed you were afraid to step inside, but he grabbed your hand and pulled you in, "The cameras are down for the night, don't worry love, no one's gunna 'now we were here"

You smiled, "I'm not worried about that... just not a big fan of the dark..." You giggled and he played along with you, he grabbed your hand tighter, making your cheeks lightly blush as you walked into his cubicle, you sat on his desk while he pulled from a corner a carton box and took out a big bottle of whisky, "I didn't take you as a bad boy, Al"

"Well, this is the only thing that takes some of me headaches from when me and Jamie stay late doin' those bloody Excel sheets" Then he takes out from his pocket his MP3 connecting it to the little speaker next to his desk, playing more music for you as he quickly goes to the break room and fetches you a plastic cup and a soda. He sits on his chair and pours you some coke and whisky, and when he severs you a good amount of alcohol he hands you the cup and grabs the bottle touching the edge of the bottle with your cup and you both drink away.

"Thanks... I couldn't handle more wine... needed something stronger" You smile at him, and he brushes his long hair away.

"Do you wanna know something else about the office?" You smile and nod your head, fixing your hair to the side, he shuffles on his chair and you hear the sound of his lighter coming off, he puts a cigarette in his mouth and lights it, blowing the smoke up directly without causing the fire alarm to go off.

"What the fuck?!" You both break into laughter, "Oh my God!-" He lightly shushes you to make you talk quieter, you keep laughing until your abdomen hurts, and you sip on your drink once more, "Imagine the day I decide to set my supervisor's chair on fire... God"

"He's a dickhead" You nod your head.

"I don't even wanna say anythin' else, I mean he doesn't touch me or anything but that doesn't mean he cannot say anything to me... which is what angers me" He nods his head, turning on the lamp next to his computer, "Thanks"

"I wanted to see you while you're talking" He smiles, and you lightly blush once more, "Next time he says anything to you, why don't we put some tacks on his desk?" You giggle together, you can't help but stare at the way the corners of his mouth rise to make that cute smile appear, you like how discreet he was, lightly grazing your hand whenever he laughed, or how his eyes sweep down to gaze your body.

"I was wrong about you Al," You say, he drags his chair closer to you very slowly so you don't notice but you do, and you don't mind it, "You're the only interesting person in this office"

"Why is that? You're always laughing with Brian at the copier" You stare at him with a cheeky grin.

"Are you jealous or something?" You tease him, and he stutters into his words trying to fix his mistake.

"No, I just thought that... never mind" He looked away, taking another sip of the bottle, you grab the cigarette trapped in between his fingers, taking a drag and staring at him deeply.

"He's just a funny guy, there's nothin' much going on with me" His eyes light up, so after all, you weren't the only one who was concerned about him being single or not.

"I'm glad," He blurs out, making you both smile, "What is so interesting about me anyway?" You bit your bottom lip, taking a big sip from his bottle of whiskey, the liquor scratching your throat but it goes down easily once you sip on your coke.

"I mean, isn't it obvious?" You smile at him, starting to feel a bit dizzy, he takes a big chug of his bottle while you talk, "I just know that you don't say everything that you think, there's more to you"

"You're not far from the truth," He says nudging his head and leaning closer to you, resting his elbow on his desk next to your leg, you saw his face properly now, and he was a dream.

"Why? Is there something you want to say to me, Alex?" You teased leaning in closer to his face, your hand almost touching his, you could smell his cologne now, the space in between you two almost being none.

"I'm afraid there aren't enough words for that" He looks down to the slit in your shirt, your arm squeezing your tits together, he could see your black lace bra perfectly, he had this insatiable need for you, "But as you know already, I am not a man of many words, I take actions" His eyes looked down to your lips, licking his, already drooling to get a taste of your lips, until you suddenly pulled away, scratching the back of your head, "Wait, what happened?"

"If this is going to happen, we can't kiss"

"But..." There has to be a but always.

"I'm not gonna do it if we're gonna be awkward in the mornin'" You cross your arms sitting comfortably on the desk.

"I'm not like that," He says with a smile, but he sees your position and your limits, he just wanted a little bit of you, from the moment he saw you outside all by yourself under the moonlight with your beautiful eyes and lips smiling to him he knew he had to strip out of his costume and talk to you at that moment, he needed and wanted you now than anything, "If you don't want me to kiss you, can I at least touch you?" You bit your lower lip, sitting upright, his eyes only looking at you and not anywhere else begging you to say yes, he desires you with a big ache, you see it right in his eyes, just as transparent as glass.

"Yes.." He cups your cheeks and his face approaches yours, looking at you with lust, his lips peck the inner corner of your lips, traveling up to your earlobe, his fingers lightly playing with your hair, and his lips kissing your neck very gently at first, but then he licks his lips, kissing your neck with big wet kisses all over the place, sniffing every last bit of your perfume. He kicks away his chair, standing up to run his hands down your sides, unbuttoning your shirt gently, sneaking his hands to your bra, kneading your tits and squeezing them hard, you sigh and he breathes in your quiet moans and sighs like smoke, letting it consume him from the inside out.

"You're so fuckin' beautiful" He whispers into your ear, kissing the left side of your chest, where your heart is, you try to fight the urge to kiss him, but impatiently, he's in great need to show you real pleasure, to tear down your rules and let him taste your mouth, there was nothing he desired more in that moment.

You untuck your shirt, letting him enjoy the taste of your skin, and his hands feel your bare skin, his hair lightly tickling your neck, and you couldn't escape the need to run your hands thru his soft curls, lightly pulling on his hair as he lets your tits spill out from your bra, sucking on them and nibbling your nipples with his teeth, his tongue licking and his mouth sucking every inch of your skin, leaving red bruises on your chest so you don't forget who's been there the next morning.

He momentarily pulls away from you, his lips tearing off your skin like scar tissue on your knees, "What?-"

"You were right, love," He says, the look in his eyes sending shivers all over your body, "I haven't told you everything"

"What else have you got to say to me?" His hands slowly travel down to your legs, riding up your skirt until they unravel your black lace underwear.

"I've been watching you ever since you came here, every day, every time you felt exhausted and you stretch your back against the chair, I just want to make that go away... make you feel brand new... drop a note and tell you to meet me in the bathroom, and make you sigh out of pleasure and not from being tired, I only see you" His eyes dug in yours as he kneeled in front of you, "Maybe you think I'm quiet and dorky, but you don't even know for how long I've been thinking of you like this" His knuckles pull your soaking wet panties to the side, his eyes watching you as his fingers enter your body and his lips suck on your pussy harshly, slowly your orgasms started to get louder and louder each time his fingers rimmed your walls. Shamelessly he licks your pussy up, swallowing every ounce of the wetness that leaks out of you, "You're so fuckin' tight babe, taste so delicious"

"Fuck... please, don't stop!" You push his head in between your legs, starting to feel that ache getting bigger and bigger as he sucks right at the spot you needed hard, his fingers fuck your pussy faster, filling up that hole so well, more wetness rushes out from your legs, your end is yet to come, you feel it crawling up from your belly to your chest, starting to form in your throat as a scream until he takes his mouth off from your warmed up cunt, leaving you to breathless and needy for more.

He covers your mouth with his hand, sliding down his fingers covered in your arousal into your mouth, your lips sucking them hard until he makes you gag around them, pulling them out from your mouth with a string of saliva, "Can you be quiet for me?" He says it in such an easy way you're so amazed.

"Mhm," You bit your bottom lip.

"Tell me babe... are you gonna let me fuck you or are you just gonna pretend your pussy isn't drooling for some of it?" Your cheeky smile is no competition for him, he's certain you're in great need of more than just fingers and sucking.

You grab the buckle of his belt, undoing it very slowly, your hand palming his hard-on, you smiled as you felt the size and weight of his cock, biting your bottom lip as you take him out of his boxers and see him on the flesh. The tip of his cock leaked some wetness, he sighed as you give his veiny cock a few strokes, the tip of your thumb rubbing down his head, spreading it all over his cock. His hands cover your mouth pushing your head back and his tip rims your clit, lubing up his cock with your juices. You were trying to find a way to get more pleasure from him but the only way was right in front of you, "You know what to say babe... don't act like a dumb little cunt"

Your eyes lock in his, his lips a few inches close to yours, to kiss your lips, "Fuck me, Alex, please..." You bite your lower lip as the tip of his cock slides down tightly inside you, making you sigh. His fingers dig into your thighs, and you rock yourself against him, your elbow in the desk while the other holds Alex's shoulder tightly, his hand gripping the wall and the other one in your lower back. He rocks his hips against yours, fucking you slowly and passionately, the tip of your nose against his, he liked to watch your pupils dilate as he buries himself deep inside you.

"I loved leaving you just like that... soaked in all of your juices for me cock to slip inside you... God, you're so fuckin' wet for me... you fuckin' cock lovin' whore"

"Fuck you" You pant, "Fuck you Alex" You push your hips against his harder, his hands scattered in the back of your head, wrapping his arm around you, driving his cock in and out of you so hard, you were slowly losing yourself in his arms, enjoying how good he's fucking you.

"You love it," He says with a grin on his lips, his lips moaning against yours, grazing each other, laying one in another, but so far from being sealed together, that kept him on the verge, everything being strictly physical, the desire of wanting the feeling of your lips around his will bother him for the rest of the night.

Your tits bounce against his chest, sweat drips down from his forehead, and he's forcing himself to handle longer just for you to come on his cock so hard your whole body would feel light and high in the sky. You grip his shoulder tightly, holding yourself up with your hand, his fingers wrapped around your neck as he feels your pussy dragging him in, getting tighter with each stroke of his cock in your walls. His thumb went down in between your legs, rubbing your clit in tight little circles, forcing you to come, your abdomen pushing out your last cry of pleasure, and you choked out a little sigh of relief.

Alex was fast to pull out of you, you watch how his hand made a fist around his cock, and you didn't want him to finish like that. You willingly get down on your knees, and blow him thoroughly, "Jeeesus fuckin' christ... fuck!" He made a fist with your hair, "You want me to cum in your mouth, babe?" You hummed as a yes, sucking him harder as he drove your head back and forward. He drove his hips into your mouth, pushing your head until the tip of his cock hit the back of your throat making you gag all over him, feeling him come inside your mouth in hot spurts at the feeling of your soft plump lips. You swallowed without him having to say it, "Mmm... fuuckin' hell, that was..."

"Really good," You said, he helped you get to up from the ground, holding hands and smiling at each other.

"You're ok? Your knees don't hurt or anything?" You giggled lightly, feeling a little strange about how much he cared for those little things.

"No, no, I'm alright" You turned to fix your blause, putting each button back on, and when you faced him back, you saw him staring at you with his big puppy eyes in awe, "What?"

"You've... um, your eye... I'll fix it" He grabbed the edge of his sleeve, he was wearing a basic white button-up shirt, denim jeans, and a belt. He cleaned the stain in your eye from the crying, and while you fixed your hair, he put everything in his desk back in order.

"Thank you, Al," You said with an honest smile, "I had fun"

"Sounds like a goodbye," He says with a fainted smile.

"No... it's not, I'll see you tomorrow, right?" He fakes a smile and says yes with his head, before you head out, he grabs you by the wrist and pulls you in to give you a warm hug, you lean back to get a better look at him and say, "Sweet dreams, Al"

"You too" You break the hug, leaving the confused man with his big brain and questions all by himself.

When he drove to his apartment and laid down on his bed, he grabbed his phone, wanting to send you a message, but what type of message? You said you were ok, even said you had fun, but he was hooked. He was aching to know more about you, to know what you think. The rest of the night he kept looping around in his head every word he said to you, and everything you and him had done. He didn't want to sound so needy, but at least he wanted to talk to you.

The next day at the office when Alex sat on his chair, he smiled, vividly remembering what had happened the night before. But he knew something felt strange, he felt something was missing, this feeling was bittersweet, and you came right in through the door with your black low-waist pants, heels, and baby pink shirt with some buttons undone, he knew exactly what he needed to do.

There was a moment when everyone was working quietly in the cubicle, and he pushed himself up from his chair, walking through your cubicle he dropped a little purple post-it note at your desk.

"Break room"

That's all the letter said.

You put the note away in your purse, walking to meet him, you closed the door and he was waiting for you behind it.

"Hey," You said with a gentle smile.

"I- um" You sighed, thinking you knew well what he wanted to say. So, you cut him up before he did.

"Nothin' happened last night, you can forget about it... we had fun, let's leave it like that" But before you could escape him he pulled you back in by your wrist, making shivers run up your arms.

"No, I wasn't gonna-" He smiles very kindly to you, making you feel warm, "I just wanted to ask you out for dinner, tonight... if that's ok?" A little smile crawls from the corner of your mouth.

He liked how you looked with that little smile in the corner of your lips, that little blush creeping up your cheeks, "Yeah, yes"

You both smile at each other very shyly but happily, you nod your head and slowly take a step back but he leans in, his arm wrapping around your waist, "Now that we're sober... is the kissing policy revocable? or..." You break into laughter and take a step closer to him, he leans in and presses his lips against yours. You couldn't believe how just a simple little kiss on the lips could feel so electrifying, his lovely warm lips open to kiss you properly, he tasted the fresh cappuccino in your mouth with soft cinnamon in your breath, mixing with the taste of your lipstick. He tasted like black coffee and a cigarette bright and early in the morning, a mixture that makes one become an addict.

When you pulled back some blush creeps into your cheeks, "I'll see you later then..." You said.

"Last one before you leave" He pulled you in, giving you another soft kiss on your lips, biting down on your bottom lip before your lips tore apart.

A/N

I'll be posting more of your requests soon! I love you all, and I've taken some time to make the playlists fitted for the chapters, some will be longer than the others but I hope you enjoy them all.

[rosedpetal]

Workmates

Summary: Ransom Drysdale has been the essence of hell in your life, and now you two are forced to work together.

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Reader

Word count: 5.2k

Authors note: this is a repost, and it was originally a three part fic.

Warnings: smut at the end.

Minors, do not interact.

Masterlist

Ransom was staring at you with a shit-eating grin on his stupid face. The remains of your coffee were sprawled on the cafeteria floor, on the table, and on your - not anymore - white shirt.

"Jesus, Y/N! Are you okay?" Your boss, Emma, the senior partner of the law firm you worked for, asked you while you put your weight on your hands to get balanced enough to get up. You wanted to scream that no, you were not okay. You fell on your fucking knees after being tripped by Ransom. That son of a...

"I'm fine, really." You mumbled, accepting her hand for help. Emma weirdly looked at Ransom. She was probably confused about why he didn't offer you, a lady, his hand. You almost laughed. Ransom Drysdale was no gentleman, and why would he help you when he was the reason you almost broke your kneecaps?

You sighed, trying not to cry. You didn't spare him a second glance, because you knew that if you did, you would end up kicking his groin.

"You don't seem fine, sweetheart." His condescending voice mocked you. "Perhaps we should have this conversation on another day?"

It would be great for him to have this conversation on another day. He and you were fighting for the same promotion in the firm - and you'd been there for the past three years, while the nepo baby had started a few months prior - and it was being a nerve-wracking competition where he would torment you, and you would try not to react.

So much for having some fucking peace.

You spent years studying hard to get a decent-paying job, one that would make your parents' struggle of having a kid in college worth it. You had to be successful. You owed them that.

And while some of your classmates - Ransom Drysdale and his obnoxious rich buddies - partied and failed assignment after assignment, you almost went crazy doing everything you could to get your law degree and pass the bar exam.

You still couldn't get a grasp on how Ransom passed the bar. Back then, he never seemed the studious type, and he never gave you a second glance either - the girl in the front seat, face buried in books, making notes and asking questions all the damn time. You didn't pleasantly catch his eye, either. Most of your female classmates had tans for spending weekends on sunny beaches, had better wardrobes than you, and could have meals without feeling guilty because the money spent on it wouldn't make a difference in their bank accounts.

You envied them. But most of the time, you couldn't be allowed to feel sorry for yourself when there was such a long journey to complete.

It was for the best, in the end. You got into a renowned law firm and paid off your student loans. With your new income, you could finally afford a good apartment, treat your parents and give yourself luxuries you never dreamed about.

And just after you finally started thriving, Ransom fucking Drysdale got a job offer at the same firm, and he dared to look surprised when he saw you working there.

You were the one who should be surprised. Ransom was a total airhead - and that was a compliment. How the fuck a lazy rich man-child passed the fucking bar when he didn't bother even attending classes?

Why is life so fucking unfair?

“You dozed off a little, sweetheart." Ransom stated while you stared at Emma.

"I think we should have this conversation now, I can just put a sweater over my shirt." You tried to put on a calm voice but you cringed at how you sounded distressed.

Damn right you were about to cry.

"Hmm, okay." Emma stared at the two of you back and forth. She was too damn smart to not see through your poor excuse of a friendly façade with Ransom, but she was also kind enough to not say a thing about it.

"I gave it a thought, and while you, Hugh, are way above the expectations for your lack of experience; Y/N's been the top attorney of this firm for years. It's not really a fair comparison."

It's really fucking not, Emma! You wanted to yell at her face but forced a smile at the compliment. 

"So, I had this amazing idea." she continued, and you started to panic. While Emma was brilliant she could be so naive with her ideas. She looked at you. "You get the promotion and take Hugh under your wing. You'll work on your cases together, and he gets more experience... What do you think?

Before you could answer her, Ransom smiled like a kid in a candy shop.

"We're gonna work so well together, Y/N!" The bastard grinned. "Thank you for the opportunity, Emma, it means the world to me."

You wished the earth opened up and swallowed you up.

Your new office was way bigger, just as much as the dread in your veins. It had a nice view of Boston from your giant glass windows, and you couldn't even enjoy it because of your new work buddy.

"Good morning, boss!" His voice chanted behind you, and you turned to face him, angrily. "Why the face? Didn't get your coffee this morning?"

You breathed in, out, in, out. Maybe if you counted to ten, you wouldn't throw him out the window. You pictured the noise his body would make once it hit the ground, and suddenly, you were in a lighter mood.

"No, a little bitch tripped me and I couldn't enjoy it. But I just know you're going to be a sweetheart and get me another one." You pronounced the word 'sweetheart' with vengeance. 

"How do you like your coffee, sweetheart?" He mimicked and smiled at you, unfazed. 

Oh, the realization hit you. He was totally gonna spit on your precious coffee.

"Nevermind, I'm not in the mood for coffee anymore." You answered him quickly, trying to ignore his disturbing existence and adjusting your things. You were an organized person, and all the files of your current cases were organized inside a big archive box.

You sat on your new chair and placed your laptop on your new desk while Ransom was still staring at you like a moron.

"What?" Your voice came out harsher than you intended.

"Just thinking. I should've given you more attention in college. Maybe I would be sitting on your chair and you would be the one fantasizing about spitting on my coffee."

You snorted and he looked at you, amused. You were caught off guard too.

After that little moment, the first day working with him went by surprisingly well. You went over cases, spoke with clients and he took everything in gracefully. You were still mad at him, how couldn't you be? He was a fucking brat, and he was an ass with you for no reason.

Well, he had a reason but it wasn't a good motive. He tried to bully you to quit, how fucked up in the head that could be? If work was high school, Hugh Ransom Drysdale would be the mean cheerleader captain.

When you were about to leave for the day, grabbing your coat and your bag, Ransom stopped you.

"Hey, wanna have a drink tonight?"

You rolled your eyes.

"Absolutely fucking not, Drysdale."

He just shrugged, and you went straight home.

After a few weeks, Ransom started growing on you. On a particularly rough morning, when a client was being a pain on your and Ransom's existences, he brought you coffee after noticing you were on the verge of crying.

"Don't let it get to you, Y/N. God knows I don't." He offered with a tight smile. You were too tired to make a snarky comment about him being an actually decent human being, so you just sipped on your coffee before you went full sobbing.

Those damned female hormones.

Ransom cleared his throat.

"Ok, this is awkward." He clarified. Between crying and sniffing, you weren't really surprised at how emotionally stunted Ransom was. 

It was comical. He stood there, not knowing what to do. And then, he patted your head.

He actually patted your head. Like you were a fucking dog. You were so stunned at the gesture that you didn't even realize it when you started laughing.

You threw your head back, new tears forming on your eyes. You laughed so hard that your tummy hurt.

Ransom laughed with you too. Like genuinely laughing. Who would say such a thing could happen?

You rolled over, grabbing your front and trying to catch your breath.

You didn't notice, but you started growing on him too.

Your work dynamics with Ransom were almost perfect. You finally felt like you could trust him to do some work on his own, so you let him be on some paperwork while you finished others.

The weather began to get chilly by the end of your office hours and Ransom invited you to his place to get over a file again, to which you stupidly agreed. So you followed his car, getting a little anxious.

When he finally pulled over, you were quite surprised at how cozy the two-story house looked. It wasn't something you expected for a single man. 

He even had a white fence!

He smiled at you when you walked through the door, taking in the dim lights, the fireplace in the living room, and his big kitchen. You wondered if he cooked his own meals.

"Wine?" He offered, already pouring a bottle of some expensive delicacy you've never tasted. You only bought cheap drinks, maybe too worried to spend so much money on such a frivolous thing after how you struggled financially growing up.

"Just a glass, I don't wanna get dizzy." You accepted the glass in his extended hand and took a little sip.

You never even read the file you were supposed to.

Ransom started to babble about how he bought this home after passing the bar exam, excited to start a new journey in his life, where he could be his own person and have something he achieved for himself, instead of working with his grandfather for the rest of his life.

Listening to his life story, his fucked up family, and how he self-doubted he could actually succeed without their money and connections made you feel a little more sympathetic toward him.

Because while you resented him for having the life you only dreamed of, his privileges got in his way of flourishing. And despite all of your struggles, you had loving parents that nurtured you into the woman you were now.

"Do you know I used to despise you?" You let the words slip off your mouth before you could stop them. "You infuriated me. I hated how carefree you were in college because you could fail and you would still have new opportunities. It was my only chance. I worked so hard, and then I saw you at the firm and..."

He looked at you, expectantly.

"I doubted you. And after Emma stated that the promotion was for me or you, and you began to make my work hours a living hell, I even contemplated looking for another job."

Ransom scoffed.

"I wasn't that bad."

"Say that to my knees, Ransom."

He chuckled. 

"If it makes it better, I didn't think you were going to get hurt."

You lifted your brown and sipped on your wine, emptying the glass. He reached for the bottle to pour more, but you stopped him by putting your hand over his. His eyes moved to yours, and then to your lips.

He didn't hesitate when your lips reached for his, eager and passionate. Your body began moving to its own accord, straddling his lap on the leather couch, his hands on your waist, groping your ass, on the back of your neck pulling your hair to leave a trail of wet kisses on your jaw, neck, collarbones...

You yelped when he ripped your white blouse, buttons flying everywhere. He cupped your breasts over your bra, savoring your beautiful body over him.

"You have no idea of how much I fantasized about this, Y/N" His breath fanned your ear, and he sucked on your earlobe, almost taking your earring off. You let out a little gasp when his hands reached under your skirt. "I always knew the promotion was yours. But seeing you mad was such a turn-on."

Your eyes shot open. You crossed your arms over your chest.

"I wasn't just mad, Drysdale. I was having the worst time of my life since college! I can't believe you right now" You got off his lap easily, and he didn't try to stop you.

"Don't be like that, Y/N, I already apologized-" He started, but you cut him off quickly:

"And just because you said your sorry words it means everything is fixed, uh?" You scoffed at him, grabbing your bag on the kitchen counter. "See you on Monday, asshole."

You stormed off his house, ready to drown in regret for kissing him. 

Because now that you did, you couldn't get the tingling feeling off your lips and the longing for more.

You were dreading the moment you'd have to get up from your bed and go to work. The weekend went by really quick, but also really slow (the waves of anxiety tormenting your thoughts were responsible for that).

Monday morning, after brushing your teeth angrily, sipping on your tea angrily, and almost tearing the zipper of your favorite pencil skirt, you took a breath and asked yourself why you were so worried. Ransom wasn't really that important (except he was, and not even you could deny it for much longer).

You were angry at yourself. That night you were at his place, drank his wine, and also, you made the first move. When have you become so bold? 

And then, you snapped at him and had to become sexually frustrated too.

It's like I hate myself or something, you thought, grabbing the designer bag Emma gave you on your birthday and putting your belongings in it.

Maybe I should just quit, move to another country and start a new life. Okay, you were being too dramatic, but how could you face him now?

You weren't brazen like Ransom. For all you knew about him, he could kick a puppy on the street and go on with his life like nothing happened later. 

But you? You calculated your life at the smallest details, meticulously navigating through all your milestones and you never strayed. You tried to be the nicest person on the earth, because life was already hard as it was. You couldn't just snap one day and let it all go down to drain.

"Why that face, Y/N?" One of your colleagues asked when you entered the building. You bit the remark on your tongue and just said you had too much to drink the night before.

Jesus. You had a resting bitch face. Should you get botox?

Almost getting lost in your thoughts (you couldn't really ignore the anxiousness at the bottom of your stomach, threatening to spill back the contents of your breakfast), you got in the elevator, pressed the button to your floor, and let your back rest against the metal doors.

The door opened, and your gaze lowered to your black scarpins. Ransom cleared his throat, mouthing a low "good morning". You held your breath when his cologne filled your nostrils. It seemed ten times stronger now, hitting you with vengefulness.

Why did he have to smell so good? You never noticed a man's perfume before, they all seemed pretty much the same to you, and you never noticed Ransom's either until recently.

Until you were straddling his lap, getting intoxicated by it.

"Did someone steal your teddy bear or something?" He asked abruptly, turning to face you. "Can we not be awkward right now?"

"It's too late for that." You replied in a weird voice, shifting the weight of your feet to the other. Ransom rolled his eyes.

"And why the hell are you so pale? When was the last time you ate?"

You pinched the bridge of your nose in your thumb and index finger. You just ate, he's just being an asshole, Y/N, you reminded yourself.

"Are you seriously gonna pretend I'm not talking to you right now? How can you-"

"Ransom, SHUT UP!" You yelled, surprising you both with the tone of your voice. "Sorry, I just- can we not do this right now?"

He sighed. When you reached the floor of your office, Ransom went first, stomping his feet. You almost smiled, he was such a child. 

As he walked in front of you, you couldn't help but notice his peachy bottom.

"Were you checking me out just right now?"

"Yeah, you could use some squats." You stopped daydreaming and replied in a sassy tone, putting your bag on your desk and crossing your arms on your chest. Your eyes reached his and your expression softened. "Look, Ransom, I'm so sorry about that night. I shouldn't have done that, I'm so mortified. That was really uncalled for. And unprofessional. I understand if you want to go to HR and get me a complaint." You word-vomited, speaking so fast that if he wasn't paying attention he wouldn't get a thing of what you just said.

His eyes widened and he gave you a short, humorless laugh.

"Why the hell would I do that to you, woman? I was giving you signs the whole evening. I wanted that for so long, and I'm so fucking mad at you right now for apologizing for the wrong reason!"

"Ransom, I-" You tried to reason, but he cut you off.

"No, you shut your fucking mouth now, Y/N. I even gave you space because I didn't want you to feel pressured or anything. Do you have any idea how many times I tried to text just to never press 'send'? And now you apologize for kissing me? You should apologize for leaving me with a damn boner-"

"Lower your voice!" You half whispered half yelled at him, looking around to see if anyone heard what he said. His jaw clenched, and he got closer to you. When you were face to face, he punctuated in a low tone:

"I'm tired of your bullshit. Do you think having your whole life planned will get you everything you want? I see a frustrated woman who can't let her guard down and can't even get laid".

His breath was mixing with yours, words cruelly spit, and you felt your nostrils flare with anger. He kept going as if he didn't humiliated you enough:

"It's actually for the best. You're probably a bad fuck, anyway."

You turned on your heels with balled fists on your sides and chose to ignore him, otherwise, you would really give him a reason to go to HR.

The two of you were back to square one. He would be a little shit to you, and you would try your best not to punch his face. You were glad he was your protégée and not the other way around - you didn't like to think what he could do to you in a position of power.

On lunch break, you got yourself a salad with grilled chicken, not really hungry. As you sat to eat with one of your work friends at the restaurant across the street from the building, you spotted Ransom talking to a woman from another floor. She was twisting one of her locks in her finger and laughing at something he was saying. You rolled your eyes, scoffing, and went back to eat your salad.

"He's so hot" Lizzie sighed, daydreaming. "How can you work with him and not be head over heels?"

"Just talk to him for a minute and you'll know why." You seethed and chewed on your lettuce.

"That lady over there seems quite fond of him." She went on, not picking on your mood shift. "Look at that nice piece of ass over there! And those muscles under those sweaters? I'd let him choke me to death with those arms".

"Please, shut up." You begged. "I'm about to throw up".

"Stop being a prude." She rolled her eyes at you. "Oh, that bitch is so lucky, she's probably thinking about-"

"Oh my God, Elizabeth, I'm not eating with you anymore." You interrupted her monologue and she eyed you curiously.

"What's your deal with him? You two slept together or something?" You didn't dignify her with an answer and her eyes widened. "Oh God! You totally did-"

"Shush!" You pressed your index finger on her lips. "We didn't, but we kissed. And this conversation is over. I refuse to talk about it ever again."

You must've sound really serious, because she actually dropped the subject.

With a blink of your eye, the week was over. Your interactions with Ransom were getting more mechanical and since you showed no interest in engaging with his childish games he stopped disturbing your peace.

Lizzie respected your wish to not talk about Ransom for longer than you expected, just bringing the topic once to coerce you to go out with her Friday night.

And that was the reason you were wearing a shiny pink bodycon dress with thin straps and white high heels, in a long ass line to get inside a shady dance club. Lizzie was talking nonstop in your ear, and you just listened, bored and in need of a drink.

When you finally got in, she dragged you to a booth and ordered cocktails for you two.

"Let's get you loosened up to drop the constipated face!" She yelled over the music and you glared at her angrily, sipping on your glass and probably making a face.

"What the hell?" You weren't drinking that. God, that was so disgusting, whatever that drink was made of it was fucking terrible. You got up to the bar to get something else, and then, you saw him.

Ransom was sitting with his friends and with a pretty brunette stuck on his side, almost on his lap. He must've felt your gaze on him, because he turned his head and he locked eyes with you.

Fuck.

Okay, you weren't a coward. You could play it cool. Breaking eye contact, you went to the bar and ordered a piña colada, and as you were waiting for your drink, you felt someone's hand touching your arm.

Sighing, you looked back, ready to fight the asshole who was touching you without your permission.

Your jaw almost dropped when you saw Ransom with a smirk on his face.

"Are you alone?"

"Yeah, haven't you heard? I'm a terrible fuck." You grinned and he laughed, his cheeks a beautiful shade of pink, probably from drinking.

"One of my buddies over there asked if you were single."

"Oh. I'm not interested" you stated.

"Don't worry, I told him that you have gonorrhea."

Your blood boiled.

"What? Are you insane, Drysdale? I'm going to fucking sue you, you stupid son of a bitch!" You index finger were on his face and he broke in a fit of laughter, his hand resting on his stomach.

"I'm just kidding, god, your face!" He managed to say between his stupid giggles. You rolled your eyes and went to the booth to find Lizzie.

How could someone be so insufferable? It was like a gift.

"I'm offended that you didn't like my drink." Lizzie pouted at you, already drunk. Yeah, you could see how the night was going to end. You holding her hair while she emptied her stomach on the toilet.

"Girl, take it easy." You rolled your eyes. "You won't believe who I just saw".

"Mr. Drysdale?"

"Yeah, how did you know? Oh." You barely finished your sentence and she moved her head, pointing to him, sitting in front of you in your booth. "You don't fucking give up, do you?"

"Can we talk?"

"No!"

"Yes."

You looked at Lizzie, feeling betrayed. She got up and left you alone with him, that little bitch.

"Okay, Drysdale, humor me."

"I miss you?"

"It sounds like a question, not an statement." You shook your head to him. "And don't you have an arm candy waiting for you over there?"

The girl he was with minutes ago stared at you with bitterness, her crimson red lips curled in a thin line.

His eyebrow rose. "Am I detecting a hint of jealousy?"

"In your dreams, Drysdale. Just thought you'd like to go back to her, since she's marching over here looking royally pissed."

When Ransom turned his head to look, she was already throwing her drink on his face.

"You are the worst date ever!" She screamed and left, stomping her feet like she was throwing a tantrum.

Serves him right for going out with a girl that barely looked old enough to drink.

You folded your arms over your chest and smiled at him. His hair was wet, and the drink was dripping from his chin, also wetting his shirt.

You were wrong, going out tonight was totally worth it.

Somehow, you, Lizzie and Ransom left the club together.

Well, more like he was helping you carry the woman and get her taken care of.

Without complaining (for your surprise), Ransom secured Lizzie in his arms while she threw up on the street outside of the club whilst you held her hair; got an Uber for you guys and helped you put her in the backseat; picked her up bridal style while you searched for her keys on her JW Pei bag; tuck her in bed gently while you got a glass of water and aspirin for her and left them on her nightstand.

You two mumbled good night to Lizzie, and she replied in drunk gibberish. 

When you left her apartment, you locked the door on the outside and slipped the key back inside under it. 

And just like that, you two were alone, and you suddenly became aware of that and the silence.

Ransom's hair was a little messy, but you never thought of him so handsome as he was in that moment. His blue eyes bored into yours like a silent plead.

You wondered if you two would ever understand each other.

It seemed like hours, but only seconds have passed. His body got closer to yours, and he grabbed your middle, pulling you into him. You let out a little whimper when his forehead rested into yours, noses touching.

"Please, don't run away now." He begged, his voice hoarse. His skin was a little sticky, probably from the sugary drink thrown on him earlier.

You answered by claiming his lips with yours.

You moaned softly, feeling your lips swollen. Ransom kissed you breathless, unlocking his front door and dragging you inside with him. He pulled you by the back of your thighs to straddle his hips and squeezed your ass cheeks roughly. The hem of your mini dress was already rolled up to your stomach, giving him free access.

You knew you wouldn't be able to get to his bedroom.

He lowered you into his leather couch, taking his shirt off the next second. You bit your lip while taking him in - he looked like a damn god. 

Fuck my life, you thought.

Driven by lust, you grabbed him by his belt and clumsily unbuckled it, cussing at it. He chuckled lowly and helped you, lowering his jeans of his toned legs along with his boxers. You felt your mouth water at the sight of his cock: long, thick, hard and leaking for you.

You looked at him through your eyelashes and moistened him with your saliva, rolling your tongue sinfully on the red tip while he watched you with a clenched jaw, using his hands to put your hair on a ponytail.

"You did not learn how to suck dick like a pro until after college, that's for sure." He mocked you, and you pinched the inside of his thigh. Ransom hissed at you, and completed: "''Cause you were too busy studying to practice thiiiiis-" He moaned, curling his toes when you finally took him in your mouth the best you could. 

You felt your panties getting wetter and your jaw ache. You bobbed your head, slowly at first, getting used to his thickness. Your dominant hand jerked the rest of him off, and the other grabbed his butt to force him deeper into your throat.

You drooled all over your chin, feeling tears prick on your eyes when he picked up the pace and face-fucked you. You gagged and tried your best to breathe through your nose, while Ransom let the dirtiest sequence of curses leave his mouth.

He stopped the assault on your throat abruptly, and lift your body up by your hair slowly.

"I'm gonna cum on that sweet mouth some other time, I need to be inside of you now." He sat you on the couch and pulled your dress off your body.

He kissed you again, impatient this time, lowering his hand to your panties and ripping them. He threw the destroyed lace on the floor and rubbed his fingers on your slickness, lubricating his fingers. He slipped one inside of you and you moaned at the entrance, massaging his tongue with yours.

He added another finger and curled them inside of you, earning a gasp from you. You screamed when Ransom started scissoring you in a fast pace, unprepared for it. Your high was building fast, and you came on his fingers, getting his hand wet with your juices.

"Fuck fuck fuck" You cried out when he didn't stop, convulsing again and sobbing on his mouth. He retreated his fingers from you and laid you on the couch, then stroked his cock with his hand, rubbing the tip on your clit. You moaned and he sank on you, making you tense with the intrusion.

Slowly, he bottomed you out. He grabbed your hips, and your legs wrapped around him, urging him to move.

He moved back.

And slammed back in.

You cried out in surprise, while he fastened his pace and fucked you good. 

"Yes baby, this fucking cunt is mine now." He groaned and rubbed your clit with his thumb, snapping his hips into yours. "Say it".

"It's yours-oh God-" You cried out. Ransom showed you no mercy while he fucked you, making your insides burn and build that familiar coil again. His hips snapped into yours with vengeance, making your eyes roll back on your skull. No sound left your mouth when you came again, shaking. Ransom pulled out and came on your stomach, making the sexiest sounds you've ever heard from a man before.

He fell on your side, calming his breathing. Ransom threw his arm around you and kissed your temple gently.

"We're gonna take a bath and find out a way to tell Emma that we're a thing now". 

You smiled, closing your eyes and hoping he would carry you to that bath, because there's no way you could walk now.

[rhey-007]

Viva Las Vegas!

Fernando Alonso x driver!reader

Summary: What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas... But not this time.

Warnings/Tags: female reader, mentions of hate comments, mentions of racist comments (literally just a mention nothing specific), fluff... I guess that's it : P

A/N: I FINALLY FINISHED SOMETHING JXVSHHEHRHBRBT I'm so happy haha

So this fic is based on this ↓ request. I hope I lived up to your expectations TwT I honestly think it's a cute little fic and I love the inserts :3

Wordcount: 2925

*:..｡o○✨○o｡..:*

You sighed in relief finally leaving the F1 studio after you finished filming Grill the Grid for Las Vegas. You loved doing those, it was a lot of fun but the filming was always the last part of your job for some days and after so many activities before, you were sometimes too tired to think of any answers.

Unfortunately for you, Lando and Carlos approached you the second you left the building, huge smiles plastered on their faces.

“Hi Y/N! How was filming? “

The younger one asked enthusiastically at which you just shook your head.

“What do you need? Cause I’m sure you do need something... “

“Well... We're going to a party to start off this amazing weekend and we were thinking that you might want to join us”

The Spaniard explain making you sigh. They could see you were tired but you never said no to them so they tried their best to convince you.

You could use some party and alcohol after the previous weekend when you crashed your car on almost the very beginning of the race, causing you to be upset and quite nervous ever since.

“Lewis will be there too. Literally everyone will be there! Even Fernando! “

Ah yes... The Fernando card. The forbidden card the boys knew would get you worked up to whatever they wanted.

“Fine... But you have to pick me up! “

You huffed agreeing reluctantly then walked away to get ready. You were going to some club so you decided to put on a thigh length, sparkly lavender dress, some black heels and golden jewelry with some soft makeup.

Lando and Carlos whistled at you as you approached their car and immediately said after you got in.

“Ooooh Fernando’s gonna loooove that~”

Rolling your eyes at their comment you kicked Carlos’ seat so he would finally drive away.

The party was full of Formula workers and drivers, the boys were right, everyone was there. It was hosted in one of Vegas' clubs, one you had no idea about but were glad you decided to join and discovered that magical place.

Carlos and Lando left you just after you walked in so you sat alone by the bar, waiting for Lewis to notice and join you but he was too occupied by the girls.

You sighed heavily ordering a drink and almost spilled it when you felt a hand on your back. You turned around to see those beautiful hazel eyes shining in the colorful lights and a huge grin you oh so loved.

“Hi gorgeous~”

Fernando said sitting down beside you, his hand not leaving your back radiating pleasant warmth.

“Well hello there Mr Alonso~”

You smiled widely at the older man as he checked you out. The light purple dress matched your dark skin perfectly driving the man crazy.

“The guy you dressed so beautifully for is really lucky”

“Oh there is no guy. Unless you want to be him~”

You teased sipping your drink, making a soft, barely visible in the lights blush appear on his face. Fernando noticed you started to get bolder and bolder with your flirting which made you even more attractive in his eyes. He loved confident women.

“I would be honored. May I have this dance then? “

Quickly finishing your drink you grabbed his hand and pulled him onto the dance floor where you had a great time the whole night. You felt eyes on yourself the whole time, knowing damn well no one will let you forget about this till the end of your life. But you couldn’t care less, just indulged in the moment.

The next day you arrived to the Vegas circuit for the grand opening a little hangover with your grid bestie Lewis.

The two of you drove through the paddock on his electric scooter, one earphone in each ear’s listening to Eminem, with Lewis’ chin on your shoulder. You looked like a couple and to some acted like but in fact you considered each others siblings.

Lewis was not only your teammate but also the only person you felt comfortable talking about the racist hate comments you received, as he understood you the best. Being a black woman in an European men dominated sport was not easy. You got a lot of backlash and negative opinions from some fans, coworkers and FIA staff despite being one of the best drivers on the grid.

The only group that fully accepted you were your fellow drivers. They saw you as a precious gem, a little sister they had to defend at all cost, even though you weren’t the youngest.

The one individual that thought otherwise was the oldest one – Fernando Alonso. He didn’t see you as a little girl but as a woman, a very beautiful and gorgeous woman, the object of his desires, that's why he spent the whole previous night by your side, unable to deglue - a thing the whole paddock knew.

So when he noticed you and Lewis pass by his blood boiled. The man knew Lewis was nothing more than a brother to you but couldn’t help the jealousy accumulate inside of himself whenever he saw the two of you together.

“Fernando saw us”

Lewis murmured at which you just shrugged.

“I don’t like how he's looking at you... “

You rolled your eyes with a sigh. After having this conversation with Lewis so many times you already had enough. The man didn’t approve on your behavior relative to each other. He deemed the Spaniard was too old for you, considering your 12 years age gap.

Lewis just wanted the best for you, the best for his little sister and he knew you could do so much better than Fernando. He even arranged you multiple dates with guys he thought would be perfect for you, but you always dismissed them all sometimes not even showing up to the date to Hamilton’s displeasure.

You knew he just wanted good but you found it annoying and unnecessary.

“You’re exaggerating, as always... If you don’t like it so much you should’ve looked after me yesterday and not pick up chicks... “

You remarked before hopping off the scooter and walking in to the Mercedes garage.

Fernando clearly flirted with you whenever he had a chance, so you weren’t surprised seeing him beside your platform along with someone from media filming the whole thing, blowing you a sweet kiss and sending a wink just before you and Lewis were launched for your presentation.

Hamilton shook his head disappointed hearing your giggle. He was opposed to your little ‘relationship’ or whatever you could call it but you couldn’t care less.

Fernando was a really handsome man and your age gap wasn’t something you worried about. The thing that actually worried you was his flirting. As much as you enjoyed it, the man was flirting with literally everybody earning him a status of a womanizer, which drove you crazy.

You wished you were the only one he flirted with. Little did you know that with you he meant it, he really meant it.

By the time the elevator lowered you down the Spaniard was gone. You figured he must have gone to do the interviews, to which you were escorted just after stepping out of the lift.

Later that evening you were sitting in the recording room you rented and recorded your podcast where you talked about working as an F1 driver and answered your fans’ questions. Most of the questions were about your work, some about the relationships with other drivers while some were just mean comments.

When something like that happened you usually just hung up with that person mid their sentence and answered another call as if nothing. You tried not to worry much about hate comments but had to admit that some really got into your brain and heart.

After 3 tiring hours you were almost by the end when someone asked you a very interesting question.

“Well... I was wondering... What do you think about Fernando flirting with you?”

You chuckled softly remembering all the times Nando flirted with you, how your cheeks flushed and the world seemed to stop leaving only the two of you in motion. You wouldn’t admit you loved it, but you truly did, sometimes even fantasized about it.

“You know... It’s not like he’s only flirting with me. I saw him flirt with Lance... Mark... I’m sure you saw those clips too. Fernando’s just a flirtatious guy”

“But what if it’s genuine?”

But what if it’s actually genuine?... You could only wish it was... He'd been doing this for a very long time, yet he never actually invited you on a date, that’s why you doubted it.

“If it was, he would’ve asked me out a long time ago. Unless he’s shy and tries to do it right now through you!”

You joked before thanking the girl and moving on to another person. Good thing it was the last one, because after the previous call the only thing you wanted to do was to drown yourself in your foolish fantasies.

“Last but not least – anonymous. Bring it up!”

“Would you be mad if Fernando actually tried to ask you out through somebody?...”

That voice... You could recognize it everywhere as it lingered behind Fernando almost always. Lance’s scared voice sounded in your earphones making you laugh. You never though Nando was actually too shy to ask you to a date himself, considering his shameless flirting and a status of a womanizer.

“Yes! Is he there with you?”

Silence fell on the other side before quiet bickering could be heard, then Alonso’s voice filled your ears.

“Hi...”

“Hi stranger. Is there something you would like to ask me?”

You smiled widely awaiting his response, legs jumping like crazy from excitement, teeth biting hardly into the bottom lip as the seconds felt like hours.

“Well... Uh... C-can you turn around?”

Frowning you did as he asked, turning in your chair to meet his silhouette waiting outside your glass office with a huge bouquet of field flowers – your favourite. You felt your heart melt at the thought that he remembered such little details about you. You gasped seeing him, that beautiful smile graced his face as he watched you turn back around.

“Couldn’t you just play along!? It could have been so romantic!”

He whined making you shake your head in amusement. You could not believe... The man always made you happy with just him being but this time you felt like on cloud 9.

“So?... What do you say?”

You sighed heavily thanking your audience before quickly dropping everything off and leaving the office.

“Do I have a choice?”

Asking playfully you grabbed Fernando’s arm and greeted his wingman.

“So where are we going?”

Lance dropped you off at one of the most expensive restaurants in Las Vegas, even though you told Fernando some beer and fries in a random bar was enough when he told you where you were going.

You were a little skimpy, coming from not so rich family and always felt chest pain when buying expensive things or when someone bought you something.

Alonso knew it well but he wanted to give you the whole world so since that date he had been showering you with presents, not letting you complain about the price nor giving them away.

“Fernando?...”

“Yes?”

“Please be honest... Why did it took you so long to ask me out?...”

You asked after you ordered your food. That question occupied your mind since you started to flirt with each other. You thought that if that womanizer actually liked you, he would’ve asked you on a date a long time ago, which slowly made you lose faith in the chemistry between you two. The man sighed heavily gathering his thoughts before he responded.

“Well... I have to admit I was scared... I have a big, toe curling crush on you since we’ve met but I guess I was just scared that such a beautiful, smart and young woman won’t take a liking in an old man like me... Even though you were flirting back I just wasn’t sure... “

He confessed. You smiled reassuringly and captured his hands in yours.

“Oh Fernie... You could’ve tried... The worst that could happen would be me rejecting you but I could never... You’re too handsome and wise for me not to fall for you. And don’t you ever again dare call yourself old. Because you’re not. I don’t mind your age and neither should you worry about our age gap. It’s not that big after all...”

“12 years is not a lot?”

Fernando asked with a chuckle earning one back. The man loved hearing and seeing you laugh, especially when he caused it.

“It’s not! I know worse cases!”

You laughed along the man. You’ve spent the night enjoying each other’s company, hoping the day would never end.

You woke up to the smell of fresh coffee and breakfast. You slept in his hotel room, in his bed but nothing happened between you two. Fernando loved you too much to rush anything sexual, prefering to just shower you in sweet kisses and goodnight hugs.

“Buenos días princesa~”(good morning princess)

The man soon walked in, a wooden tray full of food and two mugs of dark liquid in his hands. He sat down beside you and waited for you to sit up before he placed the tray in front of you.

“I’ve made you some breakfast. Your favourite. Chocolate pancakes with strawberries and bananas and caramel latte macchiato... Which I had to order from Starbucks downstairs as I am unable to use the coffee machine. Too complicated for my old mind”

You smiled happily and placed a sweet kiss to his lips before taking a sip of your coffee.

“Mmm... Thank you... You know me so well”

“Of course I do. I’m your one and only after all”

The man grinned before settling down beside you and joining you in eating. The morning passed by too quickly and soon you drove with Fernando to the paddock. Fortunately no paparazzi noticed you yet.

For the rest of your stay in Vegas, Alonso took you on dates, always to a different place thinking of different activities every time. You felt like he was what was missing in your life as you always felt a part of you lost until that evening.

The media quickly caught on to your romance, writing an article after an article about your relationship. The whole grid started to call you an old married couple the moment they found out, being very happy for you two just as the whole F1 community.

The only one who was still opposed to it was Lewis, but with time Fernando has managed to convince him he wasn’t so bad and treated you right.

Soon the 2023 season finished, that meant that in some time the F1 social media team was going to organise a Secret Santa gift exchange.

You wondered who’d you get, secretly hoping for Lewis, it would’ve been the easiest task ever as you knew well what he craved.

Unfortunately you drew Yuki and decided to buy him some food and sweets as it was the safest gift you were sure he’d like.

You weren’t the only one who drew someone other than they wished to. Fernando drew Esteban but wanted to get you, so he started to run around the paddock asking every driver if they got you.

Eventually he traded with Kevin who was more than happy to take Esteban, he just couldn’t think of a gift for you, whereas Fernando had his gift bought for you way earlier which waited in his apartment for the exchange.

When the day came, the social media staff caught you after an interview and you started to film your bit, which was the last one.

You sat down by the table and greeted the fans before taking the present the interviewer gave you. You smiled the whole time as you unwrapped the paper, a small black box emerging from it.

Opening it you revealed a beautiful gold ring with a shining amethyst in the midle. Looking confused at the ring you felt someone’s hand on your shoulder.

You turned around rapidly to see Fernando on his one knee in front of you, a soft smile plastered on his face as he looked deep into your eyes.

Tears started to fill yours when you finally understood what was going on, an awkward chuckle escaping your lips.

Some might thing it was too early as you only dated for a month but it felt like you've been together for those 2 years of flirting. Besides, Fernando felt like you were the one. No. He knew you were the one and you knew he was the only one for you too.

You shook your head not believing and hid your face in your hands.

“Fernando. Alonso. Diaz... You’re impossible”

You said soon, pulling your hands away from your face and smiling widely at the man.

“Is that a yes?”

You didn’t say anything instead quickly putting the ring on and throwing yourself at the man, you both falling to the ground with happy giggles and applause from the people surrounding you.

Grabbing his cheeks you kissed him passionately, not caring even a little about the cameras filming you, you wanted this moment captured and the whole world to see it.

It was the best month in your whole life...

*:..｡o○✨○o｡..:*

I hope you liked it! Let me know if you have any ideas for future fics! 💞

[jtl-fics]

But also... Andreil on the great British bake off (they have celebrity seasons)

Look, I'm gonna be honest.

It's a disaster in two parts.

Neil is there EXPLICITLY because Stuart found out that he had been asked to go do it because he is technically British. Stuart has asked him to be the bane of Paul Hollywood's existence and is willing to do quite a bit to make the man's life hell.

"He knows what he did." is all Stuart will say on the matter.

Neil agrees to come be a Baker on the stipulation that Andrew also gets to come. Andrew has no interest in baking other than what it can produce for him to eat, he has no desire to do the laborious task of baking himself.

Stuart offers him an Aston.

Andrew agrees.

Neil is a nightmare in the tent. He hates desserts. He hates measuring. He has never done a single prep bake. He has no idea what the desserts are during the technical challenge. He just goes with his gut (his iron gut). He produces three straight desserts that Paul will not let Prue eat for fear that she will just straight up die if she eats it. He is a pile of misery upon consuming all three.

When Neil is kicked off in round one no one is surprised. Paul pats Neil on the back as he leaves the tent and Neil just leans in, "Stuart Hatford sends his regards." he says now that the mic has been removed. Paul Hollywood's tan fades but Neil doesn't look back.

Andrew is a nightmare for a completely different reason and that reason is that he very visibly and honestly does not give a single flying fuck about what he's doing but he's doing quite well. He is the most boring man on camera, zero quips, won't interact with Noel and whoever the fuck is the other presenter by this point, just him doing exactly what the recipe requires and then he always makes a point of grabbing whatever Paul and Prue have judged and taking it all back to his station so that he can eat it. He stares straight into the camera as he eats an entire three tier cake. He dedicates every week he is Star Baker to his inspiration: Kevin Day.

Andrew makes it all the way to the Finals with impressive bakes that he basically just decided on 100% by how much he thinks it would upset Kevin to watch him eat it knowing that he SHOULD be doing weight training for the olympics. ("Weight TRAINING not Weight GAINING Andrew! Do you have to hold up two fingers as you eat the entire thing? Can you at least PRETEND it's not to SPITE me?" Kevin wails as Andrew calls him for the post-credit scene where the star bakers call their families usually but Andrew just uses it so everyone can hear Kevin Day lose his mind on Public Access.)

Andrew gets to the finals and his show stopper....it's immaculate. It's gorgeous. It's a work of art. Paul Hollywood is looking at this feat of modern baking engineering in wonder.

He shakes Andrew's hand before he even tastes it and-

"Stuart Hatford sends his regards."

Paul Hollywood is now nervous to eat this cake. Does he look out at the gathered friends and family of the contestants and see Stuart Hatford? Does he remember what he did?

He eats the cake because show obligations and it tastes as good as it looks but he is oddly silent as Prue talks about it.

Andrew Wins and Paul Hollywood stays exactly one entire party's width away from Neil, Stuart, and Andrew during the entire victory picnic.

Andrew gives his post bake-off speech and flat out says it was kind of boring and he wants to go home to America. The next scene is him driving off with Neil in an Aston Martin.

Edit: Thanks @the-inner-musings-of-a-worm for the idea once again!

[fanficsformyfaves]

Hallway Crush

Kirby Reed x Fem!Reader

WARNING: SMUT 18+, Loss of Virginity, Oral Sex (R Receiving), Fingering (R Receiving), Strap On Sex (R Receiving), Hickeys, FLUFF, Mutual Pining

PREFACE: Reader has always had a crush on Kirby, but what she didn't know was that the feelings were mutual

A/N: I'm appalled by the lack of stories for my wife

As if today didn't start off shitty enough with me being late, I completely forgot my laptop on the kitchen island.

"Are you fucking serious?", I whisper to myself,

Before zipping up my backpack and slightly slamming my car door closed. I start walking towards the building, when I get ambushed by Robbie and Charlie. I let out a surprised gasp and clutch at my chest.

"What's your favorite scary movie?", Charlie questions,

Pathetically attempting the Ghostface voice.

"What the fuck is wrong with you guys?", I scold,

Shoving past the two and making my to the front doors.

"You look good, (Y/N)!", I hear Charlie call out to me,

To which a return the favor with a middle finger.

"Oof, harsh", Robbie mocks,

Watching me walk away.

"Completely uninterested in your existence"

"No, man, she wants me", Charlie replied,

Unashamed of his delusion.

I finally make it inside and head straight for my locker. I take out the books I needed for my first class and shut it close.

"(Y/N)", I hear a familiar voice call out to me,

I turn and felt my heart drop to my stomach. I had a crush on Kirby Reed since I first moved here. From her blonde locks to her piercing eyes and rosy lips, it was next to impossible for me to think straight with her around.

I eventually snap out of my haze and look around to make sure she was actually speaking to me. I point to myself and she chuckles.

"Unless there's another (Y/N) I'm unaware of, then yes, I'm talking to you", she reassures,

I let out the breath I didn't realize I was holding and walk towards her.

"Hi"

"Hi", she greeted sweetly,

I smile nervously, pulling up the strap of my bag that was slipping off.

"What are you up to tonight?", she asks,

"Um, just studying. The calc quiz is coming up and I wanna make sure I ace it"

"Oh, pretty and smart. Good combo", she compliments,

Looking me up and down. I could feel my cheeks heat up at her comment.

"Thanks"

"Jill and I are having a party tonight and I was just wondering if you'd like to come"

I hesitate for a moment.

"Well-"

"But, if you're busy, I totally get it-"

"No!"

My suddeness catching her off-guard.

"I mean, I don't...have to study"

She raises her eyebrows at me.

"It's more of a refresher thing, but, I could always just skip it"

"Ooh, I like bad girls", she teases,

Was she trying to make me explode? Cause god-damn, she didn't need to try very hard.

"Sooo, I'll see you tonight? Eight thirty?"

"Yes", I replied,

Holding back a squeal that was fighting to escape me.

"Great. See you there", she bids farewell,

Walking off.

Did that actually just happen? Or did the crush I had on her for months finally start getting to me? Either way, I was definitely going to that party to find out.

~

The second school was over, I rushed home and immediately started getting ready. I showered, did my hair, make up and picked out an outfit that would definitely get her attention. I settled on a maroon bell sleeve top that perfectly showcased what it needed to, low waist jeans and converse.

Once I did a purse check, I head out and got in my car. I knew I got the right address, when I saw all the people hanging out on the front lawn. That and the loud music I could hear from the inside of my car.

Taking in one last deep breath, I parked and got out. With each step I took towards the house, my heart started beating faster and faster. The moment I opened the front door, I was instantly faced with a sea of people from school.

Being a freshman, I didn't know that many people yet, especially the seniors, who I was now surrounded by. I didn't particularly enjoy big crowds, so it came as no shock when I felt my anxiety kick it into high-gear. Maybe I should just go home-

"(Y/N)!"

Fuck, too late.

I carefully turn around and see Kirby nodding her head at me from the couch with Jill and Olivia.

"Come on", she says over the loud music,

I walk over to them and the three girls scoot over to make room for me.

"Glad you didn't skip out on me", she teased,

As I took a seat next to her.

"Of course not", I replied,

Shaking my head. She smiles and sips from her drink. All I could focus on were her lips and the way the wrapped around the cup. The same blush spreading across my face as before.

"You look really good", she says,

Dragging her eyes up and down my body, as I fought back a scream.

"You know, we've passed each other in the halls a bunch of times, but we've never actually spoken before...why?", she questioned,

It's not like I could've just admitted about being madly in love with her.

"I'm just naturally shy", I opt for the less embarrassing response,

"Well...you have no reason to be", she replied,

Raking her eyes up and down my frame once more, as I held back another scream that almost found its way out of me.

We spent the next hour just talking and stumbled upon our shared love for horror movies.

"Okay okay"

"Hm?"

"What the fuck is up that Chucky doll?", I ask,

Making Kirby almost spit her drink back out from laughing.

"Sorry!", I exclaimed,

Taking a napkin and wiping the corner of her mouth.

"It's okay, you're just really funny"

She looks back at me and it was only then did I realize just how close we had gotten. Inches barely keeping us apart.

"Boo! Get a room!", Olivia teased,

Causing us both to look over at them, whilst Jill burst out into laughter. Kirby shakes her head and turns her attention back to me.

"Ignore them"

I smile and discard of the used napkin.

"Well, I definitely need a refill, wanna come?", she questioned,

"Sure"

We navigate our way through the drunken crowd and found ourselves at the kitchen island.

"Want some?"

"Oh, I can't. I'm driving myself home"

That's when she pulls out a carton of fruit juice. I give her a confused look.

"You didn't think I'd be wasted, did you? Someone's gotta keep everyone in check. My parents would kill if me if anything happened to the house", she explained,

Pouring herself a new glass.

"Come on, indulge me", she jokingly challenged,

I grab one for myself and she did the same. I was now hyper-focused on her hands and the way they moved. It made my stomach flutter. I couldn't help, but chew nervously thinking about all the ways they could touch me, ruin me-

"(Y/N)?"

Her words ripping me out of my explicit thoughts.

"Sorry, what did you say?"

"You totally spaced just now. What were you thinking about?", she sets her cup down,

Leaning closer towards me.

"Nothing", I say,

She tilts her head, unconvinced. My heart was beating so loud, that it was all I could hear.

"Are you sure?", she pressed on,

Taking my hand in hers.

I couldn't hold it in any longer. From the way she was looking at me to her thumbs rubbing up and down the back of my hand, it all became too much too fast.

Not wanting to prolong the torture any longer, I lean in and finally press my lips against hers, just waiting to see if she would kiss me back. Any doubts that I had left disappeared the moment I felt her free hand grab my waist to pull me in closer. Our lips moving in perfect sync.

It was even better than I could've possibly imagined. It felt like everyone else around us disappeared and we were in our own little world.

Eventually, she pulls away, biting back a smile.

"Finally", she whispered,

Making me chuckle to myself.

"You have no idea how long I've been waiting for that", she admits,

Tucking a lose strand behind my ear. If she only knew. She takes a moment to scan the room, before looking back at me.

"Hopefully, I'm not being too forward, but...would you wanna go somewhere more private?"

I nod and she takes me by the hand, leading me up the stairs and towards her room.

The moment we step foot inside, she pins me to the door, using my body to shut it closed. We pick up right where we left off, only this time, our hands roam each other's bodies. I help her out of her jacket and she tugs at the bottom of my blouse, almost as if to ask for permission to take it off.

"Wait", I exhaled out of breath,

"Is everything alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. It's just..."

She gives me a worried expression.

"I've never...like..."

That's when it hit her.

"You're a virgin", she relaxes,

I nod shyly.

"We don't have to do anything, if you're not ready", she reassured,

"No, I am!", I say,

"I just have no idea what I'm doing", I confessed,

She cups my face.

"Do you want me to show you?"

I felt myself melting at how soft she was being with me.

"Yes...please", I pleaded,

"Okay", she smiles,

Continuing to kiss me. Her pace was now tender and slow, not that I was complaining.

I pull my shirt off over my head, leaving my top half completely exposed for her to see.

"God, you really are perfect", she praised,

As I grinned in excitement.

I unbutton my pants and drag it down my legs, along with the underwear I was wearing. I'd never felt more vulnerable than I did in that moment. My arms instinctively go to cover my body, but she stops them, before they had the chance.

"Don't do that", she says,

Gently moving my head to face her.

"You don't have to hide anything from me"

She kisses me and her hands leave my face, finding their way down the rest of my body. They settle on my bare chest, squeezing my mounds, as I quietly whine against her lips.

Kirby chuckling at how sensitive I was.

Eventually, her kisses trail down my cheeks, till they met the skin of my neck.

"So good for me", she mumbled,

Going lower and licking circles over my now hardened buds, as I sigh in satisfaction. She then made her way down my stomach, till she was on her knees, spreading my legs apart.

"Can I?", she questioned,

As her hungry eyes stared up at me in anticipation, to which I nod.

"I need to hear you say it", she whispers,

The things she did to me by simply just talking was more than enough to make me come undone right then and there.

"Yes", I answer,

Causing her to flash me another one of her signature smirks, before diving into me. Her lips wrapping around my pulsing bundle of nerves, as I gasp at the contact. She slides her fingers up and down my slit, spreading the mess she was making of me.

I could already feel my knees going weak.

"You taste so good", she praises.

Finally having had enough with the torturing, she gently slips her digits into me, pressing earnestly against where I needed her most . A surprised gasp fleeing out of me as a result.

Not wanting to risk hurting me, she started of slow and cautious. Treating me like like a fragile piece of glass that could be shattered even with the slightest touch.

"Y-You can go faster", I reassure,

Making her look up at me. Her eyes were filled with so much tenderness, that I couldn't help but fully surrender myself into her hands.

That was all she needed to hear.

She picks up the pace and began to go faster and faster, as my fingers intertwine themselves with her golden tresses. Each moan and whine only encouraging her to continue her ministrations.

It didn't take long for my knees to start buckling from how weak they were. Noticing how my legs were about to give out, Kirby pulls away, making me whine at the loss of her touch.

"Come here", she says,

Taking me to her vanity and sitting me down, before getting back to what she was doing. Eventually, my walls begin to tighten around her and she went harder and faster.

"K-Kirby"

"You're so close, baby. Do it for me", she whispers.

It was like a knot in the pit of my stomach just snapped apart, as a flood came rushing out of me and onto her welcoming tongue. I've had orgasms before, but...nothing like this. Maybe it was the fact it was someone else and not just myself or maybe she was just that good. Either way, I wasn't gonna complain.

I take a moment to catch my breath, while she swallows me down and wipes off the rest. Kirby then gets back on her feet and kisses me.

"You are the sweetest person ever...literally and metaphorically", she teases,

Making me giggle against her.

"Hey"

"Mm?"

"Feel free to say no, but...would you wanna try something else?"

"You mean like...return the favor?", I ask,

About to go down on my knees, when she stops me with chuckle.

"No, trust me...we have all the time in the world for that", she says,

"But for now, I was thinking..."

She takes my hand and led me to her closet. She slid the door to the side and dug through her clothes to find a box. Once she opened it up, a delicious chill ran up my spine from what I found, waiting inside.

"Is that-"

"Jill and Liv got it for me as a gag-gift for my birthday", she explained,

Taking the strap on out.

"But what they didn't know was that I would be putting it to good use"

I bite back a smile and look back up at her.

"Do you want this? Cause, if you aren't ready-"

"I am", I cut off,

"I trust you"

She grins and I eased any remaining doubts she might've had with a kiss.

"But...", I pull away,

"You're wearing too many clothes for my liking", I joked,

Making her laugh to herself.

I helped her out of the shirt, bra, jeans and thong she was wearing, before tossing the items of clothing into a pile in the corner.

She was breathtaking, almost...unreal. Every dip and curve on her body made my heart beat even faster than it had before.

"What?"

"Nothing, you're...beautiful, Kirby", I say nervously.

She smiles and takes my hand.

"That makes the two of us", she smiles,

Taking me to the bed and carefully laying me down.

"If at any point, you feel uncomfortable"

"I won't", I promised,

"But if you do, please let me know, okay? You're gonna feel pressure for the first few seconds"

"I know. I trust you"

"Okay", she says,

Leaning down to kiss me. As we did, she settles between my legs, before wrapping them around her waist and reaching down to grab the toy. Her free arm going under my back to scoop me up and pull me in closer.

She rubs up and down my slit and eventually pushes in slightly with her hips. The sensation making me tense up as a response.

"Don't do that", she whispers,

Soothing me with soft circles she would draw on the skin of my spine.

"It'll make it hurt", she warns,

"Deep slow breathes, baby"

I do as she says and finally relax in her grasp. She continues to push deeper into me and eventually found the sweet spot waiting for her. I let out a gasp and cling onto her for dear life.

"There she is", she praised.

She gives me a moment to adjust, burying her face in my neck and kissing the warmth of my skin, while mumbling sweet nothings into my ear.

Once I was ready for more, I let her know.

"Y-You can move", I whine.

She nods against me and slowly starts moving her hips back and forth. It was a feeling unlike any other, but it wasn't painful, like I thought it would be. It was actually quite the opposite.

Finally getting used to the feeling, I urged her to go faster by bucking my hips up.

"So needy", she teased,

Picking up the pace and thrusting into me faster and harder.

With the long-forgotten party carrying on outside, the desperate moans and sounds that escaped me were all disguised by the chaos from beyond the door, as the smell of sex filled the room.

As it was only my first time, it came as no surprise to me when my orgasm began to build up quicker than I wanted, which Kirby obviously noticed by how much harder she had to ram into me with how tight my walls were wrapping around the strap.

She hurriedly reaches down and rubs fast circles on my clit, only making me cry out even louder.

"So fucking cute like this. Let me have it, baby. Cum"

Those words were the last thing I heard, before I was thrusted over the edge and consumed by the warm embrace of my climax. I let go, screaming her name over and over like it was the only thing I knew how to.

She gently pulls out, as the new-found emptiness left me wincing.

"Shhh", she comforted,

Laying back down and pulling me onto her bare chest. We laid there for a moment, catching our breaths and using the sound of each other's heart beats to ground ourselves.

It wasn't an uncomfortable silence that took over.

It was the kind where there was so much more being said without words, than if there were. From how her fingers lightly traced my spine to the kisses she would press against my cheeks and the way she held me like I'd slip right out of her hands said more than any superficial post-sex conversation ever could.

"Think you could spend the night?"

"My parents are out of town, so I don't see why not. Why?", I asked,

"Well, it's pretty late and um...I wouldn't want my girlfriend to be home alone", she replied,

Causing my eyes to widen, as I sit up to look at her.

"What did you say?"

"I don't want you to be home alone?", she tried to play off,

"No no no no no, you called me something"

"Oh...you mean my girlfriend?", she admits,

"Well, don't you wanna be?"

"Yes!", I squeal,

Diving down and crashing my lips onto hers, as she laughs at my excitement.

"About time, don't you think? I mean, I've spent years obsessing over you", she smiles,

Tucking my hair behind my ear.

Unbeknownst to Kirby, the feeling was always mutual.

[goblinpuppy35]

Out of Place Together

University Remus x Male Reader

Part 1 - (Next Chapter)

Summary: An academia-core themed story about the Marauders during their final year of university in the Muggle world. Soon after meeting each other  Remus begins to fall for one of Sirius' friends Y/N another shy student.

TW: Minor mention of drug use

---------------------------

It's a cold clear night in February, the ink blue sky contrasts against the bright half moon illuminating the grey clouds moving along in the night. This was the view that Y/N observed as he leaned out of the bathroom window of the third story house he was in. Throbbing base music could be heard from the ground floor below which filled Y/N with dread. He had woefully dragged himself to this party despite knowing he wasn't going to have a good time, from fear his friends would stop inviting him to gatherings if he declined again. Y/N felt utterly out of place at parties and preferred the peaceful atmosphere of one on one conversations. While Y/N was debating how long he could stay in the bathroom before others began to notice, he heard a loud familiar voice from downstairs.

The flamboyant presents of his dear friend Sirius entering the party brought Y/N comfort as he made his way down the stairs. As soon as they both made eye contact Sirius knew his friend was not enjoying himself. "You look like your having a terrible time" Sirius smirked as he reached Y/N half way up the stairs. "What could possible given that away" Y/N replied sarcastically fidgeting with the paper cup full of water he had in his hand. Sirius laughed heartily and brushed his fingers through his thick black hair "come on, we're getting out of here!" before Y/N could protest Sirius had grabbed his wrist and began pulling him towards the front door. "Sirius! The fuck man your leaving. You literally just got here!" cried out a annoyed voice from the living room as they passed by. "Well you know what they say" Sirius chimed back "The best people always leave the party first because they have somewhere better to be" and with that both men stumbled out of the door and down the street.

Y/N had first met Sirius when they had originally been on the same course together. During first year Sirius had bounced around several courses before finally settling on Psychology, which Y/N had in fact suggested. Despite no longer being on the same course the two maintained a close friendship and Sirius was always coming to Y/N with student drama or stories of his nights out as they had a smoke behind the library. Y/N appreciated his friendship with Sirius because even though he was a beaming socialite he never forced Y/N to be the same and liked Y/N for the quiet person he was. Both men's boots echoed down the stone street as they approached the city centre. 

"Honestly I'm surprised you made it over an hour at that party in the first place" laughed Sirus as he linked his arm through Y/N's. "You and me both." mumbled Y/N "Where are we going anyway?". Swiftly Sirius turned the corner and they began to make there way towards a pub with big wooden doors and warm light glowing from the frosted windows. "My housemates are hanging out here tonight, figured you'd like a more chill scene. You've met them before right?". Inside the pub was warm and full of small groups of friends huddle around tables chatting and drinking, it was much easier to hear others and the lack of horrible house music made Y/N feel more at ease. They made their way to a corner booth were a couple was cosily chatting. Y/N had met Sirius housemate James and his girlfriend Lily several times and found them both great company. He found James' sheer confidence in admitting he only took philosophy because it was the same course Lily was taking both ridiculous and charming. Everyone was amazed he had not been kicked off the course yet considering he spent all his time playing rugby or hanging out in pubs with them, nevertheless every time an essay was due as if by magic, which James always said with a wink, he was able to produce a passing grade. 

The four of them spent an enjoyable hour catching up before Sirius' other housemate made an abrupt appearance. Y/N didn't know Peter as well as the others, to be honest he was a little put off by the short blonde. Peter was taking economics as far as Y/N could remember or possibly media studies, it was impossible to get a straight answer from him. Sirius and James insist that back in school Peter was your typical nerdy wimp but after they all came to university he started hanging out with the 'wrong crowd' as they put it. He spent most of his nights out and slept throughout the day as well as taking a far amount of drugs which Y/N assumed was the case now as Peter suddenly appeared 'back from the bathroom' with wide eyes and during the next hour of conversation he was sniffing and rubbing his nose repeatedly. Sirus and James said they did there best to keep an eye on him but Y/N could see the mild concern behind there eyes. Regardless the evening carried on joyously, time slipping by like silk. Before too long Y/N found himself swaying down the empty road with the group towards the boys shared house, Sirius insisted that he crashed on their sofa tonight instead of walking all the way across town to his own place. 

The house was filled with giggling and shushing as the all clumsy made their way through the door. James and Lily quickly took themselves off to bed and Y/N made his way to the dark living room as Sirus fumbled around trying to find some blankets. Flopping on the sofa Y/N was met with a significantly more rigid and hard impact then he was expecting. The sofa was littered with books which he rather unceremoniously pushed off into the floor, "Oh yeah sorry about that, those are all Remus' " Sirius called out from the hallway. "Oh yeah .. your other other housemate" Y/N sighed as he began to curl up like a cat on the now book free sofa. He had actually never met Sirius' other other housemate, just heard his name in passing, but in his current state this thought didn't weigh his mind long. Gliding in with several blankets hanging off his shoulders like a cape Sirius then billowed them up into the air before letting them settle over Y/N's body, "You sleep well buddy" Sirius began to walk out of the room and then Y/N's arms shot out of the pile of blankets to hold his hand tightly "Thank you for taking me out tonight, I really appreciated it" Y/N said softly as he was falling asleep. Sirius smiled over his friend and gently squeezed his hand "Anytime Y/N. Sleep well, I'll see you in the morning".

As the sun rose the next day Y/N woke up with a shiver. Classic student house without heating. Feeling around in the floor and he found his socks and fleece which he promptly put back on before snuggling deep into the pile of blankets wrapped around him. They had forgotten to close the curtains the night before resulting in the room now flooding with light. It was unlikely for Y/N to be able to fall asleep again so he started to look around the now fully visible room. The typical staples of a student accommodation lay before him; a mismatch collection of film and band posters pinned to the wall, window seals with several half full bottles of varying spirits and what Y/N assumed to be James's and Lily's bikes prompt up behind the other sofa. Looking at the floor Y/N was taken back by the volume of books piled everywhere, considerably more then he had noticed the night before. Leaning down he was able to read a number of titles he himself had read; The Illiad, Dante's Inferno, Othello, Wuthering Heights. Whoever these belong to has excellent taste thought Y/N.

 His investigation was cut short as he heard the sound of foot steps and clanging from the kitchen. Assuming either James or Sirus was up and about Y/N stretched, rising from the sofa and carefully making his way to the door without knocking over the miniature city skyline of books around him. Entering the kitchen Y/N was taken aback by a tall figure he did not recognise. The tall man was arched over the gas stove heating up the kettle, he wore a large oversized knitted jumper and bagging pajamas bottoms with knitted socks tucked into them. He had messy brown hair which dropped over his forehead and a mustache which he was pulling one corner of as he adjusted the temperature of the stove. Y/N gazed at him silently for a moment before forcing out an awkward "hello". The tall man turned his head around, a confused expressions left his face quickly as he gave a polite smile. Y/N could not help but drink in his deep blue eyes, 'fuck' he thought to himself 'this guy is incredibly handsome'. 'Hi' said the incredibly handsome man 'Your Sirius' friend right' he asked as he returned his attention back to the kettle. 'Umm yeah, I'm Y/N. I just crashed on the sofa last night after we went out' Y/N gingerly wondered to the shelf and pick up a mug with the intention to fill it with water. "Sirius should have said something, I would have moved all my books out of the way".  Upon saying this Y/N then becomes aware the towering man had a paperback also tucked into his pajama pocket, "All of those are yours?". "Hmm yeah well it's an occupational hazard which comes with being a English literature student" he said turning around slightly grinning. His smile felt completely sincere and kind and Y/N couldn't help but weakly smile back. "Impressive, I've read a good number of the ones I was able to see" Y/N leaned against the kitchen counter, oddly feeling both nervous and at ease in his strangers presents. "Well it's nice to finally meet someone with good taste" he said playfully looking down at Y/N. Their eyes stayed locked for a few seconds before a loud yarn could be heard coming through the kitchen doorway. A tired and dishevelled Sirius waddled in stretching and cracking his back as he did "Good morning, good morning. you sleep well Y/N?". "Hi pads" the other guy said briefly as he returned his attention to the now whistling kettle. Y/N placed his mug on the counter as Sirus came in to give him a big sleepy hug "Are you still going to keep your promise and taken me into town before you help me with studying?". "Only if you promise to read the whole chapter of cognitive behaviour for your class tomorrow!" Y/N chuckled as he ruffled his friends long hair. "Fine!" cries Sirius after a long groan "Come on let's get going then". "I need a cup of tea first but after that sure", Y/N folded his arms and laughed softly as he watched his dear friend lean into the fridge and start chugging some apple juice from the carton. "Well I'll see you guys later" called out a voice from the hall, turning around Y/N just caught a glimpse of the tall stranger disappearing into the hallway. "See you later Remus" Sirius called out in-between gulps of juice. Y/N's eyes then became aware of the rising steam which when looking down he saw was coming from the cup he has placed on the counter. Now full of hot water ready for him to place his tea bag in, he looked back up at the empty hallway. "So. That's Remus".

[schlattsdoll]

fuckboi chapter one: in love with the morning light

minors dni

pairing: fratboy! jschlatt x fem!reader

warnings: drinking mentions, nicknames {pipsqueak} enemies to lovers,

notes: based on an actual mixer i went too yay!

word count:

it was another mundane day at the local college, sorority girls chatting away about what fraternities’ parties they planned on going too, football players talking about the upcoming game, and then there’s you. stuck in the middle with your small group of friends discussing party themes. charlie and ted, brothers of kappa beta, but you couldn’t forget their president, johnathan schlatt. the only member of the small kappa crew you didn’t like. he was attractive, sure, but he knew it, which made him all the more arrogant. all the girls fawned over him, instantly dumbing themselves down for a chance to go home with him. not you though, you saw through his façade and saw him for what he really was; an absolute fuckboy.

he sits down at your table in the common area, next to his vice president. "what's up pipsqueak?" jay addresses you as he pops a chip from ted's bag into his mouth. you groan at the nickname, rolling your eyes at the larger man. a signature smirk finds its way across his face while a hand runs through his chestnut locks, he continues to say something about that weekend's party theme, a KB- well any frat really- classic one at that, "beer olympics man! we haven't had a proper one in so long. c'mon everyone'll love it." ted nods in agreement, "schlatt has a point, it's a great classic theme for a reason, but how many other frats are gonna do that this week?" you chime in with a "make it more fun, make it so you pick partners out of a hat, then you're tied together all night. like literally, have string connecting people at the hip." "y/n, this is why we keep you around!" charlie smiled, rushing to make the flyer for saturday. "who knows, maybe she'll actual meet someone." schlatt chuckled as he drank his soda, leading to a swift kick from under the table from you. "i have class see you guys later." and you ran off to your next class.

you weren't in a sorority, and didn't go out much aside from when ted and charlie begged you to go to a party as it's winding down, or your roommate for that matter too. roxanne, or roxy as she liked to be called, had been your partner in crime since freshman year, and your sole confidant, telling her things not even ted and charlie know. she was a true friend, who pushed you to come out of your shell.

texting her about the party and what schlatt said to you, she quickly responded "i know you hate 'em but jay has a point. you might meet someone if you go when people are actually there." you hated to even hear the name "jay" and "right in the same sentence, but sadly he was, and so was roxy. deciding to put yourself out there, you texted her saying "i hate that you’re right. i'm texting teddy that we're going."

saturday night rolled around, you and roxy getting ready for the big night. she curls her hair while you style yours to perfection, thankful it’s cooperating with you. maybe tonight won’t be such a disaster after all, you think to yourself. as you two dig through your respective closets trying to find appropriate outfits for a frat party, you land on a black cropped cami, a pair of mom jeans and some beat up sneakers you didn’t mind getting dirty. “oh wait let’s match! so if we get paired together we look cute.” roxy said, grabbing the same top as you but in white.

as you made your way to the KB house, your stomach turned. you didn’t go out to large parties very much, and really the only people you knew were ted, charlie and roxy and schlatt unfortunately. you secretly hoped that roxy would be with ted so she can get over her crush on him, but also you wanted a chance to hang out more with your best friend in his natural habitat. walking up to the door, charlie is outside setting up a pong table. “hey! y/n, roxy, good to see you guys finally out!” he smiles kindly and hugs you both, then opens the door for you two. inside you’re greeted by a sea of people you don’t recognize. maybe not a sea, more like a large lake, but still your anxiety shot up.

ted is standing at the door, unattached from his partner who ran off with another brother. “ladies, pick your fate tonight!” he tells you with his usual dramatic flair. roxy pulls out the name and you see a j and hope it’s schlatt, but no, it was jack. “jack is uh, a little busy with kerri, my partner right now. i don’t mind taking his place roxy.” he offers to her. he presents a bit of string and ties it to the belt loop of her jeans. “i hope you’re good at pong.” roxy smiles back and secures herself to ted.

you unravel your paper and see a j as well. as you unfold more of it you see a longer name, oh no.

johnathan.

schlatt approaches you and smirks, that signature smirk you wanna slap right off his face.

“guess you’re stuck with me pipsqueak.” he ties himself to your waist. “gotta say, i’m shocked you came out tonight. don’t worry we’ll have fun.” he winked at you as you got ready for the worst night of your life.

oh how wrong you’d be.

[emmyrosee]

FOR YOUR EVENT!!!! I'M SO EXCITED YAYAYAYYYYY

okokok so from the lists, could I haveeee

29. giggling while kissing (from the kisses prompt list)

and from the dialogue list let's do...

136. did you enjoy yourself last night?

111. delete it. now.

(and i'm not sure if you wanted me to include a character or not, but either way i trust your judgement!! congrats again <33333)

*screams and kicks and cries about how much I love this* also went with Tsumu bc. Like. He’s my husband 🧡

tw!! suggestive content for comedic purposes. Nothing is done, but the verbiage is definitely suggestive!! Also tw hangover, drinking is mentioned.

—

You woke up with a pounding headache.

It wasn’t like you had more than a few glasses of wine, but you knew when Inarizaki had reunions, no one was safe from the party; even Shinsuke, who goes to bed at 9:30 because he’s a man of absolutely uncontrollable patterns.

Unfortunately, for you, Inarizaki reunions meant Suna Rintaro was there, and you were determined to drink him under the table any chance you got. He’s a great friend, been yours for years, but screw him and his stupid cocky self that you’ve got to set into place every few months.

Pounding headaches and blurry nights were definitely a price, but at the end of it all, it’s definitely an event you wouldn’t pass up for the world.

Even as your entire being feels like it’s covered in bricks.

“Morning, my baby,” the sweet, yet somehow still cocky voice of your boyfriend croons into your ear. His warm breath spans over your cheek, and you whine and cover your head with the pillow.

“Your breath reeks,” you grumble, desperate to ignore his snickers. “Can you give me fourteen seconds before you’re the bane of my existence?”

“I’m sure I can,” he teases, and god he’s lucky he’s so cute because the smirk in his voice makes you want to whack him with a pillow. “I’m not gonna, but I can.”

“You’re such a disappointment,” you snip, and that’s prompted with a soft kiss against your aching temple. That, finally, does have you melting, and you whimper softly before turning your head to bury into his chest. He holds you lovingly, letting you settle against him. “No wonder ‘Samu’s the favorite child.”

“‘Samu’s the favorite because of pity,” he says simply, and you giggle in his chest dopily. From his chest, you hear his outer arm paw for his phone on the bedside table, and you mewl once the comforting weight settles back against your shoulders.

“So,” he says, nosing at your hairline. “Did you enjoy yourself last night?”

“So much,” you say, voice warbled from the way your lips are smooshed against his chest. “Too much.”

“I know,” he teases, and once again, you want to smack the smirk off his face with the pillow. “You were definitely the life of the party last night. Off your rocker completely.”

“Hm?”

He pauses, and you feel a certain queasiness settle in your heart.

“Definitely had me in surprise. Thought Osamu was gonna have a stroke. Definitely glad Sunarin caught it on video, otherwise you may not believe me.”

Fuck. What did you do?

“Please, whatever it is, be nice about it,” you beg, now hiding your face from him not to be comfortable, but to hide your embarrassment.

“Don’t worry, I’m not mad about it,” he assures.

Why would he be mad about whatever it was?

Then, from his phone, you hear your voice in a drunken stupor, wailing on and on about how much you love Atsumu, and you’re blessed to have him and how definitely some unsavory things that absolutely should not have been said aloud, in public.

But nothing that would cause such a strange reaction; Sunarin was always known to catch you at your worst, even if it is flirting with-

“Yer damned boyfriend is gonna come out here and kick my ass if you don’t stop.”

“Yeah, and I’m gonna film the whole thing,” Suna snorts from behind the camera.

“I wanna lick your abs.”

“ATSUMU!”

Osamu.

You were flirting with Osamu, thinking he was Atsumu.

Instantly, immediately, your eyes fly open and you scramble as far as you can away from your blonde boyfriend, eyes wide as saucers while he cackles at your expense. Your chest heaves and you feel bile rushing up your throat, horrified for the trauma you probably caused the other twin.

“You are sooo into me,” he wheezes, pointing and laughing at you.

“Fuck you, this isn’t funny!” You wail, burying your face in your hands. “Oh, my god, your teammates must think I’m fucking feral! I’ll never be able to show my face again! Fuck!” Your voice, snow hiked in a snarl, growls out a sharp “delete it. Now.” from behind your palms.

He snickers and you feel the bed weight shift, and there’s a comforting warmth that settles against you as he plops next to you.

“You’re makin’ a mountain out of a molehill,” he says sweetly, as if that’s supposed to help. “You got a little plastered and mistook me for the lesser twin is all.”

“‘Is all,’” You whimper. He tosses an arm around your shoulder and you hide your face in his bicep. “I practically cheat on you and you say ‘is all.’”

“Hard to be mad at you when you moan my name at my twin.”

“Shut up!”

“Talkin’ about how you wanna lick my abs,” he starts to plant kisses on your head, the quick action making you squeal softly. “You want me to toss you on the counter, ride my thigh, suck my toes-“

“Fuck you, I did not say that!” You groan, but this time it’s shrouded in laughter.

“I have 4 friends and 1 scarred Kita-San who will confirm that.” He beams at your laughter, now moving his kisses to peck along your cheek, and you shove at him gently at the tickly feeling. “How you love me soooo much, how sexy I am and how bad you are for me-“

“I get it!” You giggle. You turn your head up to nudge his teasy lips away, but instead he captures your own in a kiss, the rapid, repeated pecks now on your laughing lips. His long arm wraps around your shoulders and gently angles your jawline to keep you as subjected to his affections as possible.

“How you’d do anything for me, with me, how everyone else is so jealous that they’re not me- which is true, but I was surprised to hear you say it.”

“You’re so embarrassing!”

“You looove me.”

“Unfortunately I do- no!”

Slender fingers curl at your jawline and neck, tickling you back into submission, all the while kissing the laughter from your mouth once again.

“Shut up. You’re in no position to be a brat right now.”

“Stop being mean!” You whine around your laughter.

He cocks a brow before leaning down to your writhing head, once again holding it steady as he stops tickling with the same hand.

“I’ll show you mean, babydoll.”

[bengiyo]

Ossan's Love Returns Ep 9 (Finale) Stray Thoughts

Last week, everyone sensed that something was up with Kurosawa, and so the squad rallied to host a home party to cheer him up. Kurosawa spent much of the episode working on saying goodbye, and even left instructions for Maki with some household tips before teaching him how to make his version of miso soup. He left goodbye videos that completely destroyed me, and his final scene in the park with Haruta brought me back to the In the Sky goodbye in ways I was not ready for. I don't want to mourn him, but I feel like I already am.

I can't drink those smoothies that just taste like grass.

NOT THIS GOOFY ASS MAN MISHEARING THE DOCTOR AND JUST WALKING OUT OF THE HOSPITAL!!

He kicked the doctor!!!

All this drama over red food!?!

Oh lord his home sold. Where is he going to go??

I hope the entire cast comes to visit him a little bit at a time. This is great.

"Give me back my tears, geezer!" Yes, Maki! Fight him again!!!

I'm with Haruta. I think about my parents getting older. I've been making slow preparations for the future.

Good job, Chizu. I'm glad you're still here to keep Haruta from spinning out.

Oh, thank you for the shower scene. Tanaka Kei has a great body.

Natflax real estate???? I'm gonna lose it.

This recruiter looks familiar. I'm going to need to look them up later.

STYLER JIBS!!!!!!!!!

Oh no Haruta is having nightmares now.

Whoa, is that Tabasco hot sauce???

I really do love the way Kurosawa and Maki moments have evolved over time.

I love that the whole crew is here for a surprise party, and glad Kurosawa is back to tormenting Maki.

Haruta bursting into tears whenever he feels too much love is one of my favorite things about him. He always appreciates every earnest gesture from Maki.

This is beautiful. I would love to be surrounded by all the people I love telling me all the things I did that made them feel supported and appreciated.

Takegawa got a cat! That feels so correct.

This whole sequence is incredible. It's an ongoing group hug, a party, and a talent show.

Maika is always eavesdropping and she is correct. Not all queer relationships need names that fit neatly into other expectations.

It does feel like a family photo. I have quite a few with my wider digital families.

Wow, the cherry blossoms scene was beautiful. I really appreciate how explicit this season has been about the complex nature of family and that finding community and joy in it is possible in any number of configurations.

Maro is such a dude I love him. He would absolutely get into a fandom just to be closer to his mom and wife.

Kiku and Izumi made it! Can't believe that they've grown on me a little bit.

Teppei, Chizu, and Maika having dinner with their kids as Teppei sings another song is perfect for them.

Maki stay trying to slam the door on Kurosawa.

Another almost brawl!!

"WE ARE FAMILY!!" I got all my sisters with me!! Okay, I cried.

Final Verdict: 9, Highly Recommended. I think, even if you bounced off or didn't watch Ossan's Love (2018), you should absolutely check this show out. There's so much to be had in this show about adults navigating what they want for their lives as they try to take care of the people they love. Maki and Haruta figuring out what their romance is going to Iook like when it's not just an idea landed so well for me. I like that Maki is still able to be a little bit terse or reserved, but he's finally able to say clearly to Haruta how important he is to him and he's also better able to be around others. Izumi is right that Haruta is this beacon of love that others seem inevitably drawn to. Kurosawa is such a huge presence, and he reminds me of some of my favorite gay elders. I hope to be as powerful and loved as him when I get older. I'm so glad I went back and watched Ossan's Love properly. I can't believe I denied myself this incredible experience for years.