#id have to go look a little bit to find it though

[aisiedaisie]

Heyo!

I noticed you take asks, but after lurking for a bit, I saw you haven’t done any yet. No worries if you’re not ready! But do you write _ x reader? Because I was thinking it’d be a super cute idea if the reader has a crush on their TA, who happens to be one of the Marauders, in the most boring class ever.

Oh, and if you haven’t had any designated anons yet, can I be ☁️?

Hello hello~ !

I do take asks!!! This is actually the first ask I’ve received and I am so happy. Thank you for sending it in and of course you can be my ☁️ anon! As for _ x reader fics… I’ve actually never written a reader fic before but I’ve tried my best! I think it leaned more gender neutral more than female reader, but I hope its okay.

Also, as someone who normally writes in third person, second person is difficult!!!

TA! Sirius Black x GN! Reader WC: 1.1k

You can’t remember why you signed up for this class. Maybe you thought it would be easy? Or even interesting…

But no.

The only thing remotely worth your time is the observation lab every Friday. The rest? Well, that’s just a blur of uncomfortable lectures, ticking clocks, and the distant hum of other students’ barely contained frustration.

No one would expect you to have perfect attendance. Most of the class doesn't even bother showing up, since attendance isn’t mandatory. They only show for tests, and even then, some skip those. You can’t help but wonder if they dropped the class, or if they just don’t care anymore.

Unfortunately— or, depending on your perspective, fortunately— something other than the lecture has caught your attention. You can’t help but quietly admire the TA at the front of the room, his presence oddly magnetic amidst the dull hum of the class.

Sirius Black is as punctual as you—if not more. He’s always there before anyone else, scanning IDs with a detached efficiency as students shuffle past. Then he settles into the front row, laptop open, his fingers dancing over the keys. He posts notes on Canvas for the absentees, though you suspect it’s more out of routine than necessity, since the lectures are always recorded and uploaded that evening.

He doesn’t seem like the type who’d voluntarily spend his free time sitting through intro-level astronomy lectures. With his shoulder-length, wavy dark hair—often loosely pulled into a half-bun—and his signature worn black leather jacket, he looks more like someone who should be out of a 50s film than a lecture hall. His casual blue jeans and plain white T-shirt complete the look, giving him a James Dean vibe that seems a little too effortless, a little too cool for this room.

You try to refocus, your eyes drifting back to the lecture. Professor Fancourt’s voice drones on in a monotonous lull, and he scribbles another formula on the whiteboard. “With this equation, please find the orbital velocity of Neptune,” he instructs, his back turned as he walks toward the desk by the door where Sirius is absorbed in his typing.

You glance back at the formula, but it might as well be a foreign language.

You’ve never been good at math, and when you signed up for Basic Astronomy, you didn’t think it would be an all-out battle of numbers. You thought you’d be learning about planets, maybe some stars, a little science history. But math? Why did they have to throw that in?

A knot tightens in your stomach as Professor Fancourt starts pacing. You know what’s coming. It’s only a matter of time before he picks someone—randomly, of course—to come up to the whiteboard and answer the question. You have no idea what’s going on with that equation, but you’re pretty sure it’s going to be you.

You don’t want to be called on. Not today.

With a resigned sigh, you gather your things, leaving your notebook open on the desk. A quick break—just enough to clear your head.

You make your way to the TA’s desk. Sirius looks up as you approach, his brow quirking in mild surprise.

“Look at that—someone’s actually moving from their desk,” he teases, and you manage a tired, half-hearted smile, nodding in acknowledgment.

“Just need a break,” you mutter, pulling your ID from your pocket and handing it to him.

He scans it without a word, his fingers drumming absentmindedly on the scanner. “If you’re grabbing something, make it quick,” he says, his voice laced with a playful chuckle. “And don’t forget—bring me something back, yeah?” He adds a wink for good measure, making the suggestion feel almost like a dare.

You step out into the hallway, the noise of the lecture hall fading behind you. For a moment, the weight of the class lifts from your shoulders, and you allow yourself to relax. You focus on the vending machine in front of you, half-stalling, half-actually needing something to take your mind off the dull lecture and the growing pressure of the equation you still can’t wrap your head around.

You scan the rows of snacks—chips, candy bars, granola. You grab the chocolate bar you always go for when you need something quick. You buy it, but as you clutch the candy and step away from the machine, you remember Sirius’ words, his playful tone still echoing in your mind. “And don’t forget—bring me something back, yeah?”

You pause, eyeing your snack. An impulse hits you, and you decide to grab a pack of sour gummies from the row below. It’s different from what you’d normally get, but you figure it’s a safe bet. Plus, you’d hate to go back empty-handed after he asked, even if he was joking.

With both snacks in hand, you head back into the lecture hall. The familiar hum of the room greets you, but this time it feels different. The pressure in your chest has lifted, replaced with an unexpected calm. You’re grateful to find the professor already discussing the next topic when you return.

You make your way to your seat, but before you sit down, you glance toward the front of the room. Sirius is still hunched over his laptop, typing with the same detached concentration as always. His attention is on the screen, but when he hears you approach, he looks up just in time to catch your eye.

You raise the pack of sour gummies slightly, as if to confirm you heard him. “Brought you something.”

His eyebrow quirks in surprise, but the smirk that follows is unmistakable. He leans back in his chair, crossing his arms with a quiet chuckle. “Well, I’ll be damned. You actually came through.” His gaze flickers between the gummies and your face, and you can’t help but feel a little self-conscious under his attention.

“They’re for you,” you say, offering him the pack. “Hope you like them.”

Sirius grins, his fingers brushing against yours for a brief moment as he takes the gummies. “Thanks. This’ll make the rest of this lecture bearable,” he says with a wink. “Thanks, love.”

You smile, a little shy, your cheeks flushing at the nickname. You return to your seat as he rips open the pack, popping a gummy in his mouth. The subtle exchange is enough to keep your mind from wandering back to the looming equation on the board.

The rest of the class goes by in a blur.

Professor Fancourt drones on as usual, but you don’t mind so much now. For once, you actually feel... lighter. Sirius hasn’t left his post at the front of the room, but every so often, you catch him glancing back at you with a quiet grin, as if he knows exactly how much of an effect he’s having on you. It turns your cheeks even darker, and your eyes quickly dart away when you make eye contact.

By the time the class ends, you’re no longer dreading the idea of coming back next week. In fact, you might even look forward to it a little, and not just because of the observation lab on Friday.

[uygfiug]

slept like 5 hours, so i apologize in advance for any possible incoherence :)

heh yeah, i always thought of them like little shoulder devils/angels that keep trying to make me engage in the interest :)

not really, i love all of them equally <3 but it's a pretty new interest so that may change as i learn more :) as for how i engage with special interests: i regularly go far walks in the forest looking for bugs, and i really enjoy reading about them (when i have the energy) i also own a butterfly shirt, and i'm planning to look for/make a lot more hug/holmes related clothes :)

So i guess i mostly like experiencing the thing, like looking at bugs in the forest or rereading holmes stories, and then i also really enjoy gathering information and explaining it to myself as i pace my room :) and i always love to put things i like into the way i dress

Hiya <3

How are ya doing? good, i hope :)

You've made me curious, what was the Holmes crossword thingy?

hi anna!!!! <333

i am tired but doing good :))) how about you?

the crossword clue was "fictional sleuth who lives on baker street" (which is relatively easy, imo). there weren't enough letters in the column to fit "sherlock" so it had to be "holmes"

but as soon as i saw it my brain just went !!!!!!!!!!!!!!! sherlock!!!!!!!!!!

[the-best-bagel]

free roaming outdoor dogs a la cats are not a good idea and are just asking for injuries and conflict but unfortunately i've only ever had great experiences growing up in a neighborhood with a handful of those dogs and i miss themmmmm

[3cosmicfrogs]

I wanted to go a bit more in-depth with this piece that I did for zukka week 2023 because i got inspired to do more insane clothing details. ID in ALT.

Ramble about the influences/inspirations below:

Design inspirations for Sokka's clothing are mainly Inuvialuit and Yup'ik, with Nenets, Tlingit, and Chukchi inspiration for the tassels, patterns, belt and beadwork. I mixed these with the ornaments canon shows us used by the Northern Water Tribe, and also in Legend of Korra. I got particularly excited about drawing from Inuvialuit sources since the tassels we see in canon look like they could be inspired by this. Going beyond canon's animation-friendly colour scheme, I drew from Nenets patterns/embroidery/sashes and Yup'ik beadwork for accent colours. I think in the future I'd like to find ways to incorporate more Tlingit-style patterns since I rarely see them in fanart (which is a shame - they're stunning), but since they tend to be very big I ultimately decided to only include them as a nod in order to keep the regalia recognisable as 'Water Tribe'. I wonder if I could start using Polynesian influences as well?

Zuko's headdress and particularly the shoulder garment and beaded embroidery draw heavily from women's clothing styles of Lê Dynasty Vietnam. The other main influence is men's royal clothing in Tang Dynasty China, and patterns worn by Mongolian Khatun. Since we have a bit more to go on in canon as to what fire nation regalia looks like, I blended that in as well. I got particularly excited about the embellishments on Lê Dynasty clothes because I could give a little nod to Zuko's dragon-fire by adding more colours to the embroidery. In the future I think I'd want to make the Mongolian influence a bit more obvious... perhaps even push the envelope by incorporating some Bashkir designs, though I'm not sure how well that will go.

[lifeonmarz-blog]

Pluto through the houses: Synastry

1st: Both people have a way of prying under the skin of the other bringing all the insecurities they thought were hidden to the light. It can be almost jarring and abrasive. Even though its not intentional they pick up on it so naturally they probably didnt even know they hit a wound. This relationship may come about at a time when your self image and public persona is going through a change. Lying about that image can also be an issue here. Lying to protect how the other views your life. A lot of glamorization and intentional avoidant of details. These two can be mesmerized by the persona of each other. Pluto person is almost thirsty for the attention of house person. House person likes the attention but is much more nonchalant about it maybe even a little scared of plutos intensity. Their upbringing emotionally is similar but may not seem similar in the physical aspect of it. People could look at this couple as an odd pairing. It can seem taboo for one or both of them. You can tell that they were attracted to the darker aspect of each other. Its pluto so you know the power dynamics are being tested, pluto person is controlling over the house person. Sometimes that could be to extreme extents. They want their full undivided attention always. If pluto person releases their grasp this can be a very powerful magnetic couple. Manifesting with ease through how others view them together.

2nd: Pluto person ''levels'' house person up, this could be financially or with plutos image but essentially both people add to each others persona. The flow is more natural if the woman or more feminine person is the house person. Wishful thinking could be a problem here because this is actually a very romantic placement. The way love is expressed if very comforting and ideal for both people. Theres a mutual taste in the type things you enjoy so it becomes easy to believe you might not get this somewhere else. The dates are very fun and the couple loves to show each other off. This is one of the easiest houses to create abundance in as a couple. Balancing work and love is an obstacle, if both parties aren't equally as committed to setting aside time together. It can easily become a situation were someone feels neglected. It takes a certain amount of emotional detachment to have a long lasting relationship with this placement. Id say this is a more subtle place for pluto to be it isnt as harsh as some of the others.

3rd: Challenging each others views is almost second nature. Both help each other think outside the box. Their perspectives usually differ quite a bit so it makes for interesting conversation. Pluto person redefines how house person approaches business and relationship matters, offering constructive criticism that the house person usually appreciates. This placement can be nice for an entrepreneur and their partner. Pluto person sees house persons gifts and wants to help refine it. House person teaches pluto person new ways of achieving goals. Too much focus could be on career matters and the relationship could be on and off one or both parties could make excuses for why the communication isn't consistent. One person can try harder to keep the relationship together the other avoiding emotional intimacy. When things are smooth they view each other as the ideal partner then the communication waivers again. Pluto person encourages house person to come out of their shell. If you have any fears about expressing yourself without guilt or shame. In its positive this relationship will help you feel comfortable being yourself without judgement.

4th: Pluto person reminds house person of family member usually a parent. For better or worse. These two came together to unlock something in each others DNA, realizing something about their worth or finding a new sense of gratitude. They mesh well into each other, operating like they've been together for years even if they just met. This connection could've been established through insecurities or for financial benefit. There could be insecurities around how much more money one person makes over the other or secretly competing with each other. This relationship could demand a lot of time and attention being distracting to the career of one or both parties. Or on the flip slide someone can feel unseen and lonely falling to the backside because of the career of the other. Emotionally there's a feeling of being unfulfilled like something is missing. House person views the pluto person as their ideal, perfect match even, The childhood of these two was similar. They share similar wounds around the upbringing. Others may look at this couple and think why are they together? They don't care how people view them they have an understanding between each other. They view each other as someone they would want to have a family with. They are very giving towards each other the energy balances well they know the unspoken things that would make you smile. They fit well into each others families. This person can feel like your calm space, enjoying spending time together at home.

5th: They both love children and can want to have a family together. If they have pets they treat each others pets like their own. They see the beauty in each other and want show their partner off to the world. They introduce each other to a lot of new people blending into each others friends group really well. Power struggles can create tension because they could feel like the other person plots on how to have power over the relationship.Pluto person has a lot of control over the emotions of house person. House person may try to play it cool but pluto has a hold of them. Pluto person wants to lead the relationship but house person may not be okay with that. Public arguments could be familiar to them. It doesn't even have to be an argument but people can tell when they aren't on the same page. They can try to make each other jealous when there out together. Its exciting to see each other worked up. House person could want more public affection so the jealously feels reassuring. This connection could've started at some sort of get together or the first few times they were around each other there were other people present. They could embarrass each other in public flirting with someone in public in the lower natures. This connection feels very familiar to both people. They could feel like siblings not in weird way lol but just the way they were raised and how they think, its very similar to each other. They have alot of fun together. It takes both people back to childhood. This could've started as just friends then turned into something more.

6th: Friends to lovers type of vibe. This match could've been unsuspecting. Knowing each other for a while but just now deciding to give love a go. Theres a lightheartedness about this connection. Both people are just seeing where it goes without pressure or expectations. No expectations may not be the best thing though, it may keep these two in a cycle of unknowing. They can feel like they manifested each other but question if their ready for what they asked for. Self worth issues play a big role here. Theres changes that need to be made internally to make this connection work but one or both people are reluctant to change. Holding onto the past wounds from relationships. Making the assumption that everyone is the same. The energy in this connection can be unbalanced. Someone feels they aren't good enough for the other or thats implied by the other person. Routine are a topic of conversation, they could feel insecure about how they spend free time and feel the need to lie about what they actually do or feel uncomfortable about always doing the same things. On the flip side they can give each other better physical and mental habits, showing more efficient ways to get things done. Living a more healthy lifestyle and thinking more positive. They love spending the morning together getting ready together. The type to make sure you've ate and check in just to see how your doing. They show love by being reliable. This is the type of couple that would discuss what their gonna wear so their outfits are similar. They could have a busy schedule and have to plan time together. Meeting up could always feel so exciting because of the timing factor. Teaching each other how to be honest about your needs and expectations could be hard but pluto is in the 6th house for a reason.

7th: Pluto person wants to show house person off to everyone. They feel like they really got a catch and wants everyone to see how special house person is their very proud to be with them. They want to invest in each other, bossing up each others aesthetic and or finances. In the lower octave the masculine energy fears the feminine is attracted to them mostly because of the money or gifts. The masculine can have insecurities around their worth so they lead with money but then still feel unloved because they led with materials. Both people couldve came into the relationship with insecurities about the physical body they make each other feel confident and dissolve the previous thoughts. They want the same things in life, sharing the same values. Be aware of the promises you make not getting carried away in excitement and not being able to uphold it. Or vise versa the actions are more important than the words. They could've meet on social media or in a work setting. Theirs interest around what each other do for work. Something about the career is attractive to the other. They bounce ideas off each other and help further their career advancement. Maybe even working together. They don't mind putting pressure on each other to maintain a level of structure and refinement. They watch your social media pages fantasizing about the two of you together. Also something about the way this person dresses you either love or you just want to dress them yourself.

8th: At first they could've found it hard to completely give into this connection and avoid true intimacy. Serious commitment is important for them they aren't into flings, they do things with a purpose. They view the relationship from a practical standpoint and analyze how this will contribute to their lives and how much they are willing to give to make it work. When the bond is proven to be strong they want to share their resources. They can give too much though then build resentments about not feeling the energy is being reciprocated. A lot goes unsaid, trust issues and resentments are lurking in the shadows. On the stingier side pluto person doesn't want to share their success with house person or they want house person to jump through hoops for it. They love sharing information with each other. This couple can be a mystery to others. They dont share much about their relationship preferring to keep things private. They notice the friends their partner has that dont have their best interest at heart. Self esteem and codependency issues could show face. The arguments they have are intense. Triggering unspoken insecurities in each other. This relationship builds the confidence of each person. Your a safe space for each other without judgement. On the flip side its important to focus on your own identity and not get to caught up in what your partner thinks. Change because thats what you want to do. Learning to relax and go with flow will do this couple well. Except that everything cant be planned and controlled. This placement creates a solid foundation for a long lasting relationship.

9th: These two share a lot of experiences together. They've been a lot of places together, been seen in a lot of rooms together, everyone knows that these two are together. People cant take their eyes of these two wanting to be in their business. This placement really makes me think of youtube couples.Transforming each other preparing for the spotlight. They really boost each others popularity. They love to be seen out together but that makes sense because they get alot of attention. They share a lot of similar interest and love to combine ideas. An example would be two musicians making songs together. Wounds of hyper independence makes being available and being of service something that really brings them closer together. Traveling together is really looked forward to. Traveling also doesn't have to be physical, a lot of mental shifts happen in this partnership. You really get to witness the growth in each other. In the lower natures the ego wars are strong here. Both people don't wanna feel like their submitting to the will of the other. They make each other chase, a lot. Outside influences cause a lot of friction in this relationship. Other people could know when their at odds with each other. Both like to go back and talk to friends or the internet about whats going on. The arguments are PETTYYYYY. They affect each others self esteem alot.

10th: Proud of each others public image, the work ethic and goals align. These two make a good team they share alot of similar ideas so they naturally go towards the same direction. Creating a business together could be a good idea. They look very aesthetically pleasing together and both know this, using it to their advantage whenever they can. This connection could be stop and go or have taken a while to really get off the ground. It seems there was always something else taking attention away from growing the spark. The more dominant energy could subtly restrict how much the other person expresses themselves. Power struggles and feelings of having to fight to have your opinion heard may present but thats the perfect time for them to assert their own beliefs. Which will always be respected in any healthy relationship. Putting on a brave face when things might not be so well is something that attention might need to be brought too. You cant have support if your not honest about your needs. The relationship could be different behind closed doors than what they present to the public. An example is seeming serious in public and maybe not that affectionate but much more goofy and relaxed at home. When traveling together may be a time frustrations really appear. One person could me more relaxed with how they do things and the other could prefer to have a schedule and routine in place. They could also want to do the same things but at different times. They feel a responsibility over each other, they stand up for each other.

11th: There is a lot of love to go around. Friendships, familial relationships and business relationships are equally as important as intimate relationships to this pair. This is a very busy couple that has hands in many points they both have hobbies or responsibilities that take up a lot their time. Double dates would be really fun for them. Doing physical activity together really grows this bond as well. Beware of how much money your spending when together. Yall like to have fun first and consider cost second. Trying new things together is something that really brings this couple closer. They love surprises and spontaneous dates. Both people are very good at vetting out potential partners their very particular about who they show interest in. The fact that you two came together you take the union serious and both require the stability of a solid foundation. This started as a friendship then grown to become more serious. You didnt expect to meet this person when you did. Meeting through other people, spontaneously or online. The friend groups of these two are different they can also come from different cultures or have different upbringings. In the lower natures someone could want to much freedom, they dont want to put ''tittles'' on the relationship. Favoring partying and keeping the vibe light and friendly. Pluto person could try to use house person as a status upgrade. Like the gateway to other groups of people. Im sure they would just call that networking though lol. This relationship can lack a long term vision. One or both people can feel like they aren't worthy of a ''normal'' functioning relationship. Preferring to keep things spontaneous when their actually just running from fear of the unknown.

12th: This couple manifest success together easily, people are intrigued by them. They give power couple vibes. Something is very alluring that brings alot of attention the magnetism has plutoian qualities. Others could think they'd like to have a relationship like this one. Thats from the outside though. Both people know how to keep private matters private. I think of public figures that want to uphold a certain image. These two idolize or romanticize each other, ignoring the obvious red flags. They can become very codependent on each other for emotional fulfillment. If their not on good terms it messes the whole day up. Breaking up to make up. Loving the passion that comes with it. Balancing work and the relationship may be something that has to be worked out. The arguments are very intense and passionate. There personalities start to merge into one, they start really sound, look and act alike. They give so selflessly to one another. They have dedication and patience to get through the challenging times. Their spirituality is developed through their love for one another. Experiencing things they haven't in any other relationship. Truly changed for the better. They understand each other like no one else ever has. They've both experienced something that was very specific and that bonded them. Its the 12th house so you know i have to mention addictions. Yes, this could be actual addiction to a substance but it can be an addiction over the career, belief system or relationship. An area in this persons life gets way more attention than the others. The belief system of these two can be different or started different.

Songs: i put a spell on you- Alice smith, haunted- Beyonce, sycamore tree- Kali uchis, boomerang- Yebba, something about us- Daft punk

[xazse]

So about the Shouki no Kami x reader, while we're fighting Scaramouche's boss we get injured and some pieces of our clothes are already ruined, causing Scaramouche to feel umm. Yk 🫣

HUMILIATION

Synopsis: Your ruined clothing definitely catches Scaramouches attention.

Notes: Hi I enjoyed writing this, I must tell you that it’s completely consensual and reader was free to leave whenever she pleased but chose to indulge in scaras antics! + I do have other requests but they are just asking for a part 2 of something, I’d love to work on it but id rather work on some new stuff.

Pairings: Scaramouche x fem!reader

Warnings: Pussy eating + crying + manhandling + mean!Scara + dom!scara + overstimulation + smut + not proofread + creampie + begging

“Die insolent woman, you’ve been a pain in my side for the longest.”

Scaramouche points Shouki no Kami’s hand at you, he can’t choose which way he wants to kill you, with all the elements in his very hands it’s hard. He wants to make you suffer for as long as possible: wants your screams to fill the room as you beg for mercy, maybe you’ll even cry he’d enjoy that the most.

He bares you one more final look your face dirty and ragged, coughing up your own blood, his eyesight falls a little lower and he pauses. Your shirt was ripped with large tear; exposing your bra, it’s white and basic but nonetheless he can see the fat of your boob spilling out: clearly the bra doesn’t fit you as well as you think it does. Your shorts are a tattered mess as well.

He halts the beam to stare and maybe even admire you a little, He won’t lie and say he hasn’t felt a little bit of attraction at just how desperate you are to kill him, every battle you’ve had with him ends with him fleeing after taking a damaging hit or he’s managed to knock you unconscious, why he hadn’t killed you those times is because he’d wanted you to live with the humiliation, but now that he’s in the final steps of his plan he no longer sees the need to toy with you.

Looking at you longer starts to stir some of those lewd feelings he knows he shouldn’t have for you, it’s merely sexual nothing romantic, he deems you aren’t on his level for him to see you that way, doesn’t matter you’ll be dead in a few.

But… Ever since becoming sentient and reaching the age of maturity, Scara hasn’t laid with any women. As a way of relief when he was alone he’d find himself grabbing and groping at his cock, such a thing had an impact on his body and mind it aggravated him that men had to go through that, it did feel pretty good though when he reached his peak.

He supposes in this moment that you’d be the perfect specimen for him to have sex with, you should be honored you’ll be the first woman to take what humans call his virginity.

You attempt to grab your pole arm but find it getting knocked all the way across the room with just a flick of the giant robots finger. You feel completely defenseless, at least the comfort of knowing you went down with a fight will provide some relief, you close your eyes as you await your death.

Footsteps can be heard behind you, the bastard wants to kill you with his own hands? His steps are slow and steady as he approaches you, when he finally does he kicks you over you groan in pain at just the force of the kick, you’re now on your stomach when he sits down and puts his entire weight on your back.

“I’d kill you right now but I have other uses for you”

“Just get it over with” you seethe through clenched teeth

“And miss the chance to further humiliate you? I don’t think so. I could kill you right now or I could fuck you then let you leave orrrr you can leave and run back to your family with your tail inbetween your legs. Your choice either way you’ll die sooner or later it doesn’t matter to me”

Your lip quirks upwards and you resist the urge to burst out laughing

“Not so popular with the women? Knew you were a hopeless virgin,” you giggle a little before continuing “is that why youre so hell bent on destruction? You just needed some pussy?”

Scaramouche’s expression darkens but you can’t see that, he won’t allow you to.

“You’ve got a mouth on you, always have.” “I think that’s why breaking you down has been so fun”

You shrug “I’ll indulge you Scaramouche” you huff out, “I don’t need to guide you through it right?” You tease.

“No need, I’ll have you crying on my cock begging for more.” He tears off the remainings of your shirt, your shorts are next as he descards the fabrics somewhere else, you aren’t getting those back you sigh loudly.

He places his hand under your stomach in a way you’re arching: ass up and face smooshed into the cold hard floor. You don’t process it as quickly as you should but next thing you know you can feel the cool open breeze on your parts, bastard even ruined your underwear. He admires you once again, staring at your cute cunt as it’s begging to be filled and fucked, he’ll give you just that.

First he decides that he wants to taste you, wants to figure out why people enjoy pussy as much as they do.

He bends down a little, having him eye level with your cunt makes you feel a little embarrassed and your body a little hot, you’ve never been eaten out before if he does- you lurch forward when his tongue licks a stripe up. He thinks he didn’t really get a good taste so he licks another, and another until he’s full on licking and sucking directly on your hole.

“Ohh..mnh-“ you use your hand to close your mouth, you don’t want to give him the satisfaction. But fuck does it feel so good, he hasn’t even found your clit yet and you don’t think you’ll be able to hold back anything.

He starts getting messy with his tongue work, it was messy before but now it feels dirty. You know you’re becoming wetter by the second and he isn’t wasting even a second to lick up the essence that leaks out. This position isn’t doing it for him anymore so he flips you onto your back, immediately he dives right back into sucking, when he accidentally brushes over your clit and sees the sweet whine that slips past he does it again to make sure he heard you right, tracing over the bud you once again make the noise but even sweeter.

“Scara-Ah..ngh”

His arms wrap around your thighs, he doesn’t even seem the least bit bothered that you’re caging his head in, he’s completely in tune with sucking on your wet sloppy clit. All you can do is take it and cry small whimpers of his names, you don’t know whether you want him to stop the pleasure or continue it.

His shorts begin to constrict as he starts to grow hard, they feel tight around him and he feels the need to loosen them up, his hand dips below his waist and into them, his fingers grope his cock roughly, the damn thing definitely has a mind of its own as established earlier. It’s already leaking precum into his hands.

He stands up on his knees, you obediently don’t close your legs, leaving them wide open, a little bit of licking has your eyes clouded and lusty, he thinks you definitely now deserve to feel the stretch of his cock.

He tugs his waistband just below his heavy balls, you stare openly too, he’s fucking big, you had never expected that from his small stature. He knows he is too with the condescending smirk on his face, clearly proud of what he has. It’s more thick than it is long, girth was not lost on him, you advert your gaze fully.

“What are you doing? Look at me clearly woman, none of that shy stuff now.” He leans in and pulls your bra down, useful for later he supposes.

He stokes himself a few times, making sure your eyes are trained on every stroke and every dribble of pre that cascades down his length. He taps his cock against your clit eliciting a sharp rise in your chest. His cock is placed against your wet hole and pushes in, he only gets a little past the tip before you’re whiny voice picks up and telling him to stop for a moment, he does obey to let you breathe.

As he sits and waits he can feel just how hot you are, he bets putting it even deeper will have him seeing stars.

He starts pushing in again, repeating the words relax as you tense up every so often, he isn’t going to fucking kill you. Your tight cunt starts to slowly adjust and pull him in, it gets warmer and warmer the deeper he goes.

“You’ve been- mhn..- fucked? How come you’re so damn tight?” It’s clearly starting to affect him, serves the dick right.

It’s not long before he’s got his full hard cock deep inside you, his chest is connected to yours as he lifts up his hips to slam right back down into you.

“So… ooh my god” his hips can’t stop fucking into you, your gummy walls just adds so much more stimulation, it’s filthy and gross the loud sounds of his balls slapping against your ass or your equally lewd moans of his name drive everything so much higher. His chest is rubbing against your nipples when he goes up and down, they feel raw and extra sensitive adding ontop of the pleasure.

He’s using you like a damn toy to reach his peak, it feels different than when he would use his hands, his balls feel heavier and he feels the need to empty them, empty them right inside your sopping cunt.

You take your fingers and begin rubbing wildly at your clit.

He’s been hitting a certain spot inside of you, but when he inches his hips a way, he hits it directly.

“Pleas- please again-“ “deeper-deeper Scara.”

It’s embarrassing how you’re full on crying it feels so good, too good, you can’t help but cry from the amount of pleasure you’re feeling, no man you’ve ever come across has had his size nor the way he keeps hitting that spot.

He gives you one more stroke and you whine his name the loudest since he had you bent over on all fours. Your pussy gushes and cums around his cock, that nasty white ring shines so much when he looks at where you’re connected for a slight moment but he quickly returns to your face: mouth slightly agar as you take wide gulps of air from just how powerful that orgasm was.

You weakly try to slide up and slip his cock out of you, he’s quick to slam right back in to the hilt.

“That’s not fair, I haven’t came yet, I think you can spare a few more hours” he taps your cheek lightly in a mocking manner.

“You can can’t you?” He purrs out so seductively.

“I’can” you slur out slowly looking so fucked out and In scaras terms ready for another orgasm just like that one.

He keeps fucking into you, even if his cock is soaked in just your cum, or when he switched positions to him standing and holding you with your arms wrapped around his neck whilst he fucks up into your pussy. The floor decorated with your juices just drive him to keep ruining you. When he finally does cum it’s mind-blowing, he bites down so hard on your neck that you think it drew blood. It muffles his loud groan as his balls constrict and he’s filling you with his load, you think the virgin will stop and be one and done but he isn’t, he pauses to breathe but starts bouncing you up and down on his cock all over again.

Scaramouche thinks he actually wants you alive, wants to keep feeling your hot pussy milk him nonstop, he’s interrupted in his thoughts with you weakly begging for more, you’re so fucking gross, wanting to be filled with more of his cum regardless of your hatred for him.

[literaila]

one in the morning

gojo satoru x fem!reader

summary:

"satoru. where did you get these kids?"

warnings: slight angst, awkward child rearing, a bit of arguing, and pining (of course), slightly ooc gojo

a/n: because i am a sucker for little megumi

*

year zero. year one.

it's not that you're not expecting the call. except that you're not. 

like not even a little bit. an asteroid coming down and destroying only you and your apartment building is slightly more likely than satoru gojo calling you in the middle of the night, like he hasn't done in the last six months. 

the last year, really.

a year ago you would've known who it was immediately and probably would've cursed satoru out for calling you at three in the morning to see if you wanted to go get ice cream with him (and then you would've gotten up and put on your shoes to find him outside of your room, already grinning). 

but now you have to check the caller id. 

you blink around in the dark--struggling through the dregs of dream you're still waking through--and sigh. 

unfortunately, you've never had quite enough willpower to ignore this phone call. shoko has called you an idiot many times--too many times, actually--telling you that satoru's attention-seeking habits are not your responsibility. not that she's had to say that in a while, though... and it's not like you're going to sneak out in the middle of the night with him anymore--you can't sneak out. you have your own house. there’s no yaga to look down on you disapprovingly here. 

and he hasn't called you in six months. you haven't even heard about him beyond some irritated remarks from yaga, and shoko's knowing glances when you try to nonchalantly bring him up.

and still. 

it takes you a moment to pick up the phone, your thumb hitting the answer button before your mind can stop you. 

"satoru?" you whisper, listening to the breathing on the other end. 

there's some muffled moving around, and then a breath, and then someone in the background speaking, and then-- 

"i need your help." his voice is quiet like he doesn't want anyone to hear what he's saying. 

what time is it? have you ever heard satoru say those words before? 

your first thought is that he's on another mission. that there's a cursed spirit and he needs some assistance. but when has satoru gojo asked anyone for help with a cursed spirit? when has he ever needed it? suguru was typically there to keep him from-- 

you pause, sitting up in bed. this might be a nightmare, but usually, you're more accustomed to them. "where are you?" you ask him, speaking in the same soft voice. 

you expect him to name off some city, some house, some country that you couldn't possibly get to. you expect him to crack a joke, say something to you about being lost without him, or laugh at how serious your voice sounds. but he only murmurs, "at your door." 

like it isn't a completely crazy thing to say. how does he even know where you live? 

"it's one in the morning," you say, frowning. some small part of you wants him to actually be there, expecting a knock to come from the void of your hallway. and the other, much bigger part, thank you, wants him to be joking. 

"i know," he sighs, and the receiver is muffled again, and then, "can you open it?" 

"what's going on?" 

"please," he repeats. there's no joke to this. this is not satoru asking you if you want to go get donuts at six in the morning, or milkshakes at midnight. "i'll explain. i just need your help." 

you bite back some remark about how he hasn't needed your help for the past year. about how he hasn't called, hasn't texted, and hasn't even asked about you since-- 

but you stand up, trying to untangle a knot in your hair. you hang up on him without answering. your heart gets a bit of satisfaction from that. 

and go to your door, giving yourself two seconds to prepare for the real-life satoru in front of your face. blue-everything eyes, you think, wall white hair, and a stupid smile. 

but when you open it, your eyes drift to his (sort of) like they're already sure of where exactly he might be, it isn't just him. 

there's a little boy--as tall as satoru's waist, with dark hair and furrowed brows to match--standing in front of another little girl--the same dark hair, but blank face--glaring up at satoru like he's kidnapped both of them. 

your eyes widen as you realize that he probably has. 

"this is basically every kid's dream," he's telling this boy, his playful voice like they’ve known each other for years. "i got you candy and i'm letting you stay up late. why aren't you normal?" 

"why aren't you?" this boy retorts, and his voice is hard. unreasonably sarcastic for such a small person. it might make you giggle, the obvious tension between the two of them, if you weren't so worried about these kids' poor parents, freaking out at their disappearance. 

the little girl is the first to notice you there, and she waves, her face much softer, much more exhausted than the boys in front of her. but she doesn't look frightened; not concerned with wherever this strange man has taken the two of them. 

and satoru looks up at the motion, his mouth turning as he looks at you. 

the little boy frowns, but his eyes settle. there's a brief moment where he watches you and you think that he's about to start begging for your help, but then it's gone. and his eyes trail back to satoru, still angry. 

you blink, swallowing at the three of them. this is not ice cream.

"satoru," you get out, eventually. "where did you get these kids?" 

*

"okay," you set a glass of water on the coffee table, trying to put on a normal smile. your hands are shaking, so you tuck them under your sleeves. "i'm sorry i don't have a lot of extra blankets, but if you get cold i'll go look through some boxes and see what i can find." 

it's been ten minutes with them inside your apartment, and you already feel like you're doing something wrong. satoru, obviously, just briefly introduced the two of them to you, before you grabbed his arm and dragged him--along with the kids that trailed behind--into your apartment. 

you'd hissed at him about how it was cold, and one in the morning, and they needed to be asleep. he only smiled and asked how you were. 

so now they're cuddled up on your couch, with your only spare blanket, both of them with dreary eyes. you're trying not to look too closely--to check if they've been crying, or if they're harmed in any sort of way.

the little boy--megumi--nods and tsumiki smiles at you. 

how four little eyes can look so appreciative, you're not sure.

satoru is leaning against the wall behind you, watching you move around these children like it's normal, and you have to bite your tongue to keep from screaming at him.

"is there anything else you need?" you ask them, trying to be softer than you are. you should’ve taken that babysitting job when you were twelve; you’re completely out of your depth here.

megumi shakes his head. 

"no, we're good," tsumiki says. 

and you seriously want to get them to a hospital. where did they come from? why does satoru have them? is he insane? are they insane? have you just dreamt this all up?

"okay, satoru and i are just going to go talk in the kitchen for a bit. come get me if you need anything." and you smile again, taking a couple of hesitant steps as they both look away from you to the show that tsumiki put on when you handed her the remote. 

at least they're not outside anymore.

you drag satoru into the kitchen, thinking about knocking the wind right out of him. he's always been particularly punchable, but right now he's even more so. 

and he's smiling adoringly at you. 

“satoru," you grind out, trying to keep your voice down. he leans against your countertop, crossing his legs. 

and he hums inquisitively. “you know, i don’t think megumi likes me very much.” 

“satoru.” 

“not sure…" he scratches his head, white hair falling over his sunglasses. "i mean he’s kind of a weird kid but still. i took them to the store to pick out anything they wanted and neither of them got anything. even when i showed them the different cakes they had in the bakery. there were matcha rolls today, too. do you think they’re robots or something?” 

“satoru. where did you get those children?” your voice is a step away from furious. 

why is he here right now? why does he just barge into your life at unprecedented moments, acting like nothing has changed between the two of you? 

acting like you haven't missed the sound of his voice or the way he speaks with his hands, or how he's standing right next to you, warmth radiating off of him like a toxin. 

“is that important right now?” he asks. “we’re talking about their spending habits.” 

“i’m talking about you. tell me that you didn’t steal them from the park and that i’m not obligated to report you.” 

“are you serious?" he shakes his head at you, his voice still teasing, calm as ever. "you think i’d just take some random kids home with me?” 

“i don’t know!" you tell him, finally breaking--your voice is raised, and you almost don't notice. "i don’t even know how you got here, or where you’ve been in the past six months, or whose children those are because they are certainly not yours.” 

he pouts. “you don’t think they look like me?” 

“you’re too pale.” 

“that’s rude, you—“ 

“whose kids are they? now, satoru.” 

you hope your face looks intimidating, but honestly, your demand is more like a suggestion when it comes to satoru. he can listen or he can leave. 

you don't know which one you want more. 

there’s a beat of silence where he rubs his foot on the ground, messing up your tiled floors probably. and then he sighs, relenting. “…toji zenin’s.”

he could’ve said anything else and you wouldn’t even care. oh, he found those kids abandoned in a warehouse on a mission? cool. oh, he found some long-lost cousins? great. if it were anything else, you would've waved him off and told him that he needed to get them new clothes, or something. 

but this? 

“what?!” 

“shh. you’re the one who said they need to sleep," he tries to look around the corner of your hallway, even though you both know he doesn't need to.

you’re gawking at him, but, really, can it be helped?

“toji zenin?!”

“well technically fushiguro according to the records i dug up. but zenin nonetheless...” 

“you stole his kids?!” 

“i didn’t steal—“ 

“he tries to kill you so you kill him instead and take his children hostage?!” 

this would be a wonderful moment to wake up.

satoru waves this statement off, frowning. “you’re really brushing over the ‘tried to kill me’ part. what? you don’t care about me?” 

“why do you have them, satoru? what are you planning to do? torture them for information?" your eyes are wide and your heart is panicked. "they’re kids—“ 

he scowls. “of course not.” 

“then what? tell me everything, starting from when toji tried to kill you.” 

“why do you automatically think i did something?" he complains. "it’s not like i asked zenin to kill me first. i didn’t bait him into slicing my throat open.”

“because you always start the problems.” 

“not true. sometimes i solve them, and sometimes i—“ 

“how did you find out about them?” 

he sighs. “he told me about megumi, before he, ya know,” and then he makes a motion across his neck. and a terrible noise that supposedly indicates death. 

you don't even mock him for it “why?” you ask. 

“megumi might inherit the zenin technique. he’s worth a lot to the zenin clan, and i guess that toji made a deal with them.” 

“you guess?” 

“well, it’s not like i had a whole lot of time between the resurrection and murdering thing to ask him. i didn’t invite the guy out for tea so he could tell me about his pride and joy," his voice is riddled with sarcasm, so you can't decide if he's joking or not. 

he is the most infuriating person you've ever met. 

“so what? he asked you to keep megumi away from them?”

“no, he didn’t seem the sentimental type. maybe he told me cause he didn’t want megumi to grow up there, or maybe he told me so i could claim the prize money for myself.” he shrugs. “it doesn’t matter.” 

you glare at him. “oh, it doesn’t?”

“no. i asked megumi what he wanted and this was it. he doesn’t want to live there and leave tsumiki behind, or have her live in that misogynistic shithole.” 

“how old is he?” 

satoru almost winces. "uh, six?”

“you don’t even know how old he is?” you close your eyes, shaking your head. 

“he’s in first grade! we haven’t gone through all of the basics yet.” 

“and tsumiki?” 

“…nine.” 

“satoru.” 

“i’ll figure it out. megumi acts like he’s fifty years old anyway, so what do i care?” 

you can practically see him rolling his eyes. 

“what do you care?" you repeat, mocking. "you just told me that megumi made this decision for himself. he's a kid. he probably doesn’t understand—“ 

“he understands that if he goes to the zenin clan his sister will suffer in whatever way they deem fit. i mean, you know what it’s like for girls there—especially without any cursed energy.” 

“you cant just make this decision for them on a whim, satoru. have you thought any of it through? where are they going to stay? who’s going to watch them when you’re sent away? where are they going to go to school? what if megumi does inherit his cursed technique?” 

“all of that doesn’t matter. i'll figure it out," he waves off the topic of their lives like it's a mere suggestion, "what matters is that i keep those kids from being subjected to a life of servitude and competition. that they get to be kids while they can.” 

you swallow. is there a way not to be frightened by this? “i know—i know where you’re coming from," you give him a weak smile, trying not to yell, or fight, or question this so much that satoru shuts down. "it’s nice of you to be… worried about them. but this isn’t like taking in a lost kitten, satoru. these are children.” 

“do you really feel the need to point that out?” 

“yes. what do you know about kids?” 

he smiles, wide. “nothing!” he exclaims. “that’s why i came here. and you’re already doing a great job.” 

you frown. “what do i know about kids?” 

“well, you like them, don’t you?” 

“what?” 

“when we went to that daycare center during second year you played with all of the kids. you like them," he nods as if affirming it himself. 

you went to a daycare with satoru once to take care of a grade three curse and apparently, it's led him to insanity. 

“you’re comparing my hide-and-seek skills to taking care of those two kids on my own?"

“i mean, i’ll be here too...” 

“taking care of three children on my own?” you correct. 

satoru pouts. 

you think about what suguru told you after riko amanai died; about satoru and the shift within him. some sort of manic strength he hasn't uttered a word about since. 

but you continue, swallowing. "what's this really about?" you ask, softly, trying not to be mad, or worried, or concerned about why he came here to you. "it's not like you to... take responsibility for something you're not responsible for." 

his pout turns into a frown. you can see his brows furrow. "you don't think i'm capable of helping people?" 

"i know you're capable. but why? why now? i mean, it's been a year since toji died, and you're just getting them now? you suddenly remembered what he said to you?" 

"i had to figure out the logistics of toji's deal." 

"okay," you shake your head, "but still. why not have a family take them in? find someone who can give them a relatively normal life before they're pushed into all of this?" 

satoru's face is blank. "no. what happens when megumi is eight and his new 'parents' put him in a hospital because he's seeing things that they can't?" 

for the first time since he's walked through your front door, he sounds almost serious.

"i--" 

"what happens when they're afraid of him because he draws in cursed energy? when his 'family' rejects him like yours did? like suguru's did?" 

"satoru." 

"honestly, do you think that's any better?" he gestures to your living room, to the kids he's proclaimed responsibility for. "if he does inherit his technique then the zenin clan will go looking for him anyway, and he won't be able to protect himself because there was no one to teach him how. no matter where he goes he's going to be ripped away from tsumiki, who seems to be the only thing he actually cares about. he didn't even want to know--" 

"is this about suguru?" you ask him, the words falling before you can catch them. 

satoru stills. you can see every one of his muscles tense. preparing for a fight. "what?" 

"are you trying to... make up for his decisions? do you feel guilty? is megumi supposed to replace him?" 

"replace him?" 

"i know you think that you can take care of everything on your own, satoru, but you can't. it's not your fault that toji died. and it's not your fault that suguru left--" 

"it is my fault." he says, so softly the words are almost caught before they can reach you. "it is." 

you shake your head. you should've had this conversation months ago. a year ago, before any of this could happen. 

"c'mon, y/n," he continues, no laughter, no smile, no swagger. "i saw what was happening. everyone did. but i was his best friend. i was supposed to be there for him." 

"suguru didn't want you there. he didn't want you to be a part of it." 

"well i could've stopped him. even if i couldn't save suguru--" his voice cracks on his name. "i could've saved everyone else. but i didn't." 

"that's... that's a ridiculous suggestion. how are you supposed to kill your best friend? why should you have to save everyone? why would you even--" 

"megumi isn't some replacement. he's a little boy, and if i'm not there for him then he's going to be stuck with his family. just like i was. he's going to be used for his cursed energy and who knows how he'll turn out? if he'll kill people recklessly like toji, or die trying to do the right thing?" 

you're silent. 

"i'm the only one who can protect him from this," satoru says, and you realize that he's been thinking about this for the past year. that every second since he almost died, this has been on his mind. "they're not going to touch him if i make it clear that i won't let them. i won't--i'm not going to let him become someone he doesn't want to be." 

you sigh. "satoru..." 

his body moves at your voice and he smiles again, shaking off whatever anger you drew out. it's almost a complete shift in who you're talking to. like the stakes no longer matter to him; these kids are just another obstacle to face, a power to control. 

like he's remembered the role he's supposed to play. 

"besides, someone's going to need to take over for me eventually. i might as well train him myself." 

you cant see his eyes, and that’s probably good. you wish someone else were here to take your side, explain to satoru that he’s just a kid himself. that he shouldn't have to take care of everything on his own. 

because when it’s just you, he always has the upper hand. he always gets his way. 

"okay," you say, eventually, after you realize that you'll never win this fight. that you don’t want to fight with him at all.

"okay?" he repeats. "so you'll help me?" 

"help you?" 

"yeah. why do you think i brought them over here?" 

you pause. "you want me... to what? raise them?" 

"with me, yes." 

"are you kidding?" 

"no. you're probably the only person i trust to help." 

the words do something almost indescribable to your body. the person you were a year ago would've cried out in relief, would've clung to him like glue to paper. 

but you frown instead. "seriously?" 

"you've already taken care of them better than i could. look." he drags you around the corner to where tsumiki has her head on megumi's, both of them snoring softly, folded into the blanket you gave them. 

the tv flickers in the background, bothering neither of them. how they've managed to fall asleep with all of the yelling that's been going on, you don't know. 

"see? they already feel safe around you." 

"they're exhausted," you correct, but feel yourself soften at the sight of them. they are kinda cute without the scowl or concern plaguing their faces.

"we're going to be great parents," satoru coos, slinging an arm around your shoulder. 

you push him away. "we are not their parents. we are... permanent babysitters. nannies." 

satoru fixes you with an amused look. "okay." 

"and you still owe me an explanation. i want a complete narrative about what you've been doing for the past six months. and how you found the two of them." 

"okay," he steps closer to you again like you won't notice. 

"and--" you don't have anything else. it's one in the morning. how clear is your mind supposed to be? "and you're paying for anything they need." 

"uh huh." 

eventually, you sigh. it's a surprise that you've lasted this long. "fine. i'll help you. but only because they'd probably die if they spent more than twenty-four consecutive hours with you." 

satoru doesn't say anything--not to whine or roll his eyes--and it's a small acknowledgment, a thank you he doesn't have to say out loud. he'll take this win, at least. 

the two of you watch them, relaxing into the wall. 

after a minute satoru whispers. "by the way..." 

"what?" 

"i didn't tell megumi that i killed toji." 

you turn to him. your eye might as well start twitching. 

"what? he said he didn't want to know--" 

*

you're sneaking into the kitchen when you notice him sitting at the table. his hands are crossed in front of him, his eyes focused on a stain you haven't been able to get off of the wood. 

he's very small, you realize, watching him. his hair is messier than it was the night before, sticking to his head like he slept slumped against it. 

he's not doing anything, really. just sitting there. you can see his legs swinging in the air. 

and before you can prepare for what to say to this little boy who you're probably going to be spending a lot of time with, your mouth is open. "hey," you say to him, just whispering. 

tsumiki must be sleeping. 

megumi looks up, quickly, like he wasn't expecting you to be there. his eyes are wide like he's been caught doing something he wasn't supposed to. but then he slumps down again and gives you a brief nod in acknowledgment. then looks back down, because the table is very interesting.

you wonder how many mornings he's woken up alone, with no one to tuck him back in.

"can't sleep?" you ask him, standing across from him and leaning against the table. 

"this is when i usually wake up," you recall his voice the night before when satoru was teasing him, rougher than a boy's should be. but it's soft now, quiet. 

it's probably seven if the clock on your bedside table is to be believed. 

"you were up pretty late, though." 

he almost rolls his eyes, remembering the events of the night before. 

and you can tell that he doesn't really want to talk to you. he doesn't know anything about you, or what you want with him. why should he trust you? 

you clear your throat. "how old are you?" 

he looks up again. "six. why?" 

"satoru wasn't sure." 

this time, megumi actually rolls his eyes. you're familiar with this sort of annoyance directed at satoru, so you smile, just a little bit. at least there's something you can relate to. 

"and tsumiki?" 

"seven." 

you nod, stepping away. 

what do you say to a boy who has been dragged into your home by a maniac? 

you sigh, clearing your throat again. "are you hungry?" 

megumi's eyes narrow. there's a brief second between the two of you, where some sort of understanding passes through his eyes. who was the last person to make him breakfast? 

and then he nods, slowly. 

you smile. "okay. c'mon, let's see if i have anything you like." 

*

next part.

[arieslost]

sky full of stars | ln4

summary: dj!lando always plays your song when you’re at the club.

word count: 3,615

warnings: drinking

masterlist — join my tag list here!

© arieslost 2024. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.

2021

You did not want to be in this club. You would need another pair of hands and feet to count off all the places you’d rather be, the very first one being asleep in your bed.

But here you were, not only in the club, but within a throng of people at varying levels of fucked up, jumping around and dancing to the song pounding through the speakers. Your comforts were twofold: the first was knowing that you could handle the two shots in your system, and the second was that your best friend was the designated driver tonight, so there was no way in hell she was going to leave without you.

Frankly, you’d been ready to leave an hour ago. In fact, you’d started saying the words, “I want to go home” when you caught a glimpse of the DJ in charge of tonight’s music. Granted, it was hard to really look at him considering the fact that the lights were low and you were on the other end of the club, but you’d seen just enough to know that he was attractive and any thought of leaving had gone right out the window. Not to mention the fact that he hadn’t said anything when he started his set, so you didn’t even know what his voice sounded like.

You needed a closer look.

So here you were, surprisingly enjoying yourself on the dance floor while you tried to check him out without being overly conspicuous. You were only able to make out a head of curly hair and the large hand that lifted a shot glass to his lips when your phone started ringing, the buzz in your pocket the only indication thanks to the blaring music. You squinted at the screen, thinking it might be your friend trying to find you, but the caller ID read “Potential Spam,” so your phone went right back into your pocket. You were on a mission.

When you looked up, you made direct eye contact with the man of the hour– the DJ you found nothing short of infatuating. You were rather close to his setup, maybe ten people away, but you could feel his gaze on you as he picked up a microphone.

“This next song is dedicated to the gorgeous woman I’m looking at right now,” he announced to the whole room, sending a wink in your direction before getting to work on fading the current song into the new one– “A Sky Full of Stars” by Coldplay.

You felt goosebumps rising on your arms as the first few notes filled the room, suddenly glad that you were here and not at home, asleep. The lights moved in tandem to the beat of the song, and you finally got a proper look at his face. It’s then that you knew you were screwed, because if he wasn’t the most attractive man you’d ever seen in your life, you’d be lying.

You barely had any time to pull yourself together before he was motioning for one of his friends to take over for him and stepping down from the booth into the crowd, making a beeline right for where you stood in the middle of it all.

“You’re awfully bold,” you said when he was close enough to hear you, a bit taken aback by how quickly he’d closed the distance between the two of you. “What makes you think I like this song?”

He didn’t answer at first, instead choosing to slowly run his hand down your arm until his fingers tangled with yours. “You have goosebumps, and I’d be shocked if you didn’t like it. When I played it last time, you came up to me and tried to take the mic so you could sing it to everyone.”

That’s another reason why you never made a habit out of going to the club. Somehow, it always got to the point where you lost your mind a little bit and somehow managed to find new ways to make an idiot out of yourself. But tonight was different– you were managing your alcohol intake, and the hot DJ was calling you out on something you’d been too drunk to remember the next morning.

Your friends hadn’t though; in fact, they’d been gracious enough to provide video proof of them dragging you away from the DJ booth. You’d never felt such shame as you did watching that back.

“Don’t be embarrassed,” he said, his free hand tilting your chin up so he could look right at you as he spoke. “It’s how I noticed you in the first place. I haven’t been able to take my eyes off of you since.”

At least one good thing came out of my foolishness, you thought to yourself as he took your other hand and put both of your arms around his neck. It made sense, anyway– you definitely would’ve remembered seeing him before had you been sober.

“I’m not a very good dancer,” you warned him as he began to sway to the music, taking you along with him as his hands went down to your hips.

“Neither am I,” he confided, lips close to your ear.

The chorus began, the song’s beat drop making the lights change from red to blue, and you decided that you would let this happen, even if it turned into another embarrassing memory. At least you would remember this time, and you’d never forget swaying back and forth with the handsome DJ as the rest of the crowd danced around you both.

2022

You were in the club again, and you couldn’t imagine being anywhere else. Spending so much time with your favorite DJ, Lando Norris, will do that to you. After that first dance, he bought you a couple drinks and didn’t go back to the DJ booth for the rest of the night due to you dragging him right back out into the crowd and dancing with him until your feet hurt too much to stand. Eventually, your best friend had found you and told you it was time to go, and in your tipsy state you’d kept your arms firmly around Lando, said something about “holding him hostage,” and vehemently refused to go anywhere. It wasn’t until he gave you his number that you allowed your best friend to take you home.

He texted you right away when he woke up that morning, and the day after the two of you went on your first date. He surprised you by taking you to a rather high-end restaurant; you’d pegged him for a more low-key guy when it came to dates, despite the fact that he’d dedicated a song to you in front of a club full of people, and you were proved correct when you were on the phone with him later that night.

“I don’t even like going out that much,” he confessed, rubbing a hand over his tired eyes. “I just thought you deserved something special for a first date so I didn’t look like a loser.”

“You could have just told me that,” you giggled. “The dress code for our next date can be sweats.”

You still remembered the way his eyes lit up when you said “our next date.” That next date, a movie marathon at your apartment, had turned into countless dates, and you never went back to that restaurant.

Now, you were in the club where the two of you first met to celebrate your one year anniversary. Lando was wearing a white button up, and had just unbuttoned the top two buttons to reveal more of his tan skin and the gold chain around his neck. You’d given him a look, and he’d complained that “it’s just so hot in here,” but the both of you knew he was just doing it to rile you up.

It was working.

Your hands gravitated to the newly exposed skin, palms running up along his shoulders and fingers dipping beneath his collar to gently scratch at his back. You could spend all night running your hands over his skin, and he’d be happy to let you do it. He leaned closer to you, nearly stepping on your toes as his arms looped around your waist.

“You really weren’t lying last year when you said you were a bad dancer.” You laughed at the affronted look on his face.

“I think I’ve gotten better, thank you very much.” He said, and promptly stepped directly on your foot. “Shit, baby, I’m sorry!”

You only laughed harder, pulling him into a kiss. You could feel the vibrations of his own laughter against your lips.

“Wait right here,” he instructed, breaking the kiss. “I’ve got something for you.”

He kissed your cheek and disappeared into the crowd.

The song playing began fading out, which caught your attention because it was in the middle of the chorus. You didn’t need Lando’s DJ knowledge to know that it was a strange decision to fade a song out long before it was over.

“Attention, everyone. We had a special request tonight from a familiar face,” the DJ announced before passing the microphone to none other than your boyfriend.

“This next song goes out to my beautiful girlfriend,” Lando said, pointing directly at you and causing your face to get hot when half the room looked in the direction of his finger. “Happy one year, baby. I love you.”

Your jaw dropped as the familiar opening notes of “A Sky Full of Stars” started playing. Not just because of the song, but because of those three special words. I love you. You’d only said it to each other a handful of times, and Lando had just said it to you in front of hundreds of people.

You met him in the middle of the floor, too impatient to wait until he got back to you.

“I love you, I love you so much!” You yelled over the music, kissing him again.

“One year is just the beginning, yeah?” He asked, and you nodded enthusiastically, cheeks hurting from smiling so wide.

2023

You were wrapped up in Lando’s arms as you stood before his setup. In the past year, he had been promoted to be the main talent for the club and had three sets every weekend. He had insisted that the only gift he wanted from you for your two year anniversary was that you help him DJ his next set, and you’d obviously agreed. You got him a necklace anyway, but kept your promise so long as he promised to help you gain at least some skills beforehand so the audience wouldn’t kick you out for being shit. After a week or so, you felt confident enough with the buffer of the knowledge you’d picked up over the past two years to be where you were now– fading one song into another almost seamlessly.

Lando would take his hands off of you for only seconds at a time to adjust something here or there and make the music flow as smoothly as possible. Otherwise, he was all over you for the whole club to see, and you were kind of obsessed with it. He was hardly paying attention to anything else; only moving on autopilot to fiddle with the knobs or whatever it was he was doing to make you look like an adequate DJ.

“Did I do okay?” You asked towards the end of the set, looking over your shoulder at your boyfriend who hadn’t stopped smiling at you since you left the apartment and arrived at the club early to set up.

“Are you kidding? I think I might be out of a job after tonight,” he said, threading his fingers into your hair to pull you into a long kiss. “At least I would be, if I didn’t have this party trick under my sleeve.”

Slightly dazed from the passion of his kiss, you let him lean around you and queue up a song that wasn’t originally in the mix for that evening’s set.

At this point, you should have expected it, and maybe you did a little bit, but that didn’t stop the tears from pricking your eyes and the goosebumps rising on your arms when “A Sky Full of Stars” began, sending the crowd into a chorus of cheers.

“It works every time,” he said cheekily, reaching up to wipe away the tears that had escaped.

“You are unbelievable.” It was meant to be said in jest, but you were just so filled with love and adoration for him that it sounded like a compliment.

“Dance to our song with me,” he said, spinning you and tugging you forward so you bumped right into his chest.

“Here?” You looked behind you, at the set up, at the hundreds of people, and he took your chin in his hand and turned your face back to him.

“Here. Now. I want them all to see how much I love you.” He said it so sweetly that, in that moment, you were willing to give him just about whatever he wanted.

He started singing the song to you, “‘Cause in a sky, ‘cause in a sky full of stars, I think I saw you,” and it felt like you were the only two people in the room when the beat dropped and you kissed him with everything you had, letting him sway you back and forth and spin you around one too many times just to see his smile and hear his giddy laugh.

2024

You’re surprised when Lando tells you that he’s made different plans for your three year anniversary. The club has become a second home of some sorts; you’re there more often than not to watch his sets, and you’ve always gone there for your anniversaries. Not just the years, but the six month, year and a half, and two and a half year anniversaries as well. Thus, the sudden deviation from tradition raises a few alarm bells in your head. If anything, you’d expect a change for your four years next year since 4 is your boyfriend’s lucky number.

You don’t have time to dwell on it that much. You have to be out the door in ten minutes, and you still have to finish applying your lipstick, not to mention strap yourself into the sparkling silver heels Lando had gotten you for Christmas.

“Almost ready, baby?” He asks, peeking into the bathroom and watching as you add one last swipe of lipstick.

“Yup! Just need my—” you’re cut off when he holds up the heels. “—shoes. Thanks, Lan.”

“Here, sit. I’ll put them on for you.” He gestures to the edge of the tub.

You take him up on his offer happily, and your heart jumps up into your throat when he stares right into your eyes and slowly gets down on one knee before you.

You’d overheard him talking about possibly proposing to you with your parents over the holiday break, and you hadn’t been stealthy about it at all, so he knows that you heard. Since then, he’s made a game out of getting on one knee in front of you every now and then. He already did it once this morning when he woke you up only to tell you that he made you breakfast. You know he’s joking, but now that you’re celebrating a significant milestone in your relationship you can’t help but have a slight inkling that his joking around is less of a joke and more of a hint.

So when he holds your gaze long enough to make you start thinking that it might actually happen before going about putting your shoes on, you’re not at all fazed and ruffle his hair.

“Hey! Easy, I spent a lot of time making my hair look good for you.” He yelps, jumping up to look in the mirror and patting it down meticulously.

“I like it when it’s messy,” you reply, giving him a look that you know drives him crazy.

“You can’t say that and look at me that way when we’re trying to leave the house, babe.” He whines.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You make sure the straps on your heels are tight enough before you stand up, pleased that your retaliation to his down-on-one-knee joke worked better than you thought it would. “Come on, I don’t want to be late!”

He wastes no time in getting his payback for your antics when you arrive at the restaurant he took you to for your very first date. He opens the car door for you, and takes your hand to help you step out. The moment you’re on the sidewalk and the door is closed behind you, he gets down on one knee again, making a point to look at you the entire time. Your heart jumps again. Certainly he wouldn’t do it on the sidewalk? Or maybe he would, to add to the element of surprise?

He doesn’t. He simply ties his shoelace, the picture of innocence all the while.

“Shall we?” He says as he straightens up, offering his arm with a smile.

You retain your own picture of innocence, wrapping your hand around his bicep. “We shall.”

Seeing that he had booked the private dining room has more alarm bells going off in your head, not to mention the fact that you thought you’d never see the inside of this restaurant again. Regardless, you were actually kind of happy to be somewhere quieter to celebrate your anniversary, as much as you’ve fallen in love with being at the club.

Lando clears his throat loudly towards the end of your meal as the waiter pours two glasses of champagne. “Three years,” he begins, sounding somewhat awestruck.

You nod in agreement. “Three years. Sick of me yet?”

“I don’t think that’s possible.” He passes you a glass, and you clink them together before you each take a sip. “Actually, I’d really love to just spend my entire life with you.”

Now he’s not even trying to hide it, so you laugh a little bit. “That’s sweet, Lan.”

“I’m serious,” he pouts, and you try to contain yourself, painting a serious expression on your face and nodding as you press your lips together. “Fine, I admit it. I went a little too far with the joke.”

“Which time? Are we talking about just today or the past few weeks?” You ask pointedly, taking another sip of your champagne.

“Okay, a lot too far.” He huffs, getting out of his chair and pushing it in before walking to your side of the table. “I want to make up for it right now though, if that’s alright with you.”

“Oh my God. You’re actually serious?” You ask, feeling your insides beginning to shake a little with giddiness as he gets down on one knee before you for the fourth time today.

“I have never been more serious about anything in my life.” He reaches into his suit jacket and pulls out a small box.

It looks a bit different than ring boxes normally look, and the moment he opens it you understand why. The notes of “A Sky Full of Stars” emit from within the box where the ring sits, the dazzling diamond sparkling when it catches the light.

“Fuck’s sake, Lando, I wouldn’t have spent so much time on my makeup if I knew you were gonna do this,” you sniffle, putting a hand over your mouth.

“I’ll keep it short because I don’t want to cry too much and ruin it,” he promises, taking your free hand in his own, the other holding the box out to you. “I’ve never been happier to be borderline assaulted by a drunk girl in the middle of a set, because if that never happened I don’t know if we would’ve met.”

You start laughing hysterically, tears most definitely ruining your makeup, and he laughs through his own tears.

“I just love you so much, every little thing about you. It would take me eternity to tell you how much I love you, and that wouldn’t even be enough time with you. So, that’s why I want to ask you to be with me beyond eternity and do me the honor of being my wife.” He says your name like he’s saying it for the first time, taking his time to savor the way it rolls off his tongue. “Will you marry me?”

“Yes,” you nod. “Yes, yes, yes.”

Hand shaking, he slips the ring onto your finger. The moment it’s in place, he puts his other knee down and pulls you into the tightest hug as the song continues playing from the box.

“I love you,” you whisper in his ear, feeling his shoulders shake slightly as he cries. “But did you have to give me a heart attack so many times today?”

He laughs, pulling away and grabbing a napkin to gently wipe your eyes. “Four’s my lucky number, I had to do it three other times today to make sure I got it right.”

The song comes to an end, and you pick up the box, observing the intricate design and the engraving on the outside– You get lighter the more it gets dark. I’m going to give you my heart. Forever.

“You know this has to be the song we dance to for the first time as Mr. and Mrs. Norris, right?” You say to him, leaning in and kissing the tears off of his cheeks.

“Way ahead of you, baby. I already started making our playlist; it’s the first song on there.”

note: the fact that i’m posting this after lando confirmed he “retired” from dj-ing… call this my long-winded eulogy. special thanks to coldplay for making a song that inspired a whole story!

requests are OPEN, and my inbox is always open for comments, criticism, and conversation! feel free to pop in!

reblogs are always appreciated <33

beautiful dividers by @/saradika !

tags (i’m sorry if i couldn’t tag you!): @venusacrossthestars @67-angelofthelordme-67 @emails-i-can-send @nelly187 @cixrosie @fangirl-dot-com @sainzluvrr @imheretoread @mellowarcadefun @yourbane @monsieurbacteria6 @thef1diary @clara760-blog @baby-moxley @positiveaspirations @xfuckoffx @hannahbrown2002 @cataalinababeyy @inejghafawifesblog @formulasportworld @meandjoemama @maddie-bell @mrsmaybank13 @hadids-world @havaneselover08 @aacherrylips @itsmoonia @universallyhoundbonkfestival @rery30 @paigeworlds @wassgood @itscrzy @ctrlyomomma @inlovewithdeadboys @multifandomfan1 @bwormie @megsmclaren @barackostea @enchantemirrorball @tiredallthetimex @cosmoscoffeee @mlilyb16 @ophcelia @idktbhhsworld @l-inas @kath8278 @formulaangel55 @y-nusername @sla123455ffh @dinodumbass @diaa-20 @alexmarie29 @lisoba13 @ftdtlovecore @clowngirlsstuff @jurelij @romanxffs @sadisticfries @loyalpuffofthehuffle @cherrue @itsprashimusic @danielmarie @dampcelery0294 @shasasthings @bringbacktim @lou-larcher5 @yunakynn @hanbinnneee

[reidmarieprentiss]

They Were Never You

Summary: Spencer finds family and maybe more while at university.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: fluff, light angst

Warnings/Includes: Spencer and reader are 12-18 in this, teenage angst, teenage hormones, absent parents, Spencer's mom, arguing, bad relationships, reader is a cheerleader, use of Y/N, reader only has a mom

Word count: 5.4k

a/n: spencer baby i want you to be happy you don't need any more sadness in your storyline !!

main masterlist

Starting college at the tender age of 12 was undeniably daunting for Spencer Reid. The vast campus, the mature students, and the intense coursework all contributed to a whirlwind of emotions that he had to navigate. Fortunately, he found some solace in knowing that his assigned advisor was not only understanding but also one of the leading professors in his field. It was a slight disappointment, though, that he wouldn’t attend her lectures until he reached his upper-division courses. 

One afternoon, Spencer had a scheduled meeting with his advisor, Jan, late in the day. He nervously approached her office, his small frame barely reaching the little window as he knocked softly.

“Hi, Spencer! Please come in and sit down,” Jan greeted warmly, her smile putting him at ease. 

“Hello,” he replied quietly, his eyes flickering over to a girl sitting in the corner of the room.

“I’m sorry, this is my daughter, Y/N. She hangs out with me after school gets out. I hope you don’t mind that she sits in on our meeting,” Jan explained, noticing Spencer’s curiosity.

“No—uh, no, that’s fine,” Spencer stammered, taking a seat opposite Jan.

A few minutes into their meeting, Jan’s phone buzzed insistently. She glanced at the caller ID and sighed. “I’m terribly sorry, Spencer, but I have to take this call. It’s quite important. I’ll be back shortly,” she apologized, stepping out of the room.

Left alone, Spencer fidgeted with his hands, feeling the awkward silence stretch. You, always the social one, saw an opportunity to break the ice.

“So, Spencer, how old are you?” you asked, your curiosity piqued by the boy who seemed out of place among the usual college crowd.

“12,” he replied, barely meeting your gaze.

“Me too! How come you’re in college?” you continued, genuinely interested.

“I’m really smart,” Spencer said simply, his voice tinged with pride and modesty.

“Hmm, okay… what’s 10395 divided by 15?” you asked, testing him with random numbers that popped into your head.

“693,” he answered without hesitation.

Your eyes widened in surprise. “I don’t even know if that’s right, but I totally believe you,” you said, your tone filled with genuine awe.

Spencer giggled shyly at your response, the stuffy air in the room easing slightly. For the first time since he started college, he felt a bit of normalcy, sharing a simple, innocent moment with someone his own age.

—

Spencer found himself looking forward to the times he could schedule late appointments with Jan, his advisor. It wasn't for any particular reason, of course. He definitely needed to see her later in the day to fit into his very busy schedule, and it was absolutely necessary for him to meet with her multiple times per term. 

As the months went by, these late afternoon meetings became a regular occurrence. Spencer would knock on Jan's office door, a little less nervous each time, and he always found you there, sitting in the corner, waiting for your mom to finish work. 

One particular afternoon, Spencer arrived for another scheduled meeting. He knocked and entered the office, greeted by Jan's familiar, warm smile.

“Hi, Spencer! Come on in. How’s your day going?” she asked, motioning for him to take a seat.

“Hello, Dr. Jan. It’s been good, thank you,” Spencer replied, glancing over at you in the corner.

As the meeting progressed, Spencer couldn't help but steal glances in your direction. You would often be engrossed in a book or working on some homework, but you always looked up and gave him a friendly smile whenever you caught him looking.

After discussing his coursework and upcoming projects, Jan excused herself once again. She apologized as she stepped out, leaving you and Spencer alone in the office.

“So, Spencer, what are you learning about today?” you asked, your eyes sparkling with curiosity.

“Quantum mechanics,” Spencer replied, his voice gaining a bit of excitement. “It’s really fascinating.”

“Wow, that sounds complicated. Can you explain it to me?” you asked, leaning forward with genuine interest.

Spencer’s eyes lit up. “Well, it’s about understanding the behavior of particles at the smallest scales. It’s like… imagine if you could see the tiniest building blocks of everything around us and how they move and interact with each other.”

You nodded, trying to grasp the concept. “That sounds really cool. Do you think I could understand it if I tried to learn?”

“Of course!” Spencer exclaimed, his enthusiasm growing. “You’re smart, Y/N. You can understand anything if you put your mind to it.”

You beamed at his encouragement. “Thanks, Spencer. Maybe one day you can teach me more about it.”

“I’d like that,” he said, feeling a warmth in his chest that he couldn’t quite explain.

When Jan returned, she found the two of you deep in conversation, a smile playing on her lips as she observed the budding friendship. Spencer left the office that day with a lighter heart, looking forward to the next late afternoon appointment, not just for the academic guidance, but for the chance to see you again.

—

As summer approached, Spencer found himself facing an unexpected dilemma. He had always assumed he would return home when college was out, but a recent revelation about his mother’s living situation in a care facility left him with nowhere to go. The thought of spending the summer alone and without a place to stay weighed heavily on his mind. 

During one of his scheduled meetings with Jan, a meeting he had purposely chosen when he knew you wouldn’t be there, Spencer decided to bring up the issue. He entered the office, his usual composed demeanor slightly marred by worry.

“Hello, Spencer,” Jan greeted him warmly as usual. “What’s on your mind today?”

“Hi, Dr. Jan,” he began hesitantly, his fingers nervously tapping on the armrest of his chair. “I, um, have a problem. I don’t have anywhere to go for the summer.”

Jan’s expression softened with concern. “What do you mean, Spencer?”

“My mom... she’s living in a care facility, and there’s no other family I can stay with,” Spencer explained, his voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t know what to do.”

Jan’s heart broke for the young boy sitting before her. Despite his remarkable intelligence and maturity, he was still just a child in need of care and support. She thought for a moment, weighing her options, and then made a decision.

“Spencer,” she said gently, leaning forward. “I can’t bear the thought of you being alone this summer. Would you consider staying with Y/N and me? We have plenty of room, and I’d love for you to spend the summer with us.”

Spencer’s eyes widened in surprise. “I don’t want to be a burden, Dr. Jan.”

“You wouldn’t be a burden at all,” Jan assured him with a kind smile. “In fact, I think Y/N would be thrilled to have you around. You two get along so well, and it would be nice for you to have some company your age.”

Spencer felt a wave of relief wash over him. The idea of spending the summer with you and Jan, rather than facing the unknown alone, was a comforting one. “Thank you, Dr. Jan. I really appreciate it.”

“It’s settled then,” Jan said, her smile widening. “We’ll make sure you have a wonderful summer, Spencer. I’ll take care of all the arrangements. You just focus on finishing your term.”

As Spencer left the office that day, a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He felt a sense of belonging and gratitude that he hadn’t experienced in a long time. The prospect of spending the summer with you and Jan filled him with an unexpected sense of excitement and hope.

—

Spencer Reid’s summer with you and your mother, Jan, was transformative. The days started with shared breakfasts, where laughter and stories flowed freely. Spencer, ever the scholar, enjoyed the frequent library visits. You would tag along, your nose often buried in a novel, while Spencer delved into more complex topics. These trips were not just about books but about bonding over shared interests and knowledge.

Afternoons often saw the three of you venturing outdoors. Whether it was picnics in the park, hiking up hills, or friendly competitions in various activities, the time spent in nature fostered a sense of friendship and fun.

Evenings were reserved for deep conversations. Whether it was discussing a book, sharing personal stories, or stargazing in the backyard, these moments brought you and Spencer closer together. Spencer often found himself opening up about his past and his fears, finding comfort in the understanding and support from you.

Cooking together became another highlight of the summer. Jan would teach you and Spencer her favorite recipes, turning the kitchen into a hub of activity and laughter. You and Spencer would often compete to see who could make the best dish, with Jan serving as the delighted judge.

Through late-night talks, you and Spencer grew particularly close. You introduced him to music, movies, and other pop culture he had missed out on, while he helped you with your schoolwork, making complex subjects more approachable and even fun.

As the summer ended, Spencer left with a lighter heart, feeling a sense of belonging and gratitude. The bond you all had formed carried through the next year. Despite his busy college schedule, Spencer made time to help you with your schoolwork, exchanging notes, emails, and occasional visits to keep your friendship strong.

When the next summer arrived, Spencer once again stayed with you and Jan. The days were much the same, filled with learning, adventures, and deep conversations. This time, there was an added focus on preparing you for high school.

Spencer tutored you in advanced subjects, making sure you felt confident and ready for the challenges ahead. Jan and Spencer both helped you develop important life skills, from time management to effective study habits. Spencer also provided emotional support, sharing his own experiences and reassuring you about the transition to high school.

—

"It's so nice that you get to live in a dorm," you complained to Spencer, lying back on your bed and staring at the ceiling.

"Huh? Why?" Spencer asked, looking up from the book he was reading.

"Because you get to be alone. I would kill to constantly be alone," you replied, tone drenched in teenage angst.

"It, um, it's not that great," Spencer said, glancing at you.

"But like, you don't have someone constantly sticking their nose in your business and making you do chores and homework," you continued, a hint of frustration in your voice.

"It's nice your mom cares about you so much," Spencer replied softly.

"Oh, Spence, I'm sorry. I—I didn't mean to be inconsiderate," you said, sitting up and looking at him with genuine remorse.

"No, it's okay. I just don't really like being alone," Spencer admitted, his eyes meeting yours.

"You have me?" you said, a small smile forming on your lips.

"I know," Spencer smiled back at you, feeling a warmth in his chest.

The two of you were hanging out in your bedroom, no longer having to stay with your mom after school now that you were the ripe age of 15 years old. You and Spencer spent a lot of time together, having become best friends over the years. Little did you know, Spencer had developed a huge crush on you.

"Did I tell you that Taylor asked me to prom?" you suddenly announced, breaking the comfortable silence.

"Prom? You're a freshman. Who's Taylor?" Spencer asked, feeling a pang of something unfamiliar in his chest.

"They're a junior on the football team. They're really popular," you said, your excitement evident.

"Oh," Spencer muttered, trying to hide his disappointment.

"I thought you'd be excited for me… this is huge!" you exclaimed, leaning closer to him.

Spencer forced a smile, swallowing the lump in his throat. "Yeah, it's, um, great. I'm happy for you."

"Thanks, Spence," you said, your smile brightening as you reached over to give his arm a reassuring squeeze. 

Spencer's heart ached with unspoken feelings, but he didn’t feel happy for you, his best friend, but he’s become pretty good at hiding his emotions. As you continued to talk about prom and your plans, Spencer listened intently, offering his support and trying his best to mask the growing crush he harbored for you.

—

Spencer sat in the backseat, nervously clutching the seatbelt as you practiced driving with your mom in the passenger seat.

"Okay, ease into the gas," your mom instructed calmly.

"Got it," you replied, trying to focus on the road ahead.

Spencer couldn't help but chime in, "You're doing great, Y/N."

"Thanks, Spence," you said, glancing at him in the rearview mirror with a smile.

"Remember to check your mirrors before changing lanes," your mom added, her tone patient.

You nodded, following her advice. "How do you stay so calm back there, Spencer?"

"I'm used to being in high-stress situations," he said with a small chuckle. "This is nothing compared to some of my classes."

You laughed, the tension easing slightly. "Glad to know my driving isn't as terrifying as quantum mechanics."

Spencer smiled, "Not even close."

—

“Y/N? What’s wrong?” Spencer asked, concern evident in his voice as he saw you crying on your bed.

“Taylordumpedme!” you sobbed, the words tumbling out in a rush.

“What? I can’t understand what you’re saying. Take a deep breath,” Spencer urged gently, trying to calm you down.

You took a shaky breath and repeated, “Taylor dumped me.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” Spencer said, his heart aching for you.

“Now I can’t go to prom! This is so humiliating! Everyone knows! I told the entire cheer team I was going, now practice is going to be so awkward,” you wailed, burying your face in your hands.

Spencer moved closer, hesitating for a moment before putting a comforting hand on your shoulder. “Hey, it’s going to be okay. You don’t need Taylor to go to prom. You can still go when you’re a junior.”

You looked up at him, eyes red and puffy. “But that’s so far away, and it won’t be the same. I was so excited, and now it’s all ruined.”

“I’m sure you’ll get another date,” Spencer said gently, trying to reassure you.

“Spencer! They were my soulmate!” you cried out, fresh tears streaming down your face.

Spencer’s heart ached seeing you so upset. “I know it feels that way now, but you’re amazing, Y/N. If they didn’t see that, then they weren’t worth your time.”

“You don’t understand,” you sniffled. “Everyone was looking forward to seeing us together. I was looking forward to it.”

Spencer took a deep breath, trying to find the right words. “You’re right, I might not fully understand how you feel, but I do know that you’re stronger than you think. And I’ll be right here with you, no matter what.”

You sighed, wiping your tears. “Thanks, Spencer. You always know what to say.”

He gave you a small, supportive smile. “That’s what friends are for.”

“I love you, Spence,” you said, wrapping your arms around him in a tight hug.

“I—I love you too,” Spencer replied, his voice a bit shaky. More than you know, he thought silently, his heart pounding in his chest.

As you clung to him, finding comfort in his presence, Spencer closed his eyes, savoring the moment despite the circumstances. He wished he could tell you everything, how his feelings for you had grown far beyond friendship. But for now, he held you close, hoping his embrace could convey the depth of his affection.

You pulled back slightly, looking up at him with a soft smile. “Thank you for being here for me. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Spencer brushed a tear from your cheek, his touch gentle. “You don’t have to worry about that. I’m not going anywhere.”

You leaned your head on his shoulder, feeling a bit of the weight lift from your heart. With Spencer by your side, you knew you could face anything, even a heartbreak as painful as this one.

—

Spencer got his license before you, which meant he became your unofficial chauffeur using the car your mom saved for you. Whether it was taking you to the movies, dinner, the mall, salon appointments, or wherever else you needed to go, Spencer was always there, ready to help. He was basically your boyfriend in every way that mattered, and yet, you were still dating a string of different people.

Being an objectively attractive, nice, and smart cheerleader, you had no shortage of admirers. People were practically banging down your door to date you. Whenever one person would dump you, Spencer was always there to comfort you. You’d lean on him, cry on his shoulder, and he’d offer kind words and hugs. And then, just days later, you’d have a new partner, and the cycle would begin again.

Spencer watched it all with a mixture of heartache and resignation. He knew you were dealing with your own issues, much like he was. Both of you shared similar experiences with distant or absent fathers, but while Spencer’s response had been to seek stability and comfort in his studies, yours had been to never allow yourself to be single.

One evening, after yet another breakup, Spencer drove you home from the mall. The car was filled with the sound of your quiet sniffles and the hum of the engine. He glanced over at you, his heart aching for you once again.

“You okay?” he asked softly, his voice filled with concern.

You shrugged, wiping away a tear. “I’ll be fine. I just don’t understand why it keeps happening.”

Spencer wanted to tell you that you deserved better, that these fleeting relationships weren’t enough for someone as amazing as you. But he held back, afraid of crossing a line. “You know I’m here for you, right? Always.”

You gave him a small, sad smile. “I know, Spence. You’re the best. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

As he pulled up to your house, you reached over and squeezed his hand. “Thanks for everything. Really.”

Spencer squeezed back, wishing he could do more. “Anytime. You know where to find me.”

You leaned over and gave him a quick hug before getting out of the car. As you walked up to your front door, Spencer sat there for a moment, watching you. He sighed, knowing that no matter how many people you dated, he’d always be there, waiting in the wings, ready to catch you when you fell.

But deep down, he couldn’t help but hope that one day, you’d see him as more than just a friend. One day, maybe, you’d realize that the person who had always been there for you, who had always loved you, was right in front of you all along. He turned on You Belong With Me and drove back to the dorms. (let's pretend this song had already come out)

—

Towards the end of the year, you excitedly announced to Spencer that you were in "a serious relationship this time, Spence." He wanted to believe you, but given your track record of fleeting romances, he couldn't help but harbor some doubts. However, as the relationship lasted a whole month, he began to think maybe this time was different.

Since you turned 16, you no longer needed Spencer to drive you around, but now your new partner, Avery, had taken over that role. Spencer couldn't help but feel replaced. You were always too busy to hang out, spending all your free time with Avery. It left Spencer feeling a pang of loneliness and jealousy he couldn't quite shake.

In June, Jan threw Spencer a graduation party to celebrate him finishing his undergraduate degree. It was a big milestone, and Spencer was looking forward to celebrating with the people he cared about. You showed up with Avery, who you had now been with for two months, and it felt like a punch to the gut for Spencer when you spent the entire party with them.

When you finally introduced Avery to Spencer, he couldn't help but feel a surge of resentment. Avery was polite, but Spencer's responses were curt and distant.

"Avery, this is Spencer. My best friend," you said, smiling brightly.

"Nice to meet you, Spencer. Y/N's told me a lot about you," Avery said, extending a hand.

Spencer didn’t take their hand, just ignored it until Avery awkwardly put it back down. "Nice to meet you too," he said, his tone lacking enthusiasm.

The tension was palpable, and you quickly picked up on it. After Avery walked away to get a drink, you turned to Spencer with a frown. "What's your problem, Spencer?"

Spencer, not Spence. "I don't have a problem," Spencer replied, avoiding your gaze.

"Clearly, you do," you said, crossing your arms. "You've been ignoring me all night, and you were so rude to Avery."

Spencer sighed, trying to keep his emotions in check. "It's just... I feel like you've forgotten about me. You're always with Avery now. We never hang out anymore."

You softened slightly, realizing the impact your new relationship had on Spencer. "Spence, I didn't mean to make you feel that way. Avery's important to me, but so are you."

"It doesn't feel like it," he muttered, looking away.

"That's not fair," you snapped, frustration bubbling up. "You know how much you mean to me, Spencer."

"Do I? Because it sure feels like I've been replaced," he shot back, his voice tinged with bitterness.

You stared at him, hurt and anger mixing in your eyes. "That's not true. I'm sorry if it seems that way, but I care about you both. Can't you just be happy for me?"

Spencer took a deep breath, trying to quell the storm of emotions inside him. "I want to be happy for you, Y/N. I really do. But it's hard when I feel like I'm losing my best friend."

You sighed, your shoulders slumping. "You're not losing me, Spence. I promise. I'll make more time for us. Just... try to get to know Avery. They make me happy."

Spencer nodded reluctantly. "Okay. I'll try."

You gave him a small, hopeful smile. "Thank you."

The party continued, but the argument lingered in the back of both your minds. It was a reminder that even the closest friendships could be tested by change. But you were determined to find a balance, to prove to Spencer that no matter what, he would always be an important part of your life.

—

It was Spencer's last night before he would move away to a different state, preparing to settle in during the summer before starting his master's program. You had promised to hang out, making plans for one final evening together. However, as Spencer rode up to your house on his bike and saw Avery's car parked in the driveway, it was clear that you had forgotten.

Feeling an overwhelming surge of emotions, with rage at the forefront of his teenage hormones, Spencer sped off, pedaling furiously down the streets. He couldn't believe you had chosen Avery over him on the one night that mattered most. 

Back at his packed up door, Spencer's mind raced with thoughts of betrayal and heartbreak. He sat down at his computer, the anger and hurt boiling over into his fingertips as he began to type. Words flowed out, raw and unfiltered, forming an emotional email that laid bare everything he had been holding inside.

Subject: Goodbye

Y/N,

I can't believe you forgot about tonight. Our last night together before I leave, and you chose to be with Avery instead. I don't even know where to start. This hurts more than I can put into words, but I'm going to try.

I’ve been your best friend for years. I've been there through every breakup, every tear, every moment you needed someone. I thought tonight would be different. I thought you would be there for me, just this once, when it really mattered. 

Seeing Avery's car in your driveway tonight felt like a slap in the face. It's like I've been replaced, and maybe I have. I always tried to be supportive of your relationships, even when it hurt to watch you with someone else. But this time, it's different. This time, it's unbearable.

I've been hiding my feelings for you for so long, afraid that telling you would ruin everything. But now, I feel like I've got nothing left to lose. I love you, Y/N. More than just a friend, more than anything. It's been torture watching you date all these people, knowing that none of them could ever love you like I do.

I don't know what I'm expecting by sending this. Maybe nothing. Maybe just to let you know how much you've hurt me. Maybe to let you know that I’m leaving with a broken heart. I don't know if we'll ever be the same after this, and maybe that's for the best. But you deserve to know the truth, even if it changes nothing.

Goodbye, Y/N. I hope Avery is worth it.

Spencer

He hit send before he could think twice, the weight of his words hanging heavily in the air. As he lay in bed that night, staring at the ceiling, Spencer wondered if he had just ruined everything or if, somehow, things might finally change for the better. Either way, there was no turning back now.

—

You didn't see Spencer's email until the next morning. As your eyes scanned the words, your heart dropped to your stomach. He loved you? Avery had been at your house the previous night to break up with you, not to spend time together. Panic set in as you called Spencer over and over, but he never answered. You hadn't even realized what day it was.

Knowing Spencer's plane didn't leave until the evening, you threw on some shoes over your pajamas and ran out of the house, your hair still messy from sleep. You drove as fast as you could to Spencer's dorm. When you got there, you used the trick Spencer had taught you to sneak past the security-locked doors and ran up the stairs to his floor.

You banged repeatedly on his door, your heart pounding in your chest. Finally, the door opened, and there stood Spencer, looking surprised and confused.

“What? Y/N? What are you doing here?” he asked, his voice tinged with irritation.

“I’m so sorry I forgot about last night,” you said breathlessly.

“You saw my email?” Spencer's face hardened, a mix of vulnerability and anger in his eyes.

“Yeah. I’m so, so sorry, Spencer. I’m the worst friend in the world. Avery was only over to dump me anyway,” you explained, tears starting to form in your eyes.

Spencer stared at you, his emotions warring on his face. “So you only remembered me because Avery dumped you?” he asked, his voice breaking slightly.

“No! It’s not like that, Spencer. I was planning to spend the night with you, but I got caught up in everything and lost track of time. You’re so important to me,” you said, stepping closer.

He looked away, his jaw clenched. “It doesn’t change the fact that I was an afterthought, Y/N. You’ve been so wrapped up in your relationships that you’ve forgotten about the one constant in your life.”

You reached out, touching his arm gently. “You’re right. I have been a terrible friend. But I don’t want to lose you, Spencer. You mean the world to me. Can we talk? Please?”

Spencer took a deep breath, his eyes meeting yours. “Okay. Let’s talk,” he said, stepping aside to let you into his dorm room.

As you entered, you felt a surge of relief and fear. This conversation could change everything, and you hoped with all your heart that it would be for the better.

You stepped into Spencer's dorm room, the door closing behind you with a soft click. The room was filled with packed boxes and the sense of imminent departure. You both sat on the edge of his bed, the air thick with unspoken words.

“Spencer, I’m really sorry,” you began, your voice trembling. “I’ve been so caught up in my own world that I haven’t been a good friend to you. I never realized how much I was hurting you.”

Spencer looked at you, his eyes full of pain. “Y/N, I’ve always been there for you. Every time you got hurt, every time you needed someone. And I was happy to do it because I love you. But seeing you with all those people, knowing I was just your fallback, it hurt. A lot.”

You nodded, tears welling up in your eyes. “I know. And I’m so sorry. I never meant to make you feel like that. I care about you so much, Spencer. You’re my best friend.”

“Best friend,” Spencer repeated, his voice hollow. “That’s all I’ve ever been to you, isn’t it?”

You shook your head. “No, Spencer, you’re more than that. You mean everything to me.”

Spencer’s expression softened slightly, and he moved closer. “Do you really mean that?”

You nodded, feeling the weight of your words. “Yes, I do.”

Without warning, Spencer leaned in and kissed you, his lips soft and hesitant against yours. For a moment, you froze, taken aback by the sudden intimacy. Then you pulled back, your heart racing.

“Spencer, I—” you started, but he cut you off.

“You don’t see me like that, do you?” he asked, his voice cracking. “You don’t love me the way I love you.”

“Spencer… that was my first kiss,” you said softly.

“What?” Spencer's eyes widened in surprise.

“Mhm,” you nodded, a small smile playing on your lips.

“But you’ve had so many partners!” he exclaimed, trying to make sense of it.

“I never kissed them,” you admitted, your smile growing.

“Why?” Spencer asked, bewildered.

“They were never you,” you replied, your eyes locking with his, filled with sincerity and emotion.

Spencer stared at you, his mind racing to comprehend what you had just revealed. "But why me?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper, filled with hope and disbelief.

"Because, Spencer," you began, taking a step closer to him. "No one else ever made me feel the way you do. You were always there for me, always caring, always understanding. I guess I was selfish… and scared to ruin what we had, so I kept my distance in that way. But now I realize how much I’ve hurt you, and missed out on by not telling you sooner."

Spencer’s heart pounded in his chest as he processed your words. "I thought I was just your fallback, the one you turned to when things went wrong with others."

"You were never just a fallback," you insisted, your voice firm. "You’ve always been so much more than that. I was just too afraid to admit it, even to myself."

“So what do we do now?” Spencer asked, his eyes filled with uncertainty.

“Well, you’re leaving…” you began, your voice tinged with sadness.

“I know,” he said, looking down.

“But… we have email, and phones, and we can write letters!” you said, your tone growing more hopeful.

“You’d be willing to do long distance, for me?” Spencer asked, his eyes big and full of love.

“I’d do anything for you, Spencer,” you replied sincerely, taking his hand in yours.

“I’m so glad Avery dumped you,” Spencer said, a mischievous smile playing on his lips.

“That’s so rude,” you laughed, feeling the weight of past hurt lifting, “but I don’t care. I love you.”

“I love you too,” Spencer replied, his eyes shining with emotion.

—

Two years later, you graduated high school and Spencer was well into his PhD programs. You had stayed true to your commitment to each other, maintaining a long-distance relationship through countless emails, phone calls, and handwritten letters that kept your bond strong. The distance had only made your connection deeper, and your love grew with each passing day.

When you got a job in the city where Spencer was studying, you moved in together, transforming your shared space into a home filled with warmth, laughter, and countless books. Still in love, still best friends, you navigated the challenges of life together.

Your late-night study sessions turned into heartfelt conversations, your shared meals became cherished moments, and your weekends were filled with adventures and quiet times alike. As you sat together on the couch, wrapped up in each other, you both knew that this was just the beginning of your long life together.

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tag list <333 @spencerreidsreads @sapph1re @idefktbh17 @dirtytissuebox @yokaimoon @reggieswriter @loumouse @mentallyunwellsposts @time-himself @chaneladdicted @kathrynlakestone @furrybouquettrash @hearts4spensco @gilwm @khxna @charismatic-writer @lilu842 @greatoperawombategg

[endlessthxxghts]

Animals

DBF!joel miller x afab!reader || W/C: ≈2.5k

Summary: Joel randomly calls you and tells you to meet him outside. Your parents are home though, and you can't necessarily tell them that Joel, your father's best friend, is asking you to go with him somewhere. Do you give a little white lie and leave, or do you wait until it's safer?

Warnings: Age gap (unspecified, but legal). Reader still lives with parents but she is an adult. Nosy and controlling ass parents to their child who's a grown ass adult. SMUT 18+ MDNI. Inappropriate car activities while driving. Handjob. Blowjob. Pulling into a parking lot in broad daylight to do some stuff... P in V unprotected. ✨Save a horse, ride a cowboy (in a parking lot)✨ Reader has bit of a size kink. Cum swallowing... Is there a term for kissing with semen in both y'all's mouths??? (Don't look at me...). Possessive kink. Spanking (just once though). Getting caught... Exhibitionism...😵‍💫 I think that’s as much as I can say without spoiling anything, so! After you read it, let me know if there’s anything that I should put in here that I missed out on!

A/N: One of my all-time favorite songs is Animals by Nickelback. As of lately, though, with all my Joel brain rot, I can't NOT think DBF!Joel every time I play it... so... here we are... I recommend listening before or when you read, just to really add to the experience hehehe.😈 @javierpena-inatacvest I hope you’re hungry!😋 Enjoy, y’all!!!

MASTERLIST

You’re beside me on the seat,

Got your hand between my knees,

And you control how fast we go by just how hard you wanna squeeze.

“Two minutes, get your ass outside.”

Your eyes nearly pop out of your head. You blindly brought your phone up to your ear with your parents in the room with you, not taking the time to check the caller ID. 

“I-” you start as you head to the bathroom, not wanting your parents to overhear anything. “I can’t just leave right now, and especially not with you.” He scoffs over the phone. “I was at the dining table with my parents, jackass.” 

“But you’re not anymore, right?” 

“No.”

“And they didn’t question you?”

“Didn’t give them the chance to.”

“Just get out here. I’ll drive off quick, no one will see,” he states matter-of-factly.

“Joel,” you say, your tone betraying your logical responses.

“Now,” he says before ending the call. 

Your heart racing, you peer at yourself in the mirror, making sure you look semi-presentable even though you know Joel’s intentions are going to ruin your appearance anyway. You leave the bathroom, heading for the front door as fast as possible. 

“Who called ya?” your dad asked. 

“Going somewhere?” your mother followed.

“Just a friend. And I’m gonna step out real quick, I’ll be back in a bit,” you say nonchalantly, not trying to raise any suspicion. Your mother raises her brow at you. 

“I really hope you both find the value in respecting people’s privacy,” you say, stepping out the front door as you speak, erasing the chances of any further commentary. That may have come across more harsh than you would have liked, but even into adulthood, the three of you have gotten into huge fights for your whereabouts. It’s not like you left them in the dark all the time or kept them up late waiting for you to get home. You were living under their roof, so you still respected their time. Yet, it was never enough. And you were too wound up thinking about Joel to bite your tongue.

He parked a house away, and you’re practically running at the speed of light to get into the passenger side so he can pull away before your parents decide to make it to the window to gain any more information they can. 

As soon as you get into the passenger seat, though, Joel has different plans as he immediately puts one hand around your waist and the other on the thigh closest to him. You’re barely able to shut the door before he pulls you into the middle of the bench seat of his truck, your body flushed against his. You squeak out at his quickness, his strength. He smirks at it. 

He lets his hand on your thigh drag up your body and situate itself on your jaw, turning your face to his and kissing you deeply, all tongue and teeth and thickened spit due to how fucking turned on both of you are. 

You pull away, breathless, “Baby, you need to drive off, now.”

“Shit, sorry,” he says, releasing his hold on you. “Stop distractin’ me,” he playfully scolds, a smile full of trouble across his face as he pulls out of the neighborhood. 

You scoff at him now, perplexed at his audacity to tell you that you’re distracting him. It makes an idea pop in your head. You’ll show him a distraction. 

You shift your body to face him. Your hand lands on his thigh, running up and down lightly, getting closer to his hardened bulge that’s been begging for your attention since he dialed your number. 

His grip on the wheel tightens, his jaw twitching, “Darlin’,” he grits. “What are you doin’?”

“Oh, nothing,” you say as you lean in closer, licking a stripe up his neck, your mouth at his ear. “Just,” you cup his erection, “being a distraction.”

His hips push up into your hand. He is painfully hard right now, his entire neck and face a bright red from your ministrations. You unzip his jeans, pulling it and his underwear down to let his cock free. You moan at the sight.

“I’m warnin’ you, girl.”

“Want me to stop?” 

Silence. 

He moves his arm closest to you to sprawl along the back of the bench seat, giving you complete access to him as he attempts to drive you two to God knows where. 

You scoot closer in, and let out a content giggle. You place a wet kiss at his pulse point, whispering in his ear, “Thought so, baby.”

You bring your hand up to your mouth and let your spit pool in your hand, bringing it back down to his length, spreading it all over before you wrap your fingers around him.

“Joel, baby, fuck-” you moan in his ear as you slowly begin pumping him, “look how fucking big you are in my hands,” you whine. “Can barely wrap my hand around you,” you say as you nip at his neck again. 

Joel begs his eyes to stay on the road, knowing that if he were to look down right now, he’d lose every ounce of his control — on both his self restraint and his damn truck. But, God damn, the slapping sound of your hand on his spit-soaked cock as you whine and writhe at his side has him desperate. He glances down for barely a millisecond, and he can’t help the groan that leaves his throat, his head threatening to throw itself back in utter pleasure. 

“Am I doing good, baby?” You ask him. “A good distraction?” You add, your lips ghosting his jaw with each syllable. 

“F-fuckin H-hell, baby,” he stutters, hips softly meeting every push and pull of your hand. “G-gonna make me c-crash this f-fuckin’ car.” 

With his admission, your grip gets a little tighter, pumps get a little faster, and you're giving extra attention to the head of his cock. He’s pulsing beneath you, breathing erratic, and you can’t stop the urge to lean down and take him into your mouth. 

On instinct, Joel’s foot falls a little heavier on the gas, causing him to drive a little roughly over a bump on the road. His dick pushes deeper into your mouth, causing the tip to hit at the back of your throat. 

The spit that forms from your gag reflex gives you an easier ability to devour him just as he likes—warm, wet, and sloppy. Your head begins to bob faster, your hand still supporting the base of him as you periodically cup him below, and he’s an absolute mess. 

You pull away for one moment in a choked breath, your hand now jacking him off, and you look up at him through your eyelashes. 

“I know you’re close, baby, I feel it,” you gasp out as your hand squeezes a little more, at the pressure you know makes him break. “Need you to cum, baby, need you to fill my fucking throat,” and with that, your mouth is back on him. 

“Oh, f-fu-…” Joel nearly growls out, immediately pulling into some random parking lot, thankful the nearest slot was empty. The second the car is in park, he’s shooting his load down your throat, his hand flying to the back of your head to keep you stuffed full of him. 

The way that you’re so turned on right now just by giving him the sloppiest head he has ever experienced has you absolutely dripping—an absolute moaning mess, vibrating him into overstimulation. He pulls you off, and you can’t help the blissed out smirk that forms on your face as you swallow almost everything he gave you, residue dripping down your chin. 

He brings your face to his, and his tongue collects up his own spend, feeding it back to you in a desperate, sloppy kiss—if you can even call it that. 

As your lips tangle in a nasty embrace, he’s quick to rip your bottoms off as he settles you on his lap. The feel on your pussy of his spent cock slowly getting erect again has you moaning into his mouth, your hips grinding down onto him, arousal coating him, urging him back to his full, hard length. 

“Sh-shit,” falls from your mouth as his trails further down, leaving kisses down your throat. Joel brings his hand down to pump himself a few more times, ensuring he’s at full attention. Your hips lift up on instinct, Joel notching his tip at your soaking entrance. 

You lower yourself onto him, going in with ease with how wet both you and him are, the stretch of him still providing that delicious burn. No matter how prepared or lubed up either of you are, that burn will never go away. You never want it to. It flips a certain switch of lust within you—an animalistic need—knowing just how fucking big he is, knowing that it’s all for you. 

Usually when you’re on top, he’s extra sensitive, and you wait for him to give the signal for you to move. That need is there, though, and you can’t wait. As soon as your hips are flushed with his, you’re immediately lifting back up and dropping down on him again, maintaining a brutal pace that has you both uttering incoherent filth. 

You place your hands on either side of his head, gripping the back of his seat to give you better momentum as you bounce on him. His hands are gripping at the globes of your ass, guiding your movements, fingertip-shaped bruises threatening to form. “Fuck, sweet girl,” he lets out, “just like that, baby.” His face is nuzzled in between your breasts, nipping and licking at them with every bounce of your thrusts. 

His words cause your pussy to flutter, a possessive feeling gliding down your spine. Your one hand releases the chair and grasps at the curls on the base of his neck. “T-tell me,” you stutter, “t-tell me who my p-pussy belongs to,” you get out, licking into his mouth before you let him answer. 

His hips begin to meet your movements, his pubic bone providing the cherry on top to unravel you. His lips are against yours, breaths intertwining into the thick air, windows beginning to fog. “Mine,” Joel growls. Your hips speed up, the truck shaking and squeaking with every movement. “This pussy is mine. You,” he breathes, “are fuckin’ mine,” a stinging pain fills your senses before your brain registers the slap to your ass. 

Your thighs begin to shake and your body goes rigid, your climax teetering against the edge. 

“Joel,” you cry out. 

“I’ve got you, pretty girl, let go for me,” he coos. And just as he’s about to hold you down to fuck up into you, a car parks right next to you, door immediately slamming as the person gets out and urgently peers into the driver’s side window. 

Both of you are too close to stop your movements, the person’s face outside the car falling into pure horror and shock at what’s going on inside. 

“Oh!” you scream out, both of you using all your strength to stop but unable to.

“That’s my dad outside the car!”

Oh please, the keys, they’re not in the ignition,

Must have wound up on the floor while we were switching our positions. 

Before you know it, you’re pulsing around his cock as he fills up another one of your holes with thick, hot ropes of his cum. 

Neither of you realize just when your father scrambled back into his car and drove away, but the idea of getting caught turned both of you on more than you’d ever admit. 

You don’t get off of him just yet, both of you sitting in each other’s sweaty embrace as you let your breathing and heart rates return to normal. 

“So…” he says, rubbing circles on the small of your back. 

You look up at him, chin perched on his chest. “So,” you giggle. 

“What the fuck do we do?” he asks, wordlessly referring to the mishap with your father.

Not as worried, you mess with him before giving a serious answer. “Mmm,” you say as you place a light kiss to his chest, “I was thinking you give me your boxers since you ripped the only bottoms I have on me, and you deal with the jeans chafing your balls until you get back home.”

His eyes go wide, completely forgetting that he did that, and silently cursing himself for doing something so stupid. Luckily he decided to actually wear underwear today.

“Oh, fuck, baby, I’m so sorry, I just-” he pauses for a moment. “You fuckin’ distracted me!” he says before he completely busts out in laughter, a deep howl filling the car. You smack his chest, your laughter following suit. 

“You motherfucker,” you say, sitting up a little straighter, pulling him in for a chaste kiss. 

He smiles at you, pure warmth and adoration in his eyes. He clears his throat, his face a little more serious. “I, uh, I was actually talkin’ about your old man, though.”

“I know,” you say, completely unbothered.

“Are you not worried?”

You shrug your shoulders. “No.”

“You don’t think he’s gonna try and wring my neck out?”

“Baby,” you laugh, “no, he’s not gonna wring your neck out. I wouldn’t let him, anyway.”

“Oh, gee. Thanks,” he deadpans.

“I promise you, I’ve got it taken care of.”

His fingers grasp your chin, pulling you in for another kiss, a little longer than the last. “I trust you.”

As soon as you enter the front door, you see both your parents at the dining table again. Though, this time around, instead of controlling and angry, they look pale and embarrassed. 

You stroll to the dining table, not caring to sit down, and you get straight to the point. They can’t even look you in the eye. 

“So? Did we learn our lesson about-”

“Yes,” your parents say in unison, “please just,” your mother continues as your dad starts to retreat anywhere else but here. “Let’s not talk about it.”

You can’t help the laugh that bubbles in your chest. 

“You’re a grown woman,” your mother says, rigidly. “It’s really not our business what you do anymore.” You peer at your father. He throws a thumbs up at your mother’s words, eyes still trained on everything else but you. 

“Glad ya guys came to your senses,” you say, offering a smug smile. You can’t help it. If catching you having the steamiest sex in an older man’s car is what causes them to stop breathing down your neck, then so be it. You’d have intentionally done something like this ages ago if that’s what it took. 

You start heading to your room when your dad finally speaks. Still unable to look you in the eyes. “Tell Joel I don’t give a fuck what he does—what y’all do—just,” he pauses to take a breath. “Tell him not to address any of this with me. Ever.”

“Deal.”

No, no matter where we go,

‘Cause everybody knows,

We’re just a couple animals. 

End Note: Well. That killed me. The amount of laps I took writing this...🥴 Thank you all so much for reading! Likes, comments, reblogs, etc, — all your support means the absolute world to me. I wouldn’t be able to do this without all of you. Thank you so so so much. There are genuinely not enough words to express my gratitude. As always feedback for my stories (at a technical sense) is also super super helpful whether it is constructive or positive! Anything helps me to be the best writer that I can be. All my love! Xo

Tags: @javierpena-inatacvest @katiexpunk @farmerlarrry @mellymbee @jobee403 @soavenuepenguin @rainbowcosmicchaos @untamedheart81 @babygal-babygal @pedritoferg @akah565 @pedrostories

EDIT: As of the new year 2024, I no longer do taglists!! Follow @endlessthxxghtsnotifs and turn on the notifications to be updated when new stories come out!!

[klausysworld]

Hey so i was wondering if maybe you could possibly write me a smutty story with Klaus like about how even though he turned me made me a hybrid or vampire now he still wants to celebrate my birthday? My birthday is on the 29th of August so its literally 4 days away id love that

Happy Birthday, Sweetheart.

Turning wasn't something I had intended to do or wanted really, it was out of necessity that Klaus had given me his blood and it was an accident that I died with it in my system.

Klaus had convinced me to complete the transition, promising to be there with me and for me throughout the highs and lows of vampirism.

In all fairness, he had been with me but sometimes the lows were really low. Especially when it came round to my supposed to be birthday. However I was never going to get older again, there was no point in blowing out some silly candles and making a wish that would never come true. I couldn't celebrate that I was a year closer to any major life event or be able to talk about stupid things like a slight pay rise as I get older.

So when I woke up, and checked to see the dreaded date, I didn't bother getting out of bed. Well not until I felt an arm round my waist, pulling me back against a firm body. My eyes cracked open when his deep voice rumbled from behind my ear.

"Happy birthday, sweetheart." He muttered, a kiss pressed to the back of my ear and then my cheek before I was rolled over to face him. My face was level with his as he brushed the tip of his nose over mine and I groaned.

"Can we just not?" I mumbled, my voice croaky from sleep but I knew he got it as his brows pulled together and his eyes crinkled ever so slightly at the edges.

"No, we definitely will." He argued, his face returning to relaxed again as he pecked my lips. "Believe it or not but we all still celebrate our birthdays, Rebekah insists upon it."

"Were calendars even a thing back then?" I ask, still just about coherent and he hummed.

"No...but we had our ways to know...or perhaps we simply chose our birthdays a few years down the line. Nevertheless we celebrate and I refuse to let you go without." He whispered, kissing my temple and offering a smile.

"I've been here ages and haven't seen any of your birthdays, you're lying." I murmured, eyes narrowed.

"Well..." He sighed, a click to his tongue. "We celebrate as often as we can, the past couple months or so have been very complicated to say the least."

"Fine but I better see you with a birthday hat and badge on- when was your birthday?" I question and he sighed.

"March time. Doesn't matter, it isn't about me. This is about you. Now come, the festivities have only just began." He teased before both arms were hoisting me up and over his shoulder like a rag doll making me whine.

"Klaus!" I squirmed but only for a second, I wasn't awake enough to fight him. His hand patted my ass playfully as he carried me out of our room, making my body tense but he shushed me.

"I won't let anyone see this pretty little behind of yours." He chuckled, bringing me down the stairs and spinning me round and placing me on the breakfast stool. My head spun a little, attempting to adjust as a warm plate was placed in front of me by a softly smiling Elijah.

"Congratulations on your birthday, Y/N." He uttered, keeping his voice quiet which I appreciated before Rebekah's voice bellowed out.

"For christs sake Elijah! Just say normal things like 'happy birthday'!" She tutted, rolling her eyes and dropping down beside me. "Happy birthday, darling. It'll be spectacularly, I guarantee." She grinned and I could feel the dread forming as I pushed a smile to my face and bit the end of some bacon to keep my mouth preoccupied so I wouldn't have to find any words to keep the magic of my fantastic birthday alive.

Klaus's hand ruffled my hair, his chuckle a distant sound in the air as he left the room. My head turned to find him but Rebekah was nudging my side.

"Don't look, he's going to get your presents. Keep eating, and try to contain your excitement." She practically bounced beside me, smile brighter than ever as she pulled out a party horn and blew it in my face.

Just seconds later an elastic band snapped under my chin, a card hat on top my head and Hayley kissing my cheek before catching my ear. "Just go with it, it'll get better." She whispered and I listened.

By the time I had finished my breakfast, Klaus was behind me.

I had just slipped off the stool, Elijah had already taken my plate and when I turned around there was an array of differently shaped and sized presents wrapped and displayed across the room. Klaus standing infront of them, slowly coming towards me with a hand outstretched.

I took it after a second and let him lead me over, arms going round me from behind as he lifted the first gift to my hands. "Please...just enjoy yourself." He whispered, nose in my neck.

Presents took a while. By the end I couldn't be upset. Klaus knew me like an open book and had hit every mark possible. Bringing me to tears several times with extra special gifts.

Which was why my face was buried in his chest, eyes closed and fingers curled around his henley as he kissed the top of my head.

I found myself back upstairs soon after, stripped bare and soaking peacefully in the bathtub whilst Rebekah and Hayley yelled through the next room, going on about the party they had planned.

The dress Rebekah had designed fit like a glove and I couldn't deny how beautiful I felt in it, especially once the girls had done my hair and makeup.

"Everything's perfect." Bekah uttered, hands fixing the last few strands and checking the hairspray had set.

"Klaus is gonna go crazy." Hayley whistled and my eyes rolled though a smile pulled at my face.

They were right too, he was all over me as soon as I got to the bottom of the staircase. Lips kissing mine and hands on my hips, gripping them like he usually does in the depths of our room.

"Happy birthday, my love." He whispered and I hummed before adjusting his bowtie.

"You are adorable when you dress up." I teased and he smirked.

"You may never cease to surprise me with your...unique compliments for me." He chuckled and I hummed, kissing him again.

"Lets go dance." I whispered and he shook his head with a grin.

"Birthday toasts, my love." He told me and I groaned softly as I pulled him over to where everyone was spinning each other around happily. He relented of course and gave into a few dances before pulling me onto the stair case and having me held to his side whilst he toasted my birthday before his siblings and Hayley followed. All expressing their appreciation and love for me.

It was quite lovely actually. I was glad to have celebrated my birthday when I hugged each of them before we all got back on the floor.

So many people had brought me gifts, said such kind words and I had to wonder if they were compelled but I didn't even care by the end of the day when Klaus had me held against the wall. Mouth on my neck, sucking his beautiful marks into my skin and hands bunching up my dress.

I could still hear the music and chatter of guests just a wall over as his fingers stroked their way up my thighs. I could feel the warmth spreading through my body. I clung onto his suit jacket, tugging relentlessly with need as I tried to contain the moans that clawed up my throat.

A gasp escaped me as his teeth bit my skin, not his vampire teeth but his human ones. Not quite making me bleed but still breaking the skin.

I tried to pull him closer, my legs pulling at his waist letting me feel how hard he was against me.

"Oh god" I breathed, my eyes looking down quickly but all I could see was dress as he ground himself against me.

"You have no idea how badly I want to take you right now." He whispered and I moaned softly.

"God..yes, do it." I begged and he hummed.

"Not yet...you need your gift." He muttered before he was holding the backs of my thighs tightly. I glanced at him, confused before groaning softly as he got down to his knees and placed both my legs over his shoulders.

"Klaus..." I whispered as his head was completely covered by the skirt of my dress.

Despite not being able to see him, there was absolutely no doubt he was there as the heat of his treasured mouth kissed my wetness through my thong. God he was good, he was always so good.

If euphoria were a person, it would be Klaus.

He knew exactly what to do, how to touch, how to love me so good that I love myself too.

My hands pressed to the walls around and my head went back to rest. He was pure heat between my legs and he made my legs shake against my will.

"One day you're gonna really kill me." I whispered, my words a blur as I felt my back arch off of the wall behind. I could feel his lips move against my cunt as he mumbled something back. The wet vibrations of his mouth making my insides twist delightfully. "God- fuck!" I cried as he chuckled, only adding to the intensity.

A laugh escaped him whilst he pulled his face away though my dress still hid him from my view.

"You'll alert the whole party if you keep screaming sweetheart." He reminded and I nodded in acknowledgment. My mouth closed in an attempt to muffle my sounds as the warm touch of his fingers stroked my pussy tauntingly.

I felt blood pool my mouth when my fangs sunk into my own tongue in time with his fingers plunging inside me. He made my nails penetrate my palms; a shiver to run down my spine.

My mind drew a blank at the methodic pump of his fingers, each curl and stroke hitting so unbelievably perfect that I seemed to be falling apart before he'd truly even started.

His laugh was amused and teasing as my legs were dropped to his waist where both his hands grabbed my thighs.

"I'm very serious when I tell you that the entirety of next door just heard you my love." He grinned before lifting my as he got to his feet and carried me to our room.

I was dropped to the bed with a soft thud, his body covering me like a blanket would as he nuzzled beneath my ear. "You know...I sincerely considered wearing a ribbon for you, my love." He murmured making me giggle at the idea.

"Oh yeah? Where would you have worn it?" I teased, my hands lifting to cup his face; my thumbs brushing over his stubble. "What part of you would I have gotten to unwrap." I whispered and a soft rumble travelled through his body.

No words left him as I felt my dress be tugged, a quick rough tug which caused a loud tear to sound through the room. I didn't have to look to know the extent of his damage, the cool air spreading down my front told me enough. His hands pulled the loose material away, leaving me completely bare beneath him. Open to him in all ways.

"Must you always break things?" I whined, despite not truly being annoyed.

"Oh love. I don't break things, I ruin them." He uttered, his words sharp on his tongue as his calloused hand stroked the side of my face. "Now lay back, my love, and let me ruin you."

I knew it wasn't a question but a demand and a demand that shot straight to my core.

The silence rang as I laid back, head against the pillows.

I accepted my fate wholeheartedly, and under no circumstances would I even consider skipping out on my birthday next year if I knew this was coming.

————————————————————————

You have no idea how sorry I am for this being so god damn late. I know it’s not my best, I hope it’s still something that can make you smile even just a little bit @nerdygamer829

[princessbrunette]

when lamb!reader had suggested a video call with jj instead of hanging out at her house, it felt simply preventative. she’d been having urges lately, feelings — ones she’s not used to feeling. sometimes when she was around jj, it was like her body had a brain of its own. an unholy and disgraceful brain that went against what she thought she was wishing. she was beginning to believe if they were to hang out in person one on one, she might act out of impulse to sate the desire that had built inside her.

you’d been feeling this way since he’d gifted you that stuffed lamb. he was technically just a friend, no different from the other pogues you’d been hanging out with since trying to find your feet in the obx — but there was a different sort of simmering tension you felt with him and only him. what started as annoying teasing and jabs became warm fluttering in your stomach and unholy thoughts about his hands and mouth. it was like he knew it too, jj always seemed to have this look in his eye, a curl to the corner of his mouth — like there was something about you on the tip of his tongue that he was withholding. it made you want to set yourself alight.

as the call sound rings on your screen, you ponder why you’d made your hair all pretty, and why you’d chosen your best white nightgown. it felt and looked innocent at best, but as much as you’d hate to admit it — the fact there was nothing beneath gave you a rush like no other.

your thoughts were interrupted by his handsome face on your screen.

“fancy seeing you here, lamb chop.” he smirks, that same knowing look in his eye that he always had. without thinking you fiddle with your cross necklace.

“didnt i tell you to stop calling me that?” you respond, feeling as though you hid the hitch in your throat pretty well.

“and why would i listen to you?” he jokes, shuffling in his desk chair — bedroom a mess in his background. you’re about to comment on it, tell him to tidy it on instinct to nag him but he speaks first. “lookin’ real good tonight. you get all pretty for me?”

something about the way he asks that sends heat to your lower regions, something that felt forbidden and wrong and yet addicting.

“i’m just wearing what i sleep in. i figured id check in with you before i get some rest.” it’s an attempt at sounding casual, something you’d clearly applied much time and thought to.

“you wear that to sleep? pan down for me real quick?” you hear him shuffle closer to the screen like he was really trying to get a good look, and without thinking you obey — showing him the white lace of your night gown, from the straps to the way it falls on your upper thigh. he chuckles with a quiet “mm.” sound, and you’re panning back to your face quickly — glancing subconsciously at the door, wondering what your mother might say if she saw you showing your night gown to a boy.

“thats real pretty lil lamb. like you.” you hate how smooth he was, how every compliment had heat rushing to your centre.

“no need to flatter me.” you shrug a shoulder, and he doesn’t miss the way your tits jostle a little at the movement. he even leans on his elbows at his desk, eyes pointed downward unabashedly.

“right, right so… little limbrey… talk me through your night time routine. i wanna step into your shoes for a lil bit.” he settles, always insanely good at making conversation from nothing. you purse your lips in thought, looking around your room.

“well… i showered, changed, and usually before bed i do something stimulating but relaxing to get me ready to sleep and tire me out.” you list, staring at the book going unread on your bedside table. he huffs a laugh through a smirk and his brows shoot up.

“oh yeah? you stimulate yourself? tell me more ‘bout that.” he jokes and you furrow your brows, adorably in his opinion.

“what do you mean?” you question and jj licks his lips, trying to hold himself back from laughing anymore but failing miserably.

“ah, i’m just playin’ with you babydoll— carry on.” he waves a hand but you’re curious now. perhaps you sensed there was some innuendo behind it, but you pushed anyway— your inner excitement getting the better of you. you shift on your bed to lay on your side, getting more comfortable.

“i wanna laugh too, tell me what it means?” you pout grumpily which makes him relent instantly.

“nah… i was just makin’ a joke about… you know… you playin’ with yourself. ‘lotta people do that before they sleep.” he dismisses, and usually you’d scold him or make a face — but tonight, you’re not sure what possesses you — you ask,

“do you?”

jj blinks in surprise at the question for a second.

“do…uh, well,” he coughs awkwardly and you already regret asking. you cast your eyes downwards. “yeah, i do. you don’t ever… indulge?”

you’re quick to shake your head, though you’re lying. you’ve tried a few times.

“its a sin.” the words are instinctual when they leave you, and it only deepens jj’s amused expression that forms once more across his handsome features.

“yeah uh, no shit honey. you gotta release sometimes though right? s’better that way… keeps the sinful activities at bay so you don’t go out n’make bad choices. preventative procedures n’all that shit.” he converses, scratching his temple — a habit you’d pick up on when he’s a tad nervous or apprehensive.

you’d never thought of it that way before, so you take a moment to stare into space — a rush of relief coming over you. he was right. it had to be better than going and sleeping around, surely.

“wow, that’s… uncharacteristically insightful.”

“i’on know what that means—”

“you’re right. i don’t feel so bad anymore.” you chime, looking rather elated. his smile returns and he tilts his head.

“yeah? so you do indulge?” he drags it out, like he wants to tease you but he doesn’t wanna push too hard and shut you down again. you bite your lip, mulling over his question.

“m’not great at it, but yes.” you try to remain prideful, sticking your nose up a little.

“comes with practice i guess. i’mma beat around the bush here — i’d say i know my way around lady parts pretty good so like, if you ever need any pointers… on how to… y’know, suppress your urges… i got’chu.” he tries to sound nonchalant, careful, even shrugs for added effect. what he doesn’t see, is your hand reaching blindly to your bedside table and turning the framed image of Jesus to be face down.

twenty minutes later, and you’re hot in the face with your back propped up against a load of frilly, fluffed pillows. the laptop sits between your spread legs, displaying your open glossy cunt centre screen, your fingers stroking circles over your throbbing bud as you try to suppress your whimpers.

“uh-huh, juuuuuust like that. you wanna try rubbin’ it up and down? or do you wanna stick to the whole circle thing.” beneath his desk, jj slowly rolls his fist over his cock. he felt kinda weird about it, but he didn’t wanna alert you to the fact he was helping himself too— thinking it might freak you out and make you call it a night.

“‘like it like this!” you squeak, being mindful of your volume. you knew the pain meds had likely knocked your mother out clean by now, but you could never be too careful. you buck your hips against your hand, and even through the quality of the video call jj can see the arousal pooling between your spread legs. you had no idea how needy you could be.

“god damn, mama— you needed this, huh?” he chuckles, but it’s kind and he’s not teasing, infact there’s a softness to it. an affection.

“mhmmm.” you release in a whine, and jj is thrilled. he loved that he got you like this, letting go of all your beliefs for a while, forgetting it all because your head is so hazy with pleasure.

“keep rubbing just like that, yeah? just like i’d do it.” he mutters the last part, but he knows you hear it when your eyes flutter open, hand slowing. shit. he didn’t want you to come to your senses about just how sinful this whole thing was— he was barely teaching anymore, more so talking you through it.

his eyes widen a tad and his own hand freezes. “shit, uh— sorry ‘bout that. that’s my bad, i got carried away.”

in a whisper, with furrowed brows like it pained your very being to ask, you come forth with “keep talking like that.”

it stuns him for a few second, and his thumb swipes over his tip again. “wait… for real?”

“unfortunately it’s…mmph— it’s the only thing that’s gonna get me there. i’m tired, jj… i just wanna… i wanna—”

“cum?” he tries to stop the grin by pressing his tongue to the corner of his mouth, and his expression softens when he sees the way you melt, more arousal dribbling from you.

“yeah.” you groan, causing jj to pout in faux sympathy.

“yeah? i got you mama. keep strokin’ that pretty thing. i’mma tell you right now, you’re missin’ out on this tongue. i could make you feel things you never thought you could feel. would make you cream so hard you’d have tears down them pretty cheeks. that what you wanna hear, lil lamb?”

“oh… oh god!” your toes clench, everything clenches.

“nah baby, it ain’t god. s’just me.”

[prone-to-fleeting-obsessions]

Dating Veritas Ratio hc's

Out of all the hsr men, I'd imagine he'd be the most irritated figuring out he has a crush

A crush? A stupid little manifestation of his irrational emotions???

He'll stew over it a while, picking it apart like the most complex of equations, his stoic expression not wavering

So what if he's around you often? So what if he unconsciously seeks you out, it doesn't mean anything...

He'll hammer that narrative over and over until it becomes truth, or as close to truth as his mind will allow

You'll act like a married couple, though

He'll scold you without any real irritation, eyes narrowing as he pulls you closer to just fix the problem himself

A leaf in your hair? Your sleeve unrolled? Coffee stain on your shirt?

Honestly, how could you be such a careless mess...

Wait, no. No don't go, you're his careless mess—

It'll become a new normal to just have him occasionally once over your appearance, looking for things he can fix and doing so without a word

He also takes it upon himself to make you a healthier and more rounded person

No you're not eating garbage calories for the third meal in a row, yes you are drinking a full glass of water as he reads you excerpts from his book on how quantum chemistry applies to theoretical engineering under Nous's 63rd law of imaginary quantum information science, and there will be a quiz after so pay attention

If asked about why he's often seen by your side, he'll usually answer with a glare and an insult, commenting on the lack of even borderline decent conversationalists around

You're probably not really going to get an actual confession out of him, because that would force him to admit defeat to those annoyingly persistent feelings that just won't leave him be

If you take the initiative of backing him into a corner, you get to watch him flounder a bit, an expression of agitation and a growing warmth throughout his whole body as he skirts the topic with overly complex excuses

He's a big fan of doing different things in the same space, talking isn't necessary

Occasionally, when he remembers you're still there, he'll glance up from his book to see how you're faring, before getting back into it

He has a bit of a staring problem, in a way

It's just that he's so up in his head often, usually easily loosing sight of his surroundings, and you just happen to be the most pleasing thing to keep his eyes on

He'll look away when he notices you staring back, but it's not long before you feel his eyes trained on you again, as if studying every little movement as he works out equations in his head

Of course he does need alone time, usually spent reading in the bath

But that period seems to be getting shorter and shorter as his focus is constantly broken by unconditionally looking around to find you while deep in thought

He will absolutely use you as a blank canvas to throw ideas and thoughts on if he can't work through something in his head

By explaining it to you in mind numbing detail, he'll usually run headfirst into the solution, and it's a treat to watch his eyes widen ever so slightly as he pauses, immediately thanking you curtly before moving straight to writing

Your sense of curiosity is his favorite trait, the one he wants to nurture and encourage you to feed

He's not expecting you to be as smart as him, that would be an impossible expectation, but he will not allow you to give in to ignorance, to get in the habit of complacency, as it is the enemy of growth

He's an intimidating figure to most, both from his status and sharp tongue, so it's not uncommon for low-level scientists with something to prove to seek you out

Sometimes to get information on him, sometimes to test your intelligence, as if trying to prove themselves better than the company the great Dr. Ratio chooses to keep

He's quick to nip that in the bud, though

His crossed arm stoic faced glare would scare away anyone who isn't keen on being picked apart verbally

He'll claim it's all to avoid tainting you with their idiocracy, and that you really shouldn't keep such company

Tries to use selfish logical excuses constantly to get things he wants from you

"I've already chosen your hotel room for this trip, it'll be next to mine so I don't have to travel as far to compare notes in the morning."

"Honestly. You're coming with me to dinner so I won't waste my time working around your schedule later."

"No. You are absolutely not going to get a closer look at those monsters because I'm not cleaning up the mess you'll no doubt get yourself into by being so reckless."

"You're really going to waste your valuable time entertaining those IPC buffoons? They have more credits than brain cells. Stay here, lest their ignorance rub off on you."

He means well, under the insults and unapproachable demeanor

And, at a certain point, he really can't imagine the rest of his life without you close by

[dicenote]

Death Note characters ranked on how good they are at driving, from worst to best:

Near: I'm sorry, but he's not reaching the pedals. Like, if you could strap his brain to a car and make him psychically drive it, he'd do better than most people on this list. But in a regular car he'd unfortunately struggle. Maybe he can control the gas/brake while Rester steers, or vice-versa.

Matsuda: I just know that he gets distracted by every little thing. Funny road sign? New song on the radio? Discussing murder notebooks with his passengers? He suddenly forgets that he's in the middle of changing lanes.

Ide: Better than Matsuda because at least he keeps his damn hands on the steering wheel. He's considerably worse if Matsuda and/or Aizawa are bickering in the car with him, though.

Misa: Her placement can be shifted up/down a few spaces depending on your definition of "good". She will get you to your destination 10 minutes earlier than you expect, but multiple traffic laws will be broken on the way.

L: Look, I know he piloted a helicopter in canon without a license, but the sky doesn't have lanes or traffic lights. He can figure out how to drive the vehicle, sure, but his driving is chaotic and only marginally better than Misa's overall.

Light: Like L, he probably doesn't have a license and could work his way around a car. Unlike L, he wants to look like the perfect law-abiding citizen and will try his best to drive like one. He ends up going a bit under the speed limit because of this. L finds his behavior highly suspicious.

Aizawa: Completely average driver, other than the occasional bout of road-rage. Or Matsuda-rage, if a certain idiot is messing with the AC again.

Mogi: Also completely average, but goes completely silent while driving (except when working as Misa's manager). Is he focusing on the road, or does he just not feel like talking? Nobody knows.

Mello: Prefers motorcycles, but is shockingly capable at driving a wide variety of vehicles just fine. He'll even obey the law if he isn't actively committing a crime in said vehicle.

Soichiro: We saw him smash that car into Sakura. Dude managed to make that look cool as hell. When not breaking and entering TV studios, though, he's probably very good at going the speed limit and following traffic laws and all that boring stuff (he is a cop, after all).

Matt: Roughly half of his experience driving is from Mario Kart and GTA, but he can still somehow Tokyo Drift IRL. Theoretically, these could be points against him (see L's placement), but he's so bafflingly good that Rule of Cool makes him the best by default. My point is that he could drive normal, but where's the fun in that?!

[healmyhrt]

I have an idea. So there is a cowboy hat rule. And it basically works like this : when the cowboy gives a girl his hat he like "chooses her" and when she gives him his hat back (she have to return the hat to his HOME) they usually fuck or smth. So my idea is that the y/n gives Chris the hat on tik tok, live or yt vid and chris is confused and doesn't know what that means but fans freaks out and he finally learn what that means and return the hat. Or something like this idk

⌗ like the cowgirl you are, c. sturniolo

chris x fem!reader

summary: chris had given you his hat back in the summertime, now it was finally time for you to return it at your university’s halloween party. except for the fact that you and chris had broken up since the school year started. but cowboy hats do have rules, don’t they?

disclaimers!: smut, kissing, angst, oral sex (fem!receiving), good girl/boy kink, cursing, use of y/n

a/n: i changed up the request a little bit bc it kinda confused me idk 😭 hope the submitter enjoys this though! | also i had to make up her friends name but “eden” is not a special character to the story guys

it was october 31st, and it was my university’s annual halloween costume party. and also the day that the cowboy hat rule comes to an end.

there’s this tradition to get the freshman at my college to fuck their first year. the boy gives a girl their cowboy hat anytime after summer starts, and they have until the halloween party to have sex. after the halloween party, you’ve lost your free fuck.

chris and i had been dating since sophomore year, and we attended the same school this year too. he had given me his cowboy hat during summertime, but we broke up right after school started.

and i guess today is the last day that the cowboy hat rule is valid. i didn’t want chris to be the person id have to do it with but… we’ll see how tonight goes.

“y/n, lets go!” a voice calls through my door.

“one second! i can’t find my bandana!” the costume was last minute, and i was matching with one of my new friends, eden, who was a sophomore. she wanted to do a matching costume, but the only sexyish ones left at the costume store were cowgirls. ironic, isn’t it?

i see a bright red piece of fabric hanging on the corner of my bed frame. “coming!” i smile, tying the bandana around my neck.

i grab chris’s hat, holding it in my hands, and staring at it. i slowly put it on in the mirror, and sigh. “here we go.”

“i need a drink.” eden sighs. we enter the sorority house that was throwing the party, and she tightly grips my hand, guiding me to the drinks table.

she hands me a red solo cup, and i push her hand back to her. “designated driver? hello?” i raise an eyebrow. she rolls her eyes. “it’s halloween, lets just get an uber or sleep here or something. live a little.” i sigh.

“pleaseeeeeeee.” she dramatically frowns. i cross my arms, and she gives me a look. “fine.” i chuckle.

“im the best fucking drink mixer there is, you wait and see.” she smirks. i shimmy in place next to her. “gotta pee. where’s the bathroom?” i question. eden points to the line of girls waiting next to a wooden door.

“fuck.”

“use the master bathroom. that’s the one for the people in sorority only, but im friends with half the group. tell ‘em i said you could go.” she smiles, licking spilled alcohol off of her finger.

“you sure?” i give a scared look to her. “go, y/n.”

“which door is it?” i bite my bottom lip. “last door on the left. be aware for socks on door handles.” she chuckles. i roll my eyes.

i nod. “i’ll be here when you get back!” i give her a thumbs up before disappearing upstairs. there weren’t really a lot of people upstairs. some people talking in the hallway, some couples sneaking off into bedrooms, or hogging bathrooms.

i arrive at the last door on the left, and i look around to make sure i was at the correct one before entering.

it was so much quieter in here. despite the now muffled music from outside, i’d stay in here for the rest of the party if i could.

drying my hands, i hear muffled sound from the other side of the bathroom door. i slowly open it, hoping i don’t walk out on a couple.

i see a fitted cap sitting on the carpet, and i walk over to it. picking up the hat, i realize exactly whose it is.

“long time no see.” a familiar voice says from behind me.

fuck.

i slowly turn around, preparing to see him. “y/n.” chris smiles that familiar smile.

“christopher.” i stare at him. he smirks, walking closer to me. “y’know, i always loved when you called me that.”

i scoff. “yeah?” he clears his throat. “yeah.”

chris leans against the sofa in the middle of the room, not taking his eyes off of me. i sit on the ottoman a few feet away.

“you look good.” he smiles, bringing his cup to his lips.

“you look… like you.” i fidget with his hat in my hands. chris places his cup on the floor next to his feet, and leans forward. “is that my hat?” he questions.

“yeah, here.” i stand up, and immediately walk over to him. i hold out his cap, and his eyes stay on mine.

“thanks… but not this one.”

i freeze in place. chris stands, towering over me, and takes his cowboy hat off of my head. “you still have this?” he says through a chuckle. “yep.” i sigh.

“we broke up.” chris says, still looking at the hat. i nod, and scoff. “yep.” i say again. he looks at me, and stares.

i sigh. “well, you returned it.” he smirks. i scoff, moving past him, and sitting on the couch. i can feel his eyes burning into the back of my head. “im gonna go.”

i hear his steps get further and further, and then stop at the door. before he gets his hand on the handle, i stand.

“why?”

chris turns around, a confused expression across his face. he shrugs. “why what?” i swallow before speaking.

“why did you kiss her back?” i ask, my voice breaking slowly. chris’s face drops, and he looks at the ground.

“i don’t know.”

i scoff. “you don’t know?” chris slowly steps toward me. i stand, arms crossed, as he arrives in front of me.

“i was wasted. i wasn’t thinking straight. i don’t know why i did it, and ive never forgiven myself, y/n.” he says.

chris slumps down on the sofa next to us, holding his head in his palms. i bite my bottom lip, debating whether or not i should sit.

chris sounded genuine. i truly do believe he didn’t mean to kiss her back. but knowing it happened still hurts.

i sit next to him, my outer thigh rubbing against his the denim that covered his legs. chris rubs his eyes, and drags his fingers down his face. “i really am so sorry.”

i shift in my position, and he looks at me. i try not to hold eye contact because he never looks away. ever.

“please believe me when i say this, i never would do what i did ever again. im so sorry.” he keeps staring.

i sigh, and lean my head against his shoulder. he leans his head on top of mine, and exhales heavily. i smile.

“i still love you.”

my eyes widen, and i slowly lift my head up, his as well. i look chris in the eyes, and he nods. “i mean it.”

i pull on my bottom lip with my teeth, and stand. i take the cowboy hat from his hands, and begin walking to the door. “i love you too.” i say, my hand on the door handle.

chris doesn’t turn around, he continues to face the wall before him, sinking into the couch. and i hesitate. i do still love chris, i never stopped.

but could we really just go back to normal after that? i’m not sure. but right about now, some sex with him would definitely clear the air. although, i’m not sure i’m entirely drunk enough to do that. eden and i pregamed before we left, but that’s about it… fuck it.

“wanna show me how much you still love me?”

chris’s head snaps toward me. he raises an eyebrow. i smile, and raise the cowboy hat above my head.

“i mean cowboy hats do have rules, don’t they?” chris stands, slowly walking toward me with a smirk across his face. “they sure do.”

he lifts me off the ground like i weigh nothing, and i wrap my legs around his waist. chris holds both hands under my ass, and i stare into his eyes. “you sure about this?”

i smile, and place the hat over his long hair.

“yes ma’am.” he replies, instantly laying me down on the master bed beside us, kissing me uncontrollably.

“i missed you,”

kiss.

“so,”

kiss.

“so,”

kiss.

“much,”

and he places one more kiss on my lips, and pulls away, staring down at me. i exhale, breaking the eye contact.

“well, if you missed me so much, prove it.” i smile.

chris’s expression turns into a smug smirk, and he leans forward, kissing me again, and gripping my waist with his pale hands.

he kisses down my neck, leaving notably visibly hickeys as he moves. i breathe heavily, trying to contain myself as he kisses and bites at my skin. “chris, please…”

“so needy. have you been waiting for me to fuck you?”

there was no point in denying. i nod, as he begins to unbuckle his belt. “use your words.” i exhale heavily.

“yeah.”

“yeah?” he pulls his belt out of the loops on his jeans, and tosses it onto the marble floor that surrounded us.

he leans back down, and begins removing pieces of my costume. chris slowly unties the red bandana from around my neck. he looks at it, then at me. “useful.”

chris takes his time removing his t-shirt. he holds eye contact with me, moving as slow as possible. “chris..”

he brings his finger to my lips. “shhh… patience.”

i throw my head back in irritation, and before i know it, two hands grip my thighs and pull me to the edge of the bed. chris spreads my legs, kissing and biting my inner thigh. “don’t need these.” he says, stroking a finger across my underwear before removing them.

he grips my hips, and moves his face closer to me. softly planting a kiss on my clit, i feel him smirk against me.

he moves his head up and down, licking from my entrance and back up to my clit. "fuck—" I moan out as he starts to lap at my clit, sending pleasure everywhere throughout my body.

cheis places his hands on the top of my thighs, making me grind against his mouth, guiding him.

his grip gets tighter, and my breathing heavier.

he continues to lick up my arousal, and i place my hands in his hair, moving it out of his face.

chris stands up, and catches his breath. i do the same, and we finally look at eachother again and he smiles.

“what if i kissed you right now?” “gross.”

he laughs, and begins to unbuckle his belt. chris holds eye contact with me the whole time. “you ready, baby?”

i nod, and chris pulls a wrapped condom out of his sock.“what the hell?” i say, through a chuckle. chris returns a laugh, and rips the top of the wrapper off with his teeth.

“gotta stay prepared.”

he pulls down his boxers, revealing his cock, which oozed with precum. i stare, my eyes getting dry, and chris smirks, placing the condom over himself.

he aligns himself with my entrance, and gives me another look for consent. “ready?” i nod. “positive.”

we both gasp as chris begins to slide in, and an immediate moan leaves my mouth. “shhhhhhhh.”

“we can’t have the whole party hearing you.”

chris glances at my red bandana, and grabs it quickly. he folds it over and over until it’s long, and looks at me.

“head.” he says, i lift my head up as best i can with him thrusting into me, and he ties it around my mouth to the back of my head.

“good girl.”

chris places both hands on my waist again, gripping it tightly. he plunges into me, making a murmured moan leave my lips every time.

chris bites his bottom lip to hold back the moans that threatened to escape him. he throws his head back, and squeezes his eyes shut.

the bed creaks consistently, and it’s pretty loud too, so it’s very obvious to everyone outside what we’re doing.

chris’s thrusts start to slow, and he begins to catch his breath. “so close… gonna—” i feel him turn warm inside me as the condom fills up.

chris leans down, untying the bandana, and placing his head next to mine. i finally breathe, and shut my eyes.

“you’re so good, baby. always so good.”

he lays down next to me, breathing heavily. i just stare at him. and he stares back.

i couldn’t help but think that this was maybe a mistake?

but whether i liked it or not, we had sex, and that’s a pretty difficult thing for two ex’s to get away from.

[razrbladekiss]

LOVE BITES | Joel Miller

SUMMARY: its been two years since joel broke your heart, and now you’re thrust into the most awkward situation imaginable. no thanks to tommy, of course.

PAIRING: no outbreak!joel x afab!reader

WORD COUNT: 3.9k, literally pulled this outta my ass in an hour.

WARNINGS: angst. joel is a bit of a jerk and so is tommy but reader can hold her own. 🤭 tiny bit of fluff. plenty of dialogue to scratch the itch inside of my little pea brain!

“What can I getcha?” You call over the music, leaning against tacky wood as you greet yet another inebriated middle aged man. Your tits shine beneath dim light—highlighted with perspiration, liquor and the purple glitter that Cassie thinks’ll get you more tips—and you smile. “Bud Light?”

“Please, doll.”

Your eyes roll. The pet names are one of the worst parts about working at Fuel, but you suppose it’ll never subside. It’s sleazy, here. The place teems with parasitic men—old, sweaty metalheads that’ll never touch a bar of soap even if you bribe them—but they pay your bills with the gratuity they slip into your pocket, so you find it in yourself to tolerate it.

Plus, every so often an attractive stranger comes in and fills your evening with something more interesting than a story that usually starts with “were you even born when this song came out?”

It’s not clear why you’re targeted behind the bar—you’re not the youngest and certainly not the chirpiest—but you surmise that these figments of the male species must have some sort of affinity for being bitched at. Because as soon as someone says something even slightly misogynistic, you’re coming down on them like a wall of fucking bricks.

You’re outspoken. Kind of brash. But it makes for great conversation with some hot guys every so often.

Fuck this shit.

Feigning that internal indignation—and yearning for some kind of drama—you resume your work.

“There ‘ya go, Gil.” You pop off the cap, handing him the bottle and offer a smile. He takes it with a nod, bumbling away from the bar and you turn away to dry some glasses.

It’s busy, but not Saturday night busy. It’s wall-to-wall, but it doesn’t seem as tightly-packed as usual. You’re not rushed off your feet, you’re not being overrun with strange and usual orders from men whose eyes are needing to be held open with toothpicks, or the odd underage girl that managed to slip past Dean while he was checking ID’s.

Something is off.

And it isn’t for the fact that the same three Motörhead songs are playing on a fucking loop, either. Something is looming.

Something a little bit more tense.

“Hey.” Cassie tips her head in a nod toward the crowd while pulling the beer tap. “Look who just walked in.”

You squint your eyes. It’s a struggle to heed any new faces, for the light is so dim and room full of cigarette smoke, but you scan nonetheless.

“I can’t see.” You tell her, taking a few glasses from atop the bar to wash. “Is it that hot guy you always flirt with?”

Her cheeks turn thirteen shades of crimson. She shakes her head.

“No. He’s in Cancun with his wife.”

“Oh.” You say wryly. “So, he’s not interested in you then?”

She blinks in your direction. “We had sex on Thursday.”

Your jaw hits the floor. “Oh.” You repeat your earlier tone. “So, you’re his side piece?”

“Yes. And happily so.” Cassie slips the beer to her patron, and turns to you with an elbow propped against the sticky wood. “But enough about Luke…Can’t you see him? He’s got the denim jacket on—hair a little slicked back.”

Confused, your gaze drifts into the sea of drunks. You’re drawing a blank.

“Oh my GOD.” She grabs a hold of your shoulders, and turns you toward nine o’clock. “Look!”

You follow her line of sight, still blindly searching. Until he comes toward the bar, and you go through all seven stages of fucking grief as he ambles toward you.

He’s got a face like thunder. Eyes dark, nostrils flared.

“Holy shit.”

“Indeed.” The unyielding grip set against your shoulders is released, though Cassie stays close by. For back-up—and slightly inquisitive—purposes.

Tommy. Fucking. Miller.

You haven’t seen him since the night that Joel broke your heart, and you’d be a fool to surmise that the underlying hostility has died off in the two years that your eyes last met. He was a prick to you, that night.

But you’re not scared of him. Never have been. He’s a pussycat.

Aside from that night, the most confrontation between the two of you came on a very warm summers evening, when Tommy was barbecuing and you told him that his burgers needed a little longer when he tried serving them. He pitched a fit, threw the spatula in the air, and left Joel to take over.

He never could take criticism.

“Get out.” You tell him, hand firmly gripped against the Guinness tap. “I mean it, Miller. Get out.”

He ignores you, taking a seat at the bar and your jaw rolls.

“Fine.” You fake a smile, wanting nothing more than to throw a whiskey sour in his face. “What d’ya want, Tommy? Jack ‘n coke? Bud? A slap—“

“I dunno. But now that I’ve seen you, I want you to call my brother.”

Cassie takes a step back when you nudge her, needing to go through this alone.

“Phone works both ways.” Blunt, you say. You pour him whiskey—neat—despite him not elucidating exactly what he wants. “He’s a jackass, Tommy. I ain’t got time for jackasses no more.”

He rubs his lips together after taking a pull, putting firmly the glass against the bar.

“You left him—“

“Wrong. He broke up with me.”

“You left him.” Tommy repeats himself. He’s getting agitated, now. “He didn’t really want you to go. He didn’t mean to say all that he said—“

You scoff, throwing a dish rag over your shoulder.

“Well, he said it. He kicked me out.” You start, ready to reel off all the bad things Joel did to you. “He blocked my number, told everyone that I left ‘cus I was never happy with anything—“

“He loved you, and you were just a spiteful bitch.” Tommy defends, slightly more brash than what he once was.

“Wow. You’ve grown a pair of balls since I last saw you.”

“Oh, fuck it off with the mean shit.” He growls, staring pointedly at you. “You’re not like this, so stop pretending.”

You put a few glasses away beneath the bar, and stick clean scoops into the ice cube tray.

“I was crazy about him, he didn’t need to give me anything more than what he already did, Tommy.” With a small voice, you tell him. “We all know that.”

Tommy runs a hand over the back of his neck. But you’re not willing to argue the case any further—not with a man who downs his liquor in one single shot.

“So, is this why you’re here, huh? To spend the entire night chewin’ me out? ‘Cus if you are, then you can fuck off. I get enough shit from the assholes that come here every night.”

He shakes his head. “Wasn’t on my agenda. Didn’t know that ‘ya worked here, so I guess its been a lovely experience for the two ‘a us, ‘ay?”

Your eyes roll. You pop the cap off another beer for Gil as he stumbles toward you, handing it to him while taking his cash at the same time.

“And why are you here? ‘Cus I didn’t peg you down to be the heavy metal type. That was always reserved for—“

Your face falls. This time, your heart actually starts to pound within the constraints of its ribcage, and you feel nauseous. You’re lucky that no glass is held tightly beneath deft fingertips, or else you’d be having to sweep the shards of it off of the floor.

“Joel.” You murmur as he pads over to Tommy.

He leans against the bar, looking at his brother. He mumbles something about this place being a dive, how loud it is, and that he needs to be getting back ‘cus Sarah’ll be gettin’ worried if I’m not home before midnight.

You’re blinking at him, but he doesn’t notice you’re standing right there. Not until he pins a cigarette between his lips and fishes about his pocket for a light, but comes up empty.

Joel turns around, patting his shirt and jeans pockets, before his eyes flick upward and mouth gapes open. The cigarette is stuck to his bottom lip by the slick of his saliva, and a sheer stroke of luck.

He yanks the stick from his mouth, before he’s pointing at Tommy with it.

It’s almost comical that Love Bites is playing from the jukebox. Though, it makes a fucking change from Whiskey In The Jar.

“This why you fuckin’ brought me here?!” He barks, and you’re glad that it’s so loud in there or else he’d be causing a scene.

Tommy holds his hands up in defense. “I didn’t know she worked here!”

“He didn’t.” You cut in, earning a glare from the man whose heart once lived in your pocket. “What? Do you really think he’d put you—us—in this position willingly?”

Joel looks between the two of you, easing the accusatory gesture. He slips the cigarette between his lips again, and you—begrudgingly—hurl a lighter toward him.

He doesn’t acknowledge you. He just takes it and sparks the cigarette, cupping the cherry as the light takes.

“You’re welcome.” You snark. Joel slides it over to you without even so much as looking upward. “You’re used to that, ain’t ‘ya? Taking things from me when you’ve got no business to?”

He says your name warning, finally meeting your gaze. His eyes are dark. A lot more dismal, than usual. Saddened, maybe.

And his face is gaunt. Still as handsome as ever, but complexion slightly sallow. Though, you just put that down to the fact that winter doesn’t offer too much sun for him to tan, in Jackson.

“I didn’t do shit to you.” Joel upholds, flicking cigarette ash into the ceramic dish atop the bar. You tense up at his tone. “You wanted more than what I could’ve given you, so we both knew it wasn’t gonna work—“

“I loved you, Joel!” You bark across the bar, leaning over a little. He drops a glance to your tits—exposed and glittering—and swallows thickly the lump in the back of his throat. “I wanted to be with you—get married, start a family—was that such a bad fuckin’ thing?!”

“Y’knew I didn’t want that.”

You blink back the tears that are desperate to push over your waterline, and nod. “But if you communicated that to me earlier on in the relationship, then maybe I would’ve shunned those ideas.”

Tommy looks between the two of you, hating the prickly tension. Because—two and a half years ago—you two were the strongest couple he ever knew. Regardless of the age gap, you were obsessed with one another.

But now you’re strangers, standing at opposite sides of the bar.

“Take a break, hon.” Cassie tells you from a distance and you’re peeling off the waist apron faster than you can even acknowledge what she’s saying.

Marlboro reds are being yanked from the ass pocket of your jeans, and the lighter that you had let Joel borrow is snared firmly within the palm of your left hand.

You storm to the front of the bar—ignoring the friendly crowd of regulars, friends, and new-faces—all the while devoured by this overwrought tension that’s bubbling up from the deepest caverns inside of you.

Joel follows you, reaching for your wrist but you shirk the feeling because it’s turning you sick. Just the sheer feeling of his skin—calloused and rough—ghosting over yours is enough to churn your stomach and force those ill feelings to flood back into your system.

You step outside, the din of much-to-loud music now muffled by the steel doors—only clear when someone walks in or out of the bar—and let your back hit against the brick wall with a dramatic thud.

“Sorry.” Joel says, though you know he doesn’t mean it.

“For what, exactly? Dumping me? Making me look like the bad guy, just ‘cus I wanted something?”

He runs a hand over his face, before he’s shifting forward to let a drunken—completely in love—couple pass by the two of you. He joins you up against the wall, his right boot colliding with it.

“I didn’t make you look like the bad guy—“

“Bullshit.” You say. “I see Sarah about town sometimes—she doesn’t even acknowledge me anymore, Joel. I spent five years of my life playing mommy to that little girl, and now I’m like a stranger to her?”

He hates how you’re throwing this back into his face, but he supposes that he deserves it. However, he will not give in to you that easy.

“You never played mommy. She always called you by your first name.” Like he knows it’ll hurt you, he says. “You were just a glorified babysitter, to her—“

“Oh, get fucked!” You bark, teeth clamped together. “You can’t say this shit when you don’t mean it, Joel! You know that she loved me!”

Your words materialize into the saddest tone he’s ever heard from you, and he’s suddenly feeling awful for even musing such a thing. He’s never this mean.

“Fuck—I’m sorry. You’re right, that was an awful thing to say.” Regret depletes him. But it’s too late. Tears are flowing from your beautiful eyes, like a dam that’s burst its way over the river banks, and Joel hates himself for doing this to you. Again.

When he broke things off—and ruined your life—he thought it would be easier to build a wall around himself, and lie to people about the nature of your departure. He told everybody that you left on your own terms, that you wanted things that Joel could never give to you—though, if he had just kept an open mind, then maybe he could’ve.

Because for months after you left his home, he found himself glued to his cellphone, desperate to call or text you to tell you how sorry he was for doing what he did.

That he was too hasty—too fucking mean—to say that he didn’t want a life with you. Because he did.

But it’s too late.

“Piper missed you, Joel.” You wipe away fat tears with the palm of your hand—knowing your mascara has smudged but not being able to find it in yourself to care—and tell him about the dog that the two of you once cared for together. “She sat by the door every morning waiting for you.”

This is killing him. Having you in front of him, but knowing that things will never be the same again.

“She’s four, now.” You smile a little bit. “She didn’t grow any bigger than what a German Shepherd should’ve, but she acts like it. Thinks she’s a fuckin’ rhino, or somethin’.”

Joel chuckles, feeling his own sadness loom in his tear ducts.

“She loves babies.” That maims you, a bit. “Cassie’s sister had a little boy in February. Piper sits by the crib whenever we visit. She would’ve loved being a sister.”

“I bet. She was always such a protective dog.” He stubs out his cigarette, though makes no effort to go back inside. “Especially when it came to you.”

“I’m her mom.” You tell him, blankly. “I feed her. I take her on walks. I groom her. I’m the only person that’s remained a constant in her life since she was eight-weeks old—“

“And I’m sorry for that.” A little stern—not enjoying being discreetly chastised—he says. “But we were never going to work—“

“And you thought that you’d tell me that after five fucking years?” You flick your own roach to the ground now, letting your back peel away from the wall. “Joel, I wasted half a decade with a man who couldn’t see us going anywhere, and you just expected me to be fine with that?”

“You didn’t waste your fucking time with me.”

“I could’ve had a family, by now!” You yell, your cheeks damp once again. Eyes stinging. “Joel, I could be somebody’s mother. Somebody’s wife.”

He feels awful that he’s taken that from you, but surmises that it isn’t too late.

“I know that you did it all before you met me—I know that was something that I was signing up for when I started dating an older man,” you take a breath, “but I thought that you might’ve changed your mind. Because I thought that you loved me—“

Joel grabs firmly your hands and shakes them, getting you to look at him. His eyes plead with yours.

“I did love you.” He breathes deep. “I think there’s a part of me that still loves you. But I couldn’t give you what it was that you wanted—“

You yanked your hands from his grip—for the second time this evening, actually.

“Couldn’t, or wouldn’t, Joel? Because to me, it seems like you were scared of committing to me for fear of something bad happening.”

“Don’t—“

“Not everyone leaves, Joel.” Softly, you tell him. “I was never planning on walking outta your life, so I don’t know why you were so scared to commit to me.”

Because I’m fucking insecure?

You look down at your watch, realizing that you’ve been out here far, far too long.

“Look.” You make eye contact with him. You miss the way he so boldly meets your gaze whenever you speak. “I’m sorry that you thought I was too high maintenance—that you’d never be able to keep me satisfied—but I was. There was never a doubt in my mind that I wouldn’t have had the best life with you, Miller.”

“But you wanted kids—“

“And I had Sarah. Of course, I wanted to mother my own children, Joel, but it wasn’t the end of the world. It just hurt to know that you didn’t want to give me that, when I was always so willing to do it for you.”

His eyes close slowly, realizing how much of a fucking prick he’s been these last twenty-four months.

“I’m sorry—“

“I need to get back in there.” You say with a small nod, gripping firmly the heavy-set door to the club before you’re stepping inside and leaving Joel completely dumbfounded.

I need to make this right.

It’s twelve forty-three in the morning when you finally amble up your driveway, and you’ve actually never been this happy to see your house before.

The kitchen light dim—though still bright enough to see Piper’s silhouette by the door—fills your heart with an immediate sense of comfort after such a long fucking day.

Carefully guiding yourself up the wooden steps so that you don’t fall, you edge nearer to your front door. But not before your boot is colliding with a little bag perched on the top step.

There’s a tag—your name inscribed—and you feel your face fall. Do you have a stalker?

But any premonition is squashed when you take the bag inside—wary, of course—and open it up. Piper is running laps around you all the while your hands fish around the pink cardboard.

“Oh?” You take out an envelope, and your heart sinks.

It starts with your name, and a little wonky heart next to it. Not to mention, it’s written with a pink gel-pen.

I’m sorry for being a jerk, I’d understand if you hate me. Today was fucking horrible, and I’m a douchebag. Not just for today, but for this whole thing. I’m sorry for making everybody think that you’re a bitch, and I wish that I would’ve told you sooner that I didn’t want children, or to get married again. Now that I’m thinking about it, it doesn’t seem all that bad. I’m also sorry that Tommy was a dick, he said he texted you but it bounced back—must’ve blocked his number. But honestly I don’t blame you. We’re assholes and you never deserved us in your life baby.

Take this card as an apology, if you want to. But take those candies and the dog treats, and have a nice evening with our little girl. I’ve unblocked your number and put my own inside of this envelope, so I hope that you’ll call me and we can make things right again.

Love always, Joel.

You wipe at your tears with the back of your hand, and pull out the dog treats alongside the nerds gummy clusters, and smile. He knows you both so well.

“Here, Piper girl.” She comes barreling over to you, almost sweeping your knees from beneath you. “Look’it what your daddy bought for you.”

Her ears prick up at the mention of Joel, and it’s at this moment that you realize you’ll be seeing him again a lot sooner than what you originally thought.