#im actually getting pretty good at it but i only make one kind of roll
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xspeter · 2 days ago
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episode one: the vanishing of will byers
˚✧˚. summary: your brother goes missing, Tommy H gets what he deserves, and Mike Wheeler drags you into something downright strange
wc: 6.1k
m.list
notes: hi!!! this is the first chapter of my own rewrite :). i’ve always loved reading stories where you actually go on the adventures with the characters, so i figured why not do it myself? as i’m sure all of you know, im not the best at keeping up with my own stories… so please bare with me!
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Your job at Karma Records isn’t very hard, especially since your job just consists of stacking and organizing records and that’s pretty much it. You glance at the clock on the wall, and you sighed as you realized it was already 10:30. The store closed thirty minutes ago, but you stopped getting any customers before the sun had even fully set.
You usually made it a rule not to work late, especially on nights where Will would be home alone. Tonight though was one of the rare nights where Jonathon would be home before you, so you figured there wasn’t any harm in picking up a few extra hours. Especially since you knew your mom could use the extra help. Even though she thought she was good at hiding your financial struggles, you and Jonathon had always known.
“Hey, you ready to lock up?” Your friend, Conner, asks you, his glasses nearly falling off of his nose as he leans against the front counter to look at you. You nod, stretching your arms over your head, your eyes squeeze shut and you let out a relieved moan when your arms slap back down to your thighs. Conner gives you a thumbs up, his blonde hair falling over his eyes a bit as he stands to his full height. Conner is tall, that much is obvious, he has been ever since you were kids and you’d met at the softball field.
“I’ve just gotta finish sweeping up the backroom, but you can go ahead and go.” He says, already beginning to walk away from you.
Your eyebrows furrow as you shrug your jacket on, “Are you sure? I really don’t mind helping you.”
Conner nods, “Yeah, I know, but Will and Jonathon are waiting for you, and you want to get home before your mom right?” He says the last part teasingly, knowing it was technically against your moms rules for you to work late.
You roll your eyes, “Whatever, it’s not like Will is home alone, Jon is there! And, I mean, seriously, I feel bad leaving you here alone, Conny.”
Conner just shakes his head, walking over to you and practically pushing you out the door. “Go home!” He insists. You can’t help but giggle at his antics, finally agreeing.
You sigh as you walk out of the store. You wrap your jacket tighter around yourself as you make the short trek to your car. November in Indiana wasn’t terrible, it wasn’t snowy like it usually was in January, it was more an uncomfortable dry cold. The kind of cold that almost hurt your lungs if you breathed in too hard.
As you walked to your car, you couldn't help but feel almost uncomfortable. You were on one of the main streets in Hawkins, surrounded by stores and streetlights, but you couldn’t help the feeling that you weren’t alone. You glanced behind you, thinking maybe Conner was watching you through the store's glass doors, but he’s not there. Still, the feeling persists.
You swallow, grateful as you finally reach your red ford. The car had been a hand-me down from your dad, the first and only nice thing he’d ever given you. You assumed it was to make up for all of the bullshit he put your family through, but it was going to take more than a car to make you forgive him.
The feeling still lingered even as you pulled out of the parking lot, and you couldn’t help but wonder if something very bad was going to happen.
-
Your twin brother had always been an expert on breakfast foods. You wondered if it was because he’d had to learn considering your lack in cooking skills, or if it was because your mom always burnt pancakes and her eggs were always a bit too watery. Either way, you can’t help the way you inhale the smell of the eggs he’s making, sipping on your coffee at the dining table.
You can hear your mom frantically getting ready, more than likely looking for her keys, which you could see on the table in front of you. “Jonathon, Y/N! Have you seen my keys?” She cries as she suddenly bursts into the kitchen, her eyebrows furrowed.
Jonathon sighs as he continues making breakfast, “Check the couch!” He says, but she just groans. “I already did!” She insists.
You grab the keys off the table, placing your mug down as you walk over to where she’s searching between the cushions. “They’re right here, Mom.”You say, holding them out to her like a prize.
“Oh,” She says relieved, “Thank you, Sweet girl.”
You just hum, going back to where you were sitting at the table. “Are you almost done, Jon?” You ask impatiently, barely able to ignore the grumbling in your stomach. Jonathon just rolls his eyes, “I would be if you’d quit nagging me.” He says, though you know he’s just teasing you.
“Okay, I’m leaving for work,” Your Mom says, leaving a kiss on your head and heading for Jonathon, but she stops in her tracks when she notices the empty chair at the dining table. “Where’s Will?”
You wince, realizing you’d been so focused on your hunger you’d completely forgotten to get him up. “I haven’t gotten him up yet.”
Her head falls back in a groan, “You have to make sure he’s up!” She says, beginning to practically speed walk towards your younger brother's room. You sigh, and you can’t help but feel a bit guilty at making her day harder. “I’ve told you this a thousand times.”
You share a look with Jonathon, when you were Will’s age you were both getting yourselves up, and sometimes you thought maybe it was time Will did the same. “Sorry, mom!” You call down into the hallway, though you doubt she even processes what you said in her hurry.
You grin as you hear the toaster pop, and Jonathon silently places your plate in front of you. You go to immediately dig in, a hum leaving your lips. Your family had always called you a human garbage disposal, because you loved to eat. It was pretty much your love language.
Your mom came back into the room anxiously, a strange look on her face. You’d seen her look worried before, but this felt different. “Will came home last night, right?”
You looked to Jonathon for confirmation, who looked to you. “I- I don’t know, Y/N was home before me last night.” He says. You immediately shook your head, eyes widening a bit. “What? No, I wasn’t. I worked late last night. I thought you got off at eight?”
Jonathon swallowed, “Eric asked me to cover for him last night, and I figured we could use the extra money.”
You can’t help the way your heart drops at the realization that neither you or Jonathon had been home last night. But, surely he had just stayed the night with Mike. This was Hawkins, nothing bad ever happens in Hawkins.
Your mom rubs the bridge of her nose exasperatedly, her eyes squeezing shut. “Guys, we’ve talked about this. You can’t- can’t take shifts when I’m working!”
You swallow, “I’m sorry Mom, I just- it was just a misunderstanding.” Jonathon nods in agreement, leaning against the chair next to you. “He was at the Wheelers all day. I'm sure he just stayed the night.” You feel a bit relieved that Jonathon points this out, because where else would he be?
“I can’t believe you guys,” She mutters, walking towards the phone. “Unbelievable.” You sigh, knowing it was better to let her be angry then try and argue with her, especially when she was right.
You pick at your fingernails anxiously as she calls The Wheelers, that awful feeling from last night creeping back into your stomach, creating an endless pit. It wasn’t uncommon for Will to stay the night at his friends' houses on school nights, but he always made sure it was okay at least a week in advance. He was cautious like that, it was something you loved about him. How careful he was.
That’s why your heart skips a beat when she hangs up the phone, and she doesn’t look any bit relieved.
You and Jonathon spend the entire morning in silence, the both of you entirely too anxious to attempt any kind of small talk. Your mom had called and informed you that Will was not at school or at the arcade or at any of his friends or even at that diner he strangely loves so much. She’d said she was going to file a missing persons report, which still felt entirely impossible.
There was no way Will was actually missing. He was at Mikes all day yesterday! It’s only a ten minute bike from The Wheelers to your house, and Will is cautious. He is careful and he is safe and he knows better than to stray off the route you’d shown him years ago. It seemed entirely impossible that anything could’ve happened in that ten minutes.
You glance to where Jonathon sits next to you on the couch, his expression blank. You swallow, blinking a few times. “He’s fine, right?” You murmur, the first words spoken between the two of you in over an hour. “He just got lost in the woods. We- We’ll find him by tonight, right?” Your eyes begin to fill with an onset of tears, the first of the day.
Jonathon doesn’t say anything, he barely even spares you a glance, and you can’t say you don’t expect it. This is what had happened when your dad had left, he’d gone entirely mute for hours. At the time you’d been annoyed by it, you couldn’t wrap your head around the fact that he wouldn’t say a word, not even when you begged him to talk to you. Will had been so young at the time, he didn’t even really understand what was going on. You’re partially grateful for that, you’d rather he grew up without ever remembering what it was like with your father than to have to experience living with him.
Before you can stop it, tears begin to roll down your cheeks, hot and heavy and all too familiar. You can feel your hands shaking from where they sit on your lap, your vision becoming blurred and lower lip wobbling uncontrollably.
This wasn’t real, there wasn’t any way. There has to be a rational explanation for this. This was Hawkins for crying out loud! What’re the chances that the one awful thing to happen in this town happens to your family? Your happy, loving family?
A warm embrace of your shaking hands pulls you from your thoughts, and that’s when you notice that Jonathon is crying too. He isn’t saying anything, and he still isn’t looking at you, but he’s holding your hand. You tighten your fingers around his, place your head on his shoulder, and weep.
For now, this was enough.
-
“Will!”
Your voice is most definitely hoarse by the third hour of you doing this, screaming for your baby brother to no avail. Will hasn’t responded once, and you’re no closer to finding him than you were three hours ago.
Your mom had returned home with… the report. You couldn’t bring yourself to say what it really was anymore, especially not after seeing it in person. It just made it feel too real, and some part of you still believed this was some awful nightmare.
Deep in the woods, you could hear your mom and brother screaming for him, their voices hoarse just like yours. This part of the woods wasn’t new or unfamiliar to you, in fact you knew it like the back of your hand. Castle Byers stood tall and proud in the tiniest clearing, made of wood and covered by a blue tarp. You remember helping Will and Jonathon build it, or, more like you and Jonathon built it and Will just watched in astonishment.
The castle had been almost like you and your twin's passion project after your Dad had left, like a saving grace amidst the chaos that your lives had become. You both acted like it was to help Will, to distract him, but really it was to distract you.
It had worked too, because by the time it was finished the dad-shaped hole in your chest had healed into a dad-shaped scar.
Now, as you flung the makeshift door open, the Castle felt cold and empty. A reminder of what was gone, and a lingering question of if and when it was coming back.
You sighed, some part of you’d been expecting Will to be in there, hiding from the rest of the world to finish some amazing drawing that he’d gotten the idea for.
“Not there, huh?”
Jonathon’s voice behind you nearly sends you flying out of your skin, and you have to place a hand over your chest to calm your rapidly beating heart. “Jesus, Jon!”
He gives what seems to be the making of a smile, though it doesn’t quite extend past his cheeks. “Sorry.”
You shake your head, “It’s fine. I’m just… a little on edge, I guess.”
He nods, shoving his hands into his pockets. The both of you stare at the structure, neither of you quite knowing what to say as memories flow through the both of you.
“Do you- do you remember the first day we worked on this? When Will insisted on helping me cut the wood?” Jonathon asks you, glancing at you from the corner of his eye.
A small grimace forms on your face as you wrap your arms around yourself, “How could I forget?”
Six years ago, when you’d built this, Will had insisted on helping Jonathon cut the wood. He was only five years old at the time, but Jonathon had thought as long as he was there to help him it’d be okay. Which, by the way, you would’ve told him was a horrible idea if you’d known he was doing it. You’d been helping your mom make sandwiches for the four of you, when an awful, blood-curdling scream punctured through the four walls of your house.
You and your mom had gone running to find Jonathon bent over and Will sobbing over him, axe in hand. “I’m sorry, Jonny! I’m sorry!”
Will had accidently sent the axe right onto Jonathon’s leg, leaving a massive cut right below his knee. It was gaping and oozing blood so red it was nearly black. The whole ordeal had been terrifying at the time, and ten-year-old you had thought for sure Jonathon would die.
He didn’t obviously, he just needed tons of stitches and ended up with a badass scar. Will never did forgive himself for it though. To this day, he still apologizes to Jonathan for it, though he can barely even remember it happening. You think that’s what makes Will so different from all of you, he is so… so compassionate. So empathetic and more in-tune to his emotions then any other eleven year old on the planet. Jonathon had always told him to stop apologizing, that it was more his fault than anything, but Will never stopped.
Jonathon sniffles from beside you, though you can’t tell if it’s because of the cold wind or the tears in his eyes. “God, I’d kill to hear him apologize one more time.”
You sigh shakily, “I would too.” You insist, eyes filling with tears for the upteenth time today. You wonder to yourself if there would be a point where the tears just stop coming, if Will is going to be gone long enough for that to happen.
You silently pray to God that that doesn’t happen.
By the time 3 o’clock rolls around there’s only one person that you desperately need to talk to, that you know can make you feel better, and that’s Conner.
You’d returned home from your search half an hour ago, the whole thing leading you nowhere closer to finding your brother. You knew it wasn’t… pointless. That it would help you find him, but still, you couldn’t help but worry that you were searching for nothing. That he would never show up.
You needed to talk to Conner.
You dialed his number easily, the digits practically muscle memory at this point. Really, he was the only person outside of your family that you called. You weren’t particularly popular at school, and it’s not like you wanted to be! You were happy with it just being you and Conner. You swallowed as the phone rang, letting yourself lean against the wall as you twisted the phone cord around your free hand.
You frowned when you got his answering machine, though you assumed he must’ve gone straight to work from school. You’d already called off for the day, just like Jonathon and your Mom had. Though, your Mom had called off for the next two weeks.
When Conner doesn’t answer, you sigh, placing the phone back on the wall. Jonathon had shut himself in his room as soon as you got home, and your Mom had driven herself straight back to the police station to hound Hopper again. Leaving you, alone.
You never quite took loneliness well. Jonathon thrived when he was by himself, he found comfort in the silence, whereas you did not. You supposed that was the main difference between the two of you. Yes, you were twins, but really you didn’t think you and Jonathon had many traits in common. Or maybe you did, and you just couldn’t see it.
Either way, you needed to get out. You couldn’t sit here by yourself or you were positive you’d go crazy. Without really thinking, you threw on your shoes and your jacket, letting yourself out through the front door. You practically beelined for your car, the rusty red ford already bringing the slightest bit of comforting warmth to your chest.
You’d always been a bit attached to your car. Driving was comforting for you, and helped you clear your head. You’d always preferred road trips to traveling by plane, though your family could hardly ever afford a plane ticket. You’d always been secretly grateful for that fact.
The car shudders a bit as you force it on, the start of “Gypsy” by Fleetwood Mac blasting into the air. You quickly shut it off, the cassette popping out of the dash. You don’t even bother putting it back in its rightful case, instead choosing to throw it onto the passenger seat as you search through your cassettes for the song.
You had a routine when you were upset. Get in your car, play the song, and just drive. You never had a destination, just an agenda.
You let out a relieved sigh when you find it, quickly pushing it into the car and listening as the beginning notes of David Bowie's “Heroes” blast through your speakers. The speakers crackle and pop as you force it louder, but you don’t care. You just put the car in drive and go.
-
An hour later, you’re parked at a gas station, filling up your car before you head back home. You’d driven around the entire city of Hawkins twice, which wasn’t very hard to do considering its size, and you listened to the song the entire time.
Your eyes are puffy from crying all day, and a cigarette that you’d stolen from your mom months ago hangs lit between your lips. When you’d taken it, you figured you’d save it for the right time. No better time than the present, right?
It burns your throat and chest as you suck in its toxic chemicals, your free arm is wrapped around your middle while the other takes the cigarette out of your mouth and holds it between your pointer and middle finger.
You were sure there was some kind of danger in filling up your car while you smoke, but you’d seen countless people do it before and nothing happened to them. You tap your foot impatiently against the pavement, watching as the fuel gauge fills ever so slowly.
After what feels like forever, you hear the gas finally pop, signaling to you that it’s done its job and you can finally leave. As you stick it back into the gas pump, the sound of awfully loud music and screeching tires distracts you.
You look up to see Steve Harrington’s fancy BMW zoom into the parking lot, driving into the parking spot behind you and blowing so much wind past you that your hair practically flies all over the place. Your eyes instantly narrow as you turn around to glare at him. To no one’s surprise, he’s not by himself. His idiotic, minion friends Tommy H and Carol are in the car, the both of them laughing their asses off at whatever it is Steve has said.
Steve Harrington was… a prick, to put it lightly. You weren’t the guy's biggest fan, and you never had been. Now that he was dating Nancy Wheeler though? You most definitely can’t stand him.
You and Nancy had never really been friends, but there’d been a time where you were acquaintances, back when you both dressed up for your brother's DnD games and played along. Though now she’d grown out of it and you still played a long if they asked you nice enough.
You understood it, obviously. You were getting older, and she’d crossed the threshold from playing with her brother to being a normal teenage girl. You, it would seem, still had not, and Steve Harrington’s friends went out of their way to make sure you knew it.
Carol is the first to spot you glaring at them, and the sickening smirk that grows on her face is enough to make your movements quicken. You really weren’t in the mood to deal with them today.
You drop your cigarette, squashing it with your foot. The damn thing hadn’t done anything for you anyway, if anything you were just more stressed.
You quickly hop back into your car, turning the key and sighing as it revs back on. You reach for the door handle to slam it shut, but you’re stopped as a hand grabs the door, preventing you from leaving.
You swallow uncomfortably, sighing as you force yourself to look up. You're met with Tommy H’s smiling face, and you can’t help but feel sick at the smell of alcohol already in his breath. Schools been out for.. what? An hour and a half? How was the bastard already drunk?
“We missed you at school today.” He drawls. You can see Carol smiling through the rear view mirror, a freshly lit cigarette between her fingers. Steve is nowhere to be found, and you assume he’s gonna inside to buy whatever it is they came here for,
“Get off of my car, Tommy.” You say neutrally. If there was one thing you’d learned from being relentlessly bullied by these two, it was to not show any sort of distress.
Tommy leans closer to you, though his hand never leaves your car, instead trailing from the door to the hood, his fingers hanging carelessly over the opening from where your door closes. “Why would I do that when I’m just trying to have a decent conversation with you?”
You can’t help the way your face contorts in disgust. “Look, I’ve had a shit day, Tommy-”
“I know, I heard about your brother.”
Your breath hitches in your throat at that. It would seem there really were no secrets in a small town. Though, you’re shocked he found out about it so quickly. You don’t say anything. What can you say anyway? Oh, yeah, that really sucks! See you at school tomorrow? No.
“Yeah, me and Carol or real sorry about that, by the way.” Naively, you wonder if he’s being legit. Tommy H and Carol were awful, obviously, but sometimes you wondered if he wasn’t really that awful. You peek up at him at your own volition, a curious glint in your eye. “Really?”
Tommy snickers, “Of course! I mean, I'd be real depressed if my twin killed my younger brother too!”
You can hear Carol laughing, that awful, snotty laugh that she does when she wants Tommy to feel validated in whatever crap he’s pulling. “Hey, isn’t that called having an evil twin?” Tommy continues his attempts at getting under your skin, but you’re not focused on him anymore. You see Steve walk out of the gas station with a six pack, a confused look in his eye. You think that’s what pisses you off the most. It’s not Tommy’s comment or Carol's laugh, it’s Steve. It’s the fact that he knows what kind of awful people they are, and yet still chooses to be their friend. It makes you see red.
Before you even realize what you're doing, you quickly snatch the car door handle, and slam it shut on Tommy’s fingers. He howls in pain, his eyes going wide as his other hand reaches for the outside handle. You let him open the door, though he doesn’t even care for anything other than his bright red fingers anymore.
You smirk as he cradles them with his other hand, pained grunts still falling from his mouth. You can hear Carol calling for him, and Steve just stands in the middle of the parking lot stupidly, staring back at you through the rearview mirror. You can tell that he has no clue of what just happened, but he’s curious.
You don’t say anything as you slam the door back shut, not even bothering to put on your seatbelt as you speed out of the parking lot.
-
“Where the hell were you?”
It’s not the greeting you’re expecting when you finally get home, though you guess you should’ve considering you just left without even leaving a note.
You swallow, shutting the door behind you slowly. “I just needed to clear my head.” You defend softly.
Your mom scoffs, shaking her head wildly. The bags under her eyes are already much more prominent, and her hair is fraying in places it usually doesn’t. “So- So you just left? With everything going on, you just left without even telling anyone you were leaving?”
You played with your fingers uncomfortably, you knew she was right, but you hadn’t really been thinking properly at the time. It’s the whole reason you left in the first place! “I’m sorry, Mom.”
She just sighs, falling into the couch next to Jonathon. “You- You can’t do that, okay? Especially not right now. I- I can’t. Will’s already gone, if I lost one of you…” She trails off, eyes welling up with tears. It breaks your heart to see your Mother so vulnerable and open. When your dad left, she put on a strong face for the three of you. Never let you see her cry, never let you see her break, so that she could take care of you. Now, it was your turn to take care of her.
You sit into the couch next to her, so that now you and Jonathon are practically sandwiching her between the cushions. “You’re not going to lose us, Mom.” Jonathon murmurs. You agree with him, wrapping your arms around the brown haired woman. Jonathon does the same, and the three of you sit there for who knows how long, just embracing.
That is until Jonathon interrupts it. “Cops.”
You follow the both of them outside, where Chief Jim Hopper and two of his officer buddies are waiting with Will’s bike.
You’d gotten him that Bike for Christmas, it’d taken you months to save up for it. When you gave it to Will, he was so ecstatic he said he’d protect it with his life, and now a voice in the back of your head told you that he had.
“We found it lying over by Shirley.” He says as places the bike onto the porch and allows himself and the other officers inside your home. “It was just lying there?” You mom says in disbelief, sharing a glance with you.
“Yeah. Cal?” Hopper says, signaling to the other officer to do something that you’re not too sure of.
“Will wouldn’t do that.” You defend, “He- He loved that bike.”
Hopper glances at you, continuing his march through the halls “I’m sure he did, Kid.”
“Did it have any blood on it, or-”
“No, no, no, no…Phil?” Hopper murmurs. You can’t stand the way he’s looking through your house like it’s some sort of crime scene, even though you know deep down that it is.
Your childhood home was a crime scene now.
You can tell that Jonathon is growing restless at the amount of one word answers Hopper is giving, because you are too. “If you found the bike out there, then what are you doing here?” He asks, only slightly impatient.
“Well, he had a key to the house, right?” Hopper asks, not even sparing any of you a glance. To be honest, it was pissing you off.
“Yeah.” Jonathon answers.
“So…” He mutters, looking through your kitchen like a fruit fly looking for a rotten apple, “Maybe he came home.”
Your mom immediately scoffs, the idea impossible to her. “What- You think I didn’t check my own house?”
Hopper shakes his head, walking over to the wall next to the door. “I’m not saying that. This always been there?” His fingers glaze over a hole in the wall, right where the door handle would smash into it if opened hard enough.
Your mom sighs, rubbing the bridge of her nose impatiently. “I don’t know! I’ve got three kids, two of which are boys. Look at this place.”
Hopper doesn’t say anything, instead swinging the door back and forth as if testing his theory. “You’re not sure?”
The attention is dragged away when Chester starts barking outside, and Hopper goes out there without a word. Your mom follows, though you and Jonathon choose to stay inside.
“I hate that they’re treating this place like a crime scene.” You say softly.
Jonathon swallows, “Well, it is now, isn’t it?”
You're silent for a moment, picking at the skin around your finger nails uncomfortably. “Yeah.” You murmur, “I guess it is.”
-
By the time the sun sets you’ve tried to call Conner a million different times to no avail. His parents aren’t answering either, which worries you even more. With everything that’s going on with Will, you could really use your best friend.
There was going to be a search party for Will tonight, the first of what you desperately hoped wasn’t many. Your family wasn’t going, mostly because Hopper told you not to. He’d said it was best for you to stay home the first few nights, they had enough volunteers and they’d call you as soon as they found anything.
You were practically itching to go though. You wanted to be out there looking for him. What if Hopper scared him and he got even more lost? He wasn’t ever any good around new people.
Your thoughts are interrupted by your mom knocking on your bedroom door, and you let her know it’s okay to come in with a hum. She creaks the door open just wide enough for her to fit through it. “Hey.” She says softly.
You give her a small smile, “Hi.”
She sniffles, leaning against the doorframe. “Me and Jonathon are getting some pictures for the-” She sucks in a breath, the words getting stuck in her throat. “The poster?” You finish for her.
She nods, “The poster.”
Wordlessly, you follow her into the living room where a shoebox full of pictures sits opened on the coffee table, some photos already splayed around the wood. You sit down next to Jonathon on the couch, your eyes scanning over each and every family photo. Lots of them are taken by Jonathon, his love for photography never changing throughout the years.
You snort when you spot a picture of you and Jonathon from before Will was even born. You’re both barely over the age of three, the only thing either of you were wearing being a pampers diaper. You were still practically bald, your hair so thin it looked more like wires than anything else. Jonathon on the other hand, had the thickest head of hair you’d ever seen on a baby!
“You look like the girl in this photo!” You point out with a small laugh, and Jonathon just lets out a puff of air, the closest thing you think you’ll get to a laugh from him.
Your mom sniffles from where she sits beside Jonathon, silently looking through the photos, her eyes subconsciously lingering on the ones of Will.
“I- I know I haven’t been there for the two of you lately.” She says suddenly. Your breath catches in your throat and you shake your head. “No, Mom, c’mon..” You insist.
“I’ve just been working so hard and…” A soft sob escapes her throat, “I just feel bad I don’t even know what’s going on with you guys.” She does her best attempt at a laugh after, though it comes out weak and uncomfortable.
Jonathon seems to be going mute again, and you can’t help the way your eyes build up with tears. She rubs Jonathon’s thigh comfortingly, “What is it, Honey?” She says softly, doing her best to coax a few words out of him.
“Nothing.” He manages, though it comes out coarse, as if he’s holding back tears.
“Come on, tell me.” She insists. Finally, Jonathon breaks. “It’s just… I should’ve been there for him.” He admits, and you feel your heart break in two.
It wasn’t like you hadn’t been having thoughts like that. Thoughts of what if. What if you hadn’t taken that later shift? What if you had double checked with Jonathon? Would Will be home safe, like he was supposed to?
“Jonathon, don’t do that to yourself.” You say softly, tears falling from your own eyes.
“This was not your fault,” Your mom reassures, her other hand coming to rest on your cheek. “Either of you, okay? It wasn't your faults.”
She sucks in a shaky breath, “Will is… is close, I can feel it, in my heart.” She says, her voice wavering slightly though you know she means what she says. It comforts you slightly, knowing that your mom believed so wholly.
She smiles, picking one of the pictures of Will scattered on the coffee place. It’s his sixth grade school photo. He’s smiling, and he’s wearing the outfit you and Jonathon helped him pick out because he insisted on looking just perfect.
“This is the one, right?” She says, and you and Jonathon both nod. “Yeah, it’s his favorite picture.” You say, your voice cracking slightly,
Your mom laughs, staring fondly at the photo, until the phone rings. She drops it back in the coffee table and runs over to it. Your heart practically stops beating, hoping, but also slightly dreading, to hear some news about Will.
“H-Hello?” She says into the phone, her eyebrows creasing in confusion. “Hello? L-Lonnie?” You and Jonathan both share a glance, “Dad?”
You get up from your spot on the couch, walking over to your mom in the hopes if being able to hear whoever’s on the phone. “Hopper? Who is this?”
Suddenly, her breath catches in her throat as she looks at you. “Will?”
Jonathon practically shoots up from the couch, standing next to you. “It’s- It’s will?” You said, a weight coming off of your shoulders. He was alive.
Suddenly, her eyes go wide, no longer with relief, but instead fear. “Who- Who is this? What have you done to my boy?”
“Mom, what’s going on? Who’s on the phone?” You question, the weight suddenly crashing back down, making it nearly impossible for you to breathe. “Give me back my son- oh!” The phone drops from her hand, it clearly having gotten overheated or- or something.
Jonathon dives for it, “Hello? Who is this?”
You immediately go for your Mom, “What did he say?” You insist, but she’s already begun to sob. “He just breathed. He just breathed!” Your breath catches in your throat. So, he hadn’t said anything? Not a clue about where he was? Nothing?
You didn’t have time to dwell on it now as you pulled your mom into an embrace, the both of you crying together.
By the time everyone calms down and your mom finally gets herself to bed it’s pouring and you’re exhausted. You flop onto your bed, though it feels wrong to try and sleep knowing Will isn't right across the hall like he usually is.
You toss and turn for at least half an hour, so you’re beyond grateful at the sound of the landline in your room ringing. You assume it’s Conner finally replying to the hundreds of messages you left him, but you’re shocked when you hear the other voice on the line.
“Y/N? Are you there?”
“Mike?”
You assume he’s calling because he’s scared, just like all of you are. “Mike, is everything all right?”
The phone is silent, though you think you can hear Dustin and Lucas arguing in the background. You can hear Mike take a shaky breath, before he simply says, “We need your help.”
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icedteabri · 2 years ago
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told myself i have to finish my project before i fuck off and try to make sushi rolls for the millionth time but the rice cooker,,, it calls my name,,, my beloved <3
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sweet1delusi0ns · 9 months ago
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Naruto boys calling you ma’am ──☆*:・゚
!Slightly suggestive!
Characters: Naruto🦊,sasuke🗡️,Itachi🥀, kakashi🍃, kiba🐺, shikamaru🀄️,shino🪲,neji🎋,Lee🥋,choji🍥,gaara⏳,kankuro🪆
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Naruto🦊-*
He’s sassy so ofc he’s gunna piss you off by calling you “ma’am” making you feel old. Normally when you scold him over stupid things he refers to you as that-
“Did you think about how dangerous that is?!” “No ma’am!” “use your little head before doing something dumb!” “Yes ma’am!” “ok stop with the ma’am I feel like a teacher scolding a bad student” “what you gunna smack me with a ruler?” Rolls eyes “I will if you don’t keep quiet!” “Whatever you say! Ma’am~” “I’ll be back with the ruler.” “WHAT?!”
Sasuke🗡️-*
He uses it nonchalantly or when he’s being goofy. Like everytime he leaves home you always say “be safe baby” and he always responds with “yes ma’am.” In a serious tone. He knows you worry that one day he may not come back so he must reassure you!
“Be safe Sasuke. I expect you home by 10!” “Yes ma’am, i will I promise. I must go now! I’ll see you at dinner darling” you whisper “it’s cute when you call me that” right before he closes the door (he heard it anyways)
Itachi🥀-*
He is such a good boyfriend honestly. He’s the kind of guy to do little tasks for you when you ask. So normally when your to lazy all you gotta do is ask him to do it instead!
“Tachi, can you please get me some more water?” “Yes ma’am!!!” Very rare times you ask him to do something without him responding with a “yes ma’am~”
Kakashi🍃-*
His mouth gets himself in trouble, sometimes he says things that could be viewed a different way without realizing it. For example he once said you remind him of a frog. I don’t know how it’s a compliment but he meant it as one…which obviously you didn’t know
“ARE YOU CALLING ME AN UGLY FROG KASHI?!” “N-no ma’am! That’s not what I mea-” “NO I KNOW WHAT YOU MEANNNN! YOU THINK IM SLIMEY TOAD” you start smiling once you realize how silly this really is “no I swear I meant it in a nice way!!!” “WELL-…did you call me ma’am?” “Uhm…depends do you not like it” you chuckle “no I don’t mind, it’s cute.” He lets out a sigh of relief “well I guess I’ll call you that more often?~”
Kiba🐺-*
Like kakashi his mouth gets him in trouble, exept Kiba does it on purpose to try and get a rise out of you he likes it when your rough ofc that means he just teases as much as possible, but then he tries acting all innocent
He’s on his knees directly infront of your legs waiting for you to look at him “I know what your doing Kiba. It’s not gunna work” he flashes the puppy eyes “well I’m not doing anything y/n🥺” “so your serious not trying to get a rise out of me?” “Noooo ma’am” you grab his face with your hand rather aggressively“is this want you want puppy?” A very quiet “Yes” could be heard from him
Shikamaru🀄️-*
He only calls you ma’am when you nag him about doing chores or helping you cook, he knows he can’t say no but “maam” is his only way of back talk
“Hey Shika be a dear and take out the trash” “ahhh yes anything for you ma’am.” He responded in the most sarcastic voice he could make “watch that tone babe!” “Yeah yeah whatever, such a pain” “I’ll show you pain.” A water bottle was soon thrown directly at his head LOL
Shino🪲-*
Call me weird but I feel like if he was going to call you something like that he would call you mistress instead but that’s for another time! When he does call you ma’am it’s mostly because he admires your leadership. You guys would be testing battle strategy and when you command him into a certain position you could here his cheerful “yes ma’am” while he runs into position
Neji🎋-*
He only uses it to get out of trouble actually. When he does something he isn’t supposed to he tries lying abt what he did
“Neji. Were you in my drawers?” “What!!! No ma’am that is absurd I would never dig through your shirt drawer!” You look at him with a blank stare “I never said it was my shirt drawer. Time to fess up pretty.” He sighs loudly. “Fine yes. But only because I missed your scent!!!” “Awwwww…kinda creepy but cute!!”
Lee🥋-*
Your like his own personal Inspirator. You give him pep talk like every single day and being the energy ball he is he is so hyped to hear about it
“Are you gunna train hard today?” “Yes ma’am!” “And you going to be proud of yourself no matter what?!” “Yes ma’am!!!!!” “Are you not gunna over work yourself for me?” “YES MA’AM!!!!”
Choji🍥-*
Again he takes your authority very seriously! So ma’am is fitting when your taking charge of every day things. Even if your not trying to be all serious he will always respect your power but he also looks to you for guidance
“Hey handsome you said you needed me?” “Yes y/n-chan. I figured you could help me with this?” You sigh “the only way I’ll be of help is if you do what I tell you too, can you…do that?” “Yes ma’am! I’m a very good listener!” You giggle “cute now let’s get started”
Gaara⏳-*
He has mommy issues and your strong and independent ofc he’s gunna call you names like that and ask for you to take care of him?! You love babying him anyways but it’s always so cute when he’s had a rough day mentally wise and the first thing he does is go to you
“Y/n, may we please have some alone time…” he asked shyly “of course rose, bad mental day?” You open your arms to him “yes ma’am. It was hard today.” He comments before hopping in your arms waiting for you to make everything better
Kankuro🪆-*
He calls you ma’am when your all mad at him for being bratty “but I was just checking out your new pants!” “You expect me to believe that you were just looking at my pants and not my ass?” “Yes ma’am” kinda like Kiba he wants you to be rough with him ok. He’s just trying to tease so you do something about it which you don’t because your strong, and it’s funner to just calling him a brat and watching him squirm at the insults
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depressedcoffeeobsess · 1 month ago
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╰𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐝𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚 𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞.ᐟ
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Pairing(s): James Potter x fem!Reader
Summary: James would do anything for a date with you.
Warnings: none!
Word count: 680 words!
Note(s): Im loving the picture on the right side :)
:the question and answer are both from google
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THE MARAUDERS WERE sitting at the library. Rare sight really. Well it was no doubt that you'd seen remus at the library. Fifth year kicked in hard with the owls so near. You and lily were working so hard, that you both decided to take a break.
You took your seat infront of James, with a book in hand. This was the break for you. Though Sirius merely doubted that. Lily had gone off to find books. You were currently reading your charms book.
“hey, will you go out on a date with me?” James was always asking you to go out with him. You considered it for once but never again.
“I've already told you my answer Potter,” you would say it every time. “and if you don't already know it's no”
“come on.” he said it in a kind of a sing a song tone. “just once, please” oh for the love of merlin.
You could tell remus was already regretting his life. So instead of that you started a bookworm conversation with him. You loved remus (no not in that way) because he was the only one you could properly relate to. You both loved talking about extra nerdy things going out in hogwarts.
“will you go out with me now?” James was starting to get a little irritated because of Remus. He didn't like watching people talking to—his future wife—you. This occurred especially when Remus was talking to you.
“no” you said blankly. You didn't want to hurt his feeling but you also didn't want to go through break ups and all that drama. You weren't one for drama like that.
“please?”
“no”
“please?” in a desperate tone
“nope” popping the ‘P’ out.
“please?”
“oh fine!” James’ eyes lit up. “on one condition...”
“and that is?” he was quite eager now. Sirius and Remus were just too shocked to not be letting flies into their mouths. You had said yes to James out of all the guys in a line for you.
“answer this question and I'll go out with you” typical nerd.
James huffed. “why is it always about studies?” he was getting bored now. (Not of you)
“because you need to study to get a good career,” you were smiling all the way. James and Sirius mentally rolled their eyes, while Remus was nodding. You were pretty confident he couldn't do it. You pretended to flip through your charms book just to find a paper with pre wrote questions. You looked at them and glanced up at James, smirking evily. “Explain the difference between a Crucio and an Imperio curse.”
“uh, funny thing,” he laughed nervously. “Is that wormy I see there pads?”
You sighed and mentally face palmed. “seriously? Are you that dumb? That was a basic question!” (this line was for you rese)
“fine if you're so good why don't you answer it y/l/n” James looked like he was pretty confident too. His ego was obviously at it's fullest.
“Crucio causes extreme torture, while Imperio puts the victim under the caster's control” you seemed like you were reading out of a book. You had your eyes closed and a finger pointed up.
James' mouth went open. His jaw dropped to the floor. “I obviously knew that” he huffed.
You rolled your eyes and set of to find lily. James' eyes followed your figure until it turned to the corner. James sighed.
“do you think she'll go out with me?” he asked this question normally.
“No”
Sirius and Remus said in unision. They were tired of James asking them a single question all the time.
“Mate, maybe she'll go out with you once you've actually read a single page of that book” Sirius didn't read either. He was just there to be James' hope.
“who likes reading these days?”
“apparently she does” remus muttered as he went back to his potions book.
“dont worry the woman will have to surrender one day!” Sirius exclaimed brightly. Honestly he was just making it worse, according to Remus.
As they usual banter on the marauders was playing in the background, you were smiling to yourself. Maybe you would consider going out with him next time.
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Bonus +
James was blabbering to Peter about how good his day went. “and then she was about to say yes!” you were. “she was?” Peter was horrified for you. “yea! I wonder how our children will look like” he said dreamily. “if you ever have any” Remus muttered.
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bunicate · 11 months ago
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satoru helping his lactating big sister :]
yk I said nanami nd suguru , nd u have the nerve to send s*toru . . . jus so yk im most likely never writing for dis man again but i felt impulsive so here is 700 words . I did dis in like 5 mins . . dnt expect cwazy
⋆⁺₊❅ ⋆ 𐙚 ₊˚ warnings ꒱ྀི incest. lactation / 18+
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“stop doing that.”
you’re careful to punctuate every word, hoping that it would somehow force him to sense at least an ounce of your desperation. you’d like to think that your misery would act as some sort of deterrent from his stream of jokes, but it only enables him.
satoru chuckles, flicking his thumbs over the raised skin.
“sorry, but no can do, sis.”
his pointer finger and thumb latch onto the hardened bud and he tugs it with a gentle force. he admires the ripple of fat before he’s doing it again. this time his attention to your aching nipple is careful but rough. it encourages a small spurt of milk that trickles down his fingers, staining your already damp blouse.
“shit,” he mutters.
he takes a few seconds to marvel at the mess before removing his fingers from the taut flesh. he places them in his mouth and lets out a deep hum. his eyes roll back in his head when the sweet coating of milk warms his tongue, but you’re utterly horrified.
“s-satoru ! you said you’d help me get the milk out , not drink it .”
he shrugs. “does it matter ?” he pushes you closer to the kitchen sink. “besides, it seems like such a waste to let it go down the drain.”
he’s seen all kinds of crazy things come from all walks of life, but just when he thought he’s seen it all, you come bustling down the hall near tears and breasts mysteriously leaking milk.
he should be concerned, he should be mortified actually, but he’s mastered the art of finding the good in the bad, the weird, and the crazy. nothing ever really surprises him anymore.
he handles this mess with such ease that it truly exasperates you. he’s unfortunately, just one of a kind.
satoru , however, believes he’s a good younger brother. after all, he’s relieving your tender breasts of milk. he’s been massaging them for well over 30 minutes, big hands groping and jiggling the plumpness, not for his amusement of course. it’s such a strenuous task, so he deserves some type of reward, right?
he gives your breast another squeeze until droplets fall into the kitchen sink, lips tingling at the sight.
“maybe you’re half cow or something . . .”
satoru flinches expectantly when your fist collides with his chest. he’s jostled backward, and he clutches his pectoral dramatically.
“it’s a joke !”
you clutch your exposed breasts timidly.
“well, it’s not funny ! I'm going through a midlife crisis and as your older sister, you could at least show me some respect , you ass !”
he doubles over in laughter, signaling his ever-growing amusement. satoru then attaches himself right back to your side, nuzzling into the side of your cheek. a snarky chuckle emits from his throat.
“as tempting as that may be, I don’t think you’re in the position to make demands.”
his hands roughly cup your breasts, pumping them while milk continually spills. his body is nearly inflamed from touching you. his chin rests on the top of your head while he tugs your fat tits.
his cock presses against his jeans, rubbing his groin against your perky butt.
“y’feel so good.”
you whine in pure defeat. how could this be going so wrong ? you’re supposed to push him away, tell him to stop, but arousal clouds your judgment. your cunt is throbbing, on the brink of an orgasm, and it only heightens when his erection slots between your ass.
“t-toru. . .”
he whistles lowly, “wow, you sound so pretty like that.”
he gradually increases his pace on both your sore nipples.
“let satoru-nii take care of you.” he bites back a wicked smile.
“say it. let me pretend to be your big brother just this once, please ?”
there’s a soft tinge in his voice that resembles a whine. the strength to resist slowly dissipates when his cock mushes against opening, and his pants fan across your ear
“satoru-nii. . .”
It’s quiet, but his sensitive ear picks up on your little cry. his mouth trails down your neck until he’s breathing over your puffy nipples .
his tongue grazes the milky bud, tasting your sweet fluid once more .
“alright, alright. I'll suck until the swelling goes down. how does that sound ? “
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rush-the-stars · 6 months ago
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Dogfight
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pairing: nicholas d. wolfwood x reader, vash the stampede x reader, vashwood x reader
wc: 4k what the actual hell lol
cw: jealousy, mild smut/suggestive content, fighting, blood, biting, marking, possessiveness. the boys are jealous of each other sorta but then get on the same page. minors dni, 18+ only
a/n: this is for an anon that asked me about jealous vashwood and then i spent days working on this and it got too big so i made an Official Fic Post rather than just answering the ask bc im insane and unwell lol this is also probs more 98 vash and wolfwood than stampede! i hope you enjoy!! banner from @/cafekitsune
∘₊✧───────────────────✧₊∘
The first time they meet you, its through a shower of gunfire. Your wild smile is all that’s left when the smoke clears.
Wolfwood thinks he hasn’t seen anyone so damn beautiful in his entire life—streaked with blood and eyes lit up like a flame, twirling a twin pair of pistols like fucking ribbons.
And Vash thinks maybe he’s in love? And then he shakes his head and tries to clear it, tries to clear you from his vision, and at least the smoke disappears some. And the chaos stills. But you smile all crooked at them, tilting your head a little in greeting and he feels wobbly all over again.
“Happy to save your asses,” you say, “buy me a drink?”
Vash hears wedding bells.
(It’s just church bells tolling in the distance.)
“Happy to—happ—“ Vash trips over all his words.
“Shit, I’ll buy you dinner, too.” Wolfwood says.
Vash looks at him, Wolfwood looks back. And then they’re stumbling over themselves to get up, clambering and clawing and falling over each other and they must look like foolish, scrapping dogs in the dirt at your feet.
You laugh, though, warm and amused.
“Settle down, boys. bar’s still standing—you can both buy me a drink.”
And they’re left to watch you walk away and talk to Meryl, whose shaking her head and rolling her eyes at them. You introduce yourself to her.
And they both scramble after your heels, right on the tails of your skirts.
***
You sleep with Wolfwood first—
He’s surprisingly gentlemanly with you, even if you can feel the desperation and hunger that he tries to keep so far from the surface. He’s all bravado, all honeyed words and little growled praises as he squeezes the fat of your hips.
He gets you so wet it’s almost embarrassing, except that he also makes you come so hard that you forget about it almost immediately. He adores being between your legs, adores tasting and taking—being on his knees for you.
Wolfwood is a worshipful man. Devoted. Adoring. With a little grit and bite when you need it.
He leaves a mark or two. Around your collar bones or neck. One on your hip. He can’t help himself.
He takes good care of you in that brutishly charming way of his—fucks deep and hard, carves his way through you and makes you toss your head back into the pillow and pull at his hair. He loves to please, loves to be told what to do or what you want. Take what you need, pretty girl. He hums to you, groaning when you tell him how good he feels.
Rarely impatient except when you rile him up, Wolfwood makes a good lover. Fun and obedient and affectionate.
You adore him.
***
Wolfwood and Vash get testy with each other.
Tensions are high—Vash is surprisingly sharp with him, in a way that makes you a little wary, treating him like a bit of a ticking time bomb.
Wolfwood doesn’t help. He’s an instigator and if there’s one thing he loves, it’s to get under someone’s skin. Especially someone like Vash, whose usually easy and cheerful and kind.
“Would you leave it?” Vash snaps at Wolfwood, shoving the man’s hand off his shoulder. He bares his teeth a little and in the dim light you see the knife-sharp flash of his pointed canines.
“I was just trying to be friendly,” Wolfwood drawls in a way that indicates he most certainly wasn’t just trying to be friendly.
“Something the matter?” You ask and when Vash’s eyes land on you, he immediately softens. He looks guilty. Hangs his head a little and looks at the ground.
“No,” he says, “sorry—“
But Wolfwood says, “Blondie’s got his panties in a bunch about something and I was just trying to see what was wrong—“
Vash’s eyes flash.
“Nick,” you snap. Short and sharp, like reprimanding a dog.
He looks at you. You look back. Then you jerk your head to tell him to get lost, “take a hike.”
“And who made you the boss?” He snarks.
You level him with a more serious look, hand on your hip, “I’ll find you later.”
“You can’t just order me—“
“I wanna talk to Vash.” You respond firmly, “and you’re being a jackass.”
He stares at you for another long moment. You don’t back down, in fact you tip your chin up a little, meeting his eyes with a flash of authority.
He looks at Vash, who quickly glances away.
He scoffs, “whatever. You’re both a pain in my ass.” But he listens to you and skulks off.
You turn to Vash when he’s out of ear shot, “you okay?” You ask.
Vash can’t look at you. “Yeah, I’m sorry about that—“
“Not your fault. He can be a pest. Walk with me?” You ask and now you hold up the crook of your elbow.
Vash eyes you uncertainly for a moment, before he lets go of a small breath, and siddles up to your side. He loops his arm through yours and you begin to guide him through this little, nowhere town. The sun is setting. The dusk sky is smoky and golden, like a quartz glittering, shadowed and shining.
“You seem—“ You choose your words carefully, “troubled lately.” And then you amend, “more troubled than usual.”
“I’m sorry to worry you but everything’s fine.” Vash shakes his head.
“Vash,” you implore gently, shaking his arm a little. “I can tell something’s bothering you. Won’t you tell me?”
“Ah,” Vash says weakly, “it’s alright.” And he looks ahead, out at the horizon. You follow his gaze. There's nothing out there but the line of land in the distance.
“Thanks for standing up for me tonight but you should—you should go find him. He’ll be waiting for you.”
And then Vash drops your arm and walks away, his head down, a little furrow to his brows. And you watch him go, dumbfounded.
When you return to Wolfwood, he’s waiting for you on the porch of the little inn you're staying at, smoking a cigarette.
“What the hell was that all about?” He gruffs, blowing the smoke from the corner of his mouth.
You don’t answer him at first. You slip into his lap easily. He raises his eyebrows in slight surprise, but immediately adjusts, one hand around your waist, the other holding his cigarette away from you.
“You need to leave him be.” You say, sighing as you sink into his embrace.
He pauses for a moment, looks at you—really looks at you.
Then he says, “he wants you, you know.”
“Is that what this is about? Are you jealous? Is that why you’re pestering him?” You rub your knuckle against his stubbly jaw, pet him a little. He leans into the touch, nudging himself against your hand.
"You like him?" He asks instead.
"Course I like Vash." You hush, fingers moving to card through his hair.
He takes a slow drag from his cigarette before he leans away to blow the smoke away from you. It lingers in the air around him and for a moment, you look at him through the haze. The smell of it reminds you so thoroughly of him nowadays that you almost crave it when its not around.
"No," Wolfwood corrects, "do you like him the way you like me?"
"You think I like you?" You tease, but he doesn't take kindly to that and jostles you in his lap a little and even goes so far as to jerk his head away from your touch.
"Woah, take it easy," you say, realizing he really didn't like that joke, "I was only playin' with you. I'm in your lap, aren't I?"
He softens a little. Lets go of a breath. He squeezes your waist, maybe in apology. To soothe the ache, you lean forward and press a kiss to his jaw, pepper them lightly down his neck.
"You didn't answer the question." He mumbles and you feel more than you see him flick his cigarette down and crush it with the heel of his shoe. He pulls you closer now that his other hand is free, slots you tight against him, and leans back to give you more room at his neck.
"Would you be mad if I said yes?" You murmur, carefully kissing at the pulse in his neck. You hide there.
"If i was?"
"You aren't good at sharing?" You coo, nudging your nose against his jaw, up to catch him in a quick kiss. He nips a little in answer.
"Not usually," he finally says.
"Not even with Vash?" You ask, because you know him better than he'd like to admit. And now you pull away to look at him.
To really look at him.
His eyes flick away, maybe bashfully, "yeah, well—I don't think I'm the one you have to worry about."
"What do you mean?" You ask.
He shrugs a little, "you think cause he puts up the goody-two-shoes act that it makes him good with sharing?" He asks, "why do you think he's gotten so pissed with me lately?"
You hum in acknowledgement. "Have you been rubbing it in?" You ask.
"Not intentionally." He says. And then when you look at him more pointedly, he admits, "not intentionally most of the time."
"Well, we'll see if Vash can share." You finally say and lean again to kiss him.
But in a sudden move, he grabs your chin, forces you still. Forces you to look at him.
"Only Vash, you hear me?" He says. His eyes are dark suns, all encompassing and imploring and fiery, "anyone else and I'll lose it."
You can't tell if it's a warning with the slight waver in his voice or a threat, with the growl behind the end of it. And then you remember scared dogs bite.
"Only Vash." You swear, "only you."
He settles a little, leans back again, and this time, when you kiss him, it's harder. More a claiming than a kiss — more a damning than a passion. He gives it back tenfold.
He litters you in little marks, in his scent, and drops his blazer around your shoulders in the morning. At breakfast, right in front of Vash, he catches you in a sharp, burn of a kiss.
More of a claiming. More of a damning.
***
When you sleep with Vash for the first time, it’s after a near-death experience. You were being reckless. The room is charged.
And Vash kisses you not like it’s the first time, but like it could be the last. He's the heat of a falling star, searing you, devouring you. He's all desperation. All starvation.
You'd thought with how sweet he usually was, that he'd be even more well behaved than Wolfwood, but that is far from the truth. He's a little untamed, untrained and clumsy and ferocious.
He whines as he takes you apart and you think he'd probably take praise well if you could teach him but right now he's just so— raw. So yearning and famished with it all.
You've no choice but to try and give everything you can in hopes of soothing him in some way. Filling the emptiness in him. And even still, you're aching and sore and torn-up after all is said in done.
Vash is bashful and a little remorseful about it come morning.
But you twine your arms around him and kiss him hard in reassurance. In encouragement.
He's passionate and all-encompassing. He's all your world in this moment.
You adore him.
Later, when Wolfwood sees the marks he left on you, he curses.
"Is he a fucking vampire?" He asks, tilting your head to the side to see the dark bruise in the side of your neck. But then he realizes how tender you are still, how aching, and he coos all soft.
Tells you he'll lick the wounds Vash gave you.
Says. I told you it wasn't me you had to worry about.
Vash avoids you and Wolfwood for nearly two days.
On the third, he finally breaks.
And when he does, he bundles you in his red coat after a long day, fists his hands in the collar of it to pull you towards him, and kisses you hard in front of Wolfwood, underneath the dark heavens above. He says he'll be back later.
Your lip throbs from the nip of his teeth.
(When Wolfwood kisses you shortly after, pushing Vash's coat from your shoulders, he soothes the sting with his tongue.)
***
For awhile, all the boys do is fight when they're around each other. It's getting to a point where Meryl is avoiding them at all costs—and you're just short of joining her.
The worst of it is on one of the hottest days in a long time.
Wolfwood says something he shouldn't—asks Vash if he could smell his cologne on you. Asks if he likes it.
It's too far. Usually, they bicker and fight over unrelated, stupid shit.
But that strikes a nerve.
And it's so fast that you don't even catch it, and suddenly Vash has Wolfwood pinned against the wall, hands fisted in the front of his shirt.
You always thought, maybe just on height and weight alone, that Wolfwood was stronger. But looking at Vash now, easily pinning him, you aren't quite sure.
"Oh, you wanna finally fight?" Wolfwood asks, baring his teeth, too.
And really, it's like when dogs fight.
It's fast and vicious. It sounds worse than it is—snarling and growling and wrestling with each other. It's artless. You've seen them both in a fight and this isn't—this isn't that. It's better, maybe, on Wolfwood's end. He's not trying to kill Vash. But maybe it's also worse, more personal, more brutal.
You hear Vash yelp—Wolfwood curses. More fighting.
You yell at them, the way you shout at fighting dogs, grab hold of Wolfwood around the collar and pull hard enough that he stops from his place over Vash, panting.
His mouth is bloody and it drips down onto Vash, his teeth still bared and crimson.
For a moment, they look at each other.
(And Vash thinks wildly, looking up at Wolfwood, sorry about the blood in your mouth. I think I wish it was mine. He tastes blood himself and wonders if it is Wolfwood's. If he really did bite him.
Wolfwood thinks, hit me again. If that's all you'll give me now, I'll take it. Wolfwood looks down at Vash, feels his heaving chest beneath him, and thinks, if I can only have you this close in a fight, I'll take that, too.)
You're cursing them both out, hauling Wolfwood off of him. You're furious and shaking and you're scolding them both.
You're fussing over them both, too, angrily wiping at their mouths and inspecting their wounds.
And they both think, maybe I should pick more fights, to see you like this, too, flustered and livid and worried. Doting. Adoring.
You shake your head at the both of them but—
You adore them.
***
It takes another man sniffing around you for them both to finally get on the same page.
And if it's one thing about Vash and Wolfwood, for all their bickering and differences, they know when to shut up and work together.
The moment another man starts chatting you up at the bar, they both go still and silent.
"You see what I'm seeing?" Wolfwood asks.
"Yeah," Vash says, eyes narrowing behind his glasses as the man manages to make you laugh. He leans all close to you. Vash has a near visceral reaction to jerk up from his seat beside Wolfwood.
Wolfwood grabs his arm.
"You thinkin' what I'm thinkin' then?" He asks.
Vash spares him only a glance—his eyes are trained on you and the man at your side. He grimaces. "Probably not. I don't wanna kill him."
Wolfwood barks out a laugh as Vash adds, "but I don't want him here, either."
"You wanna chase him off?" He asks. "Or you want me to be the bad guy?"
Vash swallows.
"She'll get mad at me for being an asshole. She'll be all pleased with you for being so good." He says and there's a dryness to his tone, a certain resignation or—
"Why would you do that?" Vash asks and he finally peels his eyes away long enough to look at Wolfwood.
To really look at him.
He shrugs, "I don't mind being in the dog house."
Vash eyes him.
Wolfwood smiles a little, "and I think she's hot when she's mad."
Vash frowns at that, a little twitch of his lips, almost in a pout. "Besides that—I meant—why would you do that for me?"
Wolfwood looks back over at the man at the bar, whose gotten even closer to you, his shoulder almost brushing yours. You're smiling and playing nice. Wolfwood's hackles rise. He bristles. He finally stands, too.
He never feels this way when he sees you with Vash. He never feels this way on the nights when Vash has you. In fact, the idea of it is—it's—
Kissing you after Vash. Knowing he'd just kissed you. Sinking his teeth into the ridges of marks Vash leaves on you, like he's trying to get his own taste. Or compare his teeth to Vash's. Maybe he growls and snaps at him and bares his teeth the next day, too, but he never feels like this.
Scared and mean and angry and—
"What, are you gonna make me fuckin' say it?" Wolfwood snaps.
"Say what?!"
Wolfwood slugs his arm hard. The flesh one, so he doesn't damn near break his knuckles doing it. And Vash yelps all high and Wolfwood wants to shake him and he also sorta wants to hit him again. And maybe he wants to kiss him stupid, too—
"I don't—" Wolfwood swallows hard, "I don't mind sharing. With you. With only you."
Wolfwood looks at him.
Really looks at him.
And then Vash turns the deepest shade of red.
Wolfwood's face gets hot all over, too. "Oh, Christ, blondie—did you really not know?"
"I don't know what I thought!" Vash says and his voice gets sorta high.
"Well—" Wolfwood shifts, uncharacteristically nervous, "what about—I mean, do you—are you okay sharing...with me?"
"At first, I thought I wasn't." Vash admits, "and I was jealous of—" he swallows, "I was jealous of both of you, if I think about it. You're just—you push my buttons more than she does—so. I took it out on you, mostly."
"Ah," Wolfwood says, "you took it out on her, too. Just in a different way."
Vash cheeks somehow get darker with color and Wolfwood laughs, realizing that he's—it's relief. He feels relieved, finally, as he laughs.
"You're a dumbass." He says to Vash.
And Vash smiles at him, crooked and boyish and stupidly handsome. That smile that Wolfwood has always liked.
Wolfwood then turns his gaze back to you, back to the man at the bar whose leaning in all close. He sees you tip away, adjusting your space. And he says;
"Now let's go get our girl."
The moment Wolfwood comes up behind you, you know there will be trouble unless this man doesn't leave quick — what you aren't expecting, is Vash to come up on the other side of the man. You tilt your head.
You feel a broad hand on your lower back, "he botherin' you?" Wolfwood asks, leaning all into your space.
The man sizes up Wolfwood, weighing his chances still and you can nearly feel Wolfwood stiffen and bristle behind you. He doesn't like being challenged.
"He was just seeing if I wanted a drink."
Vash, on the other side of the man says, "maybe he'd like it if I bought him a drink instead!" And though it's said brightly, it's almost a little too bright.
Vash's eyes gleam like the cold edge of bright moons.
You look between them for a moment as the man says, "alright, what the hell is this? You her boyfriend or something?"
"Or something." Wolfwood agrees casually.
"And whose this guy?" He snarks to Vash, "her other boyfriend?"
"Or something." Vash says, still smiling, and that really pisses the guy off.
"Would you back up?" He snaps and he shoves at Vash enough that he stumbles away a few steps. And before he can do something stupid, you put yourself between Wolfwood and the man.
"Leave him," you say lowly to Wolfwood, whose hackles are raised.
Wolfwood isn't looking at you, he's looking at the man behind you and his eyes are hard and cold and mean looking.
"Nick," you say, "I don't want a bar fight."
"Worried he can't handle me?" The man asks, "no wonder you were letting me chat you up."
Wolfwood jerks a little in your hold and Vash speaks up, laughing a little, "no reason to fight! Wouldn't want to clean you up off the floor."
Well, that does it.
The man swings on Vash, who yelps a little, but easily evades him. When he ducks, the man connects with another person behind Vash.
Damn it all.
The bar breaks out in pandemonium. Wolfwood shoves you beneath him and Vash works on ducking and diving out of the way of the first few swings sent his way. Shouting and glass shattering, raining down from above, makes you curse.
Wolfwood dodges the first punch thrown his way and he shoves you out of the way, before he takes a swing himself. When he connects, it's a nasty punch. Blood erupts.
Food is getting thrown. Alcohol sailing overhead, soaking the fighting crowd and angering them further. The poor bartender is hiding, ducking behind the counter and shivering.
You clamber atop the bar to get a look and—it's a wild crush of people, fighting and wrestling and breaking glass over each other's heads.
You put your fingers to your mouth and whistle—the loud, piercing kind that usually gets everyone's attention. This time, there's so much noise and shouting, that not a soul stops their fighting.
You pull out one of your pistols.
The shot thunders in the bar, makes your ears ring.
Everyone gasps and yells in surprise, instinctively ducking, covering their heads. But they all finally turn to look at you.
"Everyone out!" You shout, "take your fighting elsewhere!"
Grumbles erupt. But you hold up your pistol and shout again, with more force and fire, "out!"
The bar begins to stir, all the patrons dislodging and shifting about, detangling themselves from their fights. They meander in knots of people, twisting out the door slowly.
When Vash and Wolfwood appear again, they look disheveled and Vash's lip is busted. Wolfwood's sunglasses are shattered. You put your hands on your hips as you look down at them.
"What the hell am I supposed to do with you two?" You snap.
Wolfwood reaches up to lift you right off the bar and back onto the ground in front of him. He shrouds you, "nurse our wounds?" He asks.
"You're a pain in the ass. I told you I didn't want a bar fight."
"He didn't throw the first punch, in his defense." Vash speaks up, but he's talking sorta funny because of his lip, which is swelling even now.
You sigh, "let me see."
Vash siddles up to you, a little sheepish, with that puppy-dog look on his face. He bends down a little, so you can get a better look at his face, dipping his head down in a show of submission.
Woflwood, behind you, whistles. "That's a good one, blondie."
"Hurts." Vash says as you carefully inspect it, debating if he'll need stitches or not.
"You gonna kiss it better?" Wolfwood asks.
"Why don't you?" You snark back, "since you two are finally working together it seems."
Vash smiles a little, which makes him wince, which makes you scold him. Wolfwood laughs, cooing a little, before he says, "alright, alright—lets get him patched up."
And you walk out with them at your skirts, hovering around you, dogging your steps. They follow you all the way back into your little room at an inn on the edge of the world.
And they settle in like they both own the damn place.
Wolfwood is tormenting Vash a little, whose whining and coming to your side for aid. But they're both—getting along, at least. And they're both demanding all your attention and taking up space in your room and—
And you adore them. You adore both of them, even with all their damn dogfights.
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amyispxnk · 1 month ago
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Silent Night
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Summary - You're back from college for the holidays, and you've decided on exactly what you want for Christmas - Joel Miller's cock.
A/N: this was such a last minute fic im ngl rn. wasn't even planning on posting a Christmas fic, let alone my FIRST dbf joel miller smut?? anyway, i hope everyone enjoys. happy Christmas<3
Pairing: dbf!Joel Miller x f!reader
Word count: 3k
Warnings: smut, some good ole daddy kink, age gap (20+ years), Joel is pretty pervy in this, alcohol, divorce mentions. Not proofread because I'm tired
DO NOT COPY THIS FIC IN ANY WAY PLS AND TY.
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When you left for college all that time ago, Joel didn't have any strong feelings towards you. You were his best friend's kid, so naturally he saw you often, and got close with you. You were a sweet kid, kind, smart (more than him, he reckoned), and very.. determined when you wanted to be.
Now you're back for Christmas, and as he sees you exiting your dad's car, hurrying over to him, yelling “Joel! Joel! Oh, I missed you so much!” he realises how fucked up his mind might be.
Any normal guy who was reuniting with a girl he'd known since she was a teenager, and a girl he had at least 20 years on, would not be looking at how her tits bounced in her crop top, or how her leggings were tight enough to let him see just how perfect your ass was.
But Joel wasn't normal, he wasn't a good man, so he was looking for all of those things. If he'd actually been looking at your face, maybe he'd have seen you smirking. Maybe he'd have realised you wore those clothes for exactly this reason.
-
Joel, or dad's best buddy, Mr Miller, as you'd known him until you were 16 and couldn't be bothered to pay respect to your elders, had been a part of your life for a while.
Ever since your mom took off, Joel was coming around far more often and, in his own gruff and quiet way, was taking care of you more than your own father was at the time.
Nowadays, you didn't really have any resentment towards your father because of this - he'd just gotten divorced, he was going through a rough time.
But teenage you definitely did, and having Joel step in like that definitely left you with mixed feelings.
If things weren't the way they were back then, you'd probably have developed this all-encompassing crush on him even earlier.
When you were leaving for college though, the crush suddenly dived into your life, crashing down and muddling up everything you thought you knew about yourself.
Now, as you returned back home at last, you knew you had to have him, or you feared you might just lose it.
He was everything a girl.. like you, could want right now. Old, brooding, mysterious, and so fucking hot.
So as you hopped over to him where he stood in his front lawn, you made sure to hug him tight and make sure he could really feel that you weren't wearing a bra. You knew he was looking already, so why not let him feel it?
He hesitated for a moment - probably struggling with his boner which you swore you could already feel - before bringing his arms around you and clapping you on the back.
“I missed you so much, Mr Miller.” You hum sweetly, looking up at him through your eyelashes. His own eyes almost flutter shut at the name you chose to use for him, and he manages to choke out a soft missed ya too, darlin’.
That darlin’ would be enough to make you come tonight.
Your dad finally turns around after unloading your luggage and turning the car off, greeting Joel before the two of you head to your house.
-
The next day, it's Christmas Eve. Dinner rolls around, and you check over your makeup one more time. You don't want it to be too much - it would look weird, considering it was only Joel coming over (your dad was a solitary creature) - but you still had to look good for him.
The doorbell rings and you almost trip down the stairs. “I'll get it, dad!” You yell, and he thanks you, completely unaware of your motives.
You open the door, biting back a smirk when Joel immediately looks you up and down, only just managing to tear his eyes away from your chest.
“Hi, Mr Miller. It's so good to see you.” You smile sweetly.
“Hi, sweetheart… told ya y’dont have ta call me that. Joel's fine.” He says softly, eyes still a little hazy.
You step back to let him inside and immediately take one of the beers he'd brought over once he sets the case down.
“Y’old enough to drink that, honey?” He teases, mind finally out of the gutter for now.
“I'm 21 in like.. a month. It's fineeee.” You smirk, tipping your head back and taking a big swig, showing off the long column of your neck and the swell of your breasts.
His mind is back in the gutter.
Your eyes are off him for now, so he allows him to drink in the sight of you properly. A silly Christmas hat atop your curled, gorgeous hair; red sweater tight around your breasts, little candy-canes dotted around it; your skirt, far too short and he's almost certain you're teasing him now, tights underneath making him want to rip them clean off of you. Your makeup looks perfect, red lips which he knows would look perfect around his cock, mascara which he can picture smudged and ruined from tears and sweat while you fuck-
“Joel, y’made it! Cmon, sit with me.” Your dad grins, and Joel's eyes widen. What the fuck is wrong with him? He cannot be thinking that way about you.
He shakes his head, muttering something to himself before going to sit with your dad.
-
Joel finally thinks he'll have some reprieve from your incessant teasing, letting out a tired sigh as he sits on the couch, your dad on the armchair.
“Tired already, old man?” Your dad teases.
“You're older than me, asshole.” Joel grunts, earning him a chuckle.
Just then, you appear in the doorway. Of course, of-fucking-course, you'd decide to watch TV with them tonight. It's soccer, for Christ's sake, you'd always get bored out of your mind and run upstairs to go on your phone whenever the game was on.
Not today though, much to Joel's dismay.
“What're you watching?” You ask, sitting beside Joel. He tries to mask his discomfort.
“Just soccer hon, I know you don't like-” your dad starts, but you quickly cut him off.
“No, no! It's fine. I'll try watching it tonight.” You smile softly, and settle in to watch.
You clearly get bored after about 5 minutes, sighing softly.
“You really find this interesting?” You murmur to Joel, now having made yourself comfortable on his shoulder. He tried to make himself as stiff as possible when you first lay on him, but you were persistent as always, and he just gave in.
“Ain't nobody forcin’ you to watch it.” He argues, and you keep quiet after that, eventually getting up to go get the food ready.
-
Dinner is yet another trial for Joel. You've gotten just as frustrated and impatient as he is, it seems.
Leaning in front of him when serving the food, giving him a clear view of your tits. Not to mention you never serve food, set the table, but all of a sudden you're acting like little miss helpful today.
‘Accidentally’ dropping a cup and bending over in his eyeshot to pick it up.
Sitting beside him at the table instead of with your dad.
When your hand moves to his thigh, he bolts upright, earning him a look from your dad.
“Bathroom,” is all he can get out before he's rushing upstairs.
“Fucking kid. Thinks she can fuckin’.. pull all this shit with me.. thinks she can act like this in front of her dad.. fuck me.” He mutters to himself, despite undoing his belt and pulling his cock out, barely stifling his groan when he spits on his palm and starts tugging at his length so fast it's almost painful.
His mind conjures up all sorts of unholy images, and he's on the brink of release when- “Mr Miller,” you coo, knocking on the door. “is everything okay? You've been gone for like 10 minutes. Was it something in the food?”
He's so angry, so pent-up, he wants to pull you in here and just fuck that goddamn attitude out of you.
He's deathly silent, flushing, turning on the sink as he pulls his pants up, blue-balled like he'd never been before, and exiting the bathroom.
“Everything is fine.” He grits out, fists clenched as he walks past you. You eye his bulge and smirk before practically skipping down the stairs.
“He said everything's fine, daddy.” You smile to your dad, and he almost collapses. He swears he sees god for a second.
That word coming out of your mouth should absolutely not turn him on like it just did - but it did.
The rest of dinner, he's almost silent, just gulping down beer and chewing on his now cold turkey. You don't try anything with him, actually a little afraid he might just get up and leave.
Instead, you wait until the movie.
Your dad puts Die Hard on, and after a lengthy argument about whether or not it even counts as a Christmas movie, - you insist it's not and will carry that with you to the grave - you settle beside Joel.
Joel thinks he's made it through the worst of the evening, but then you shiver. You shiver again, and then you pout, and he feels obliged to ask.
“Are you cold?”
“Yeah.. can I have some of the blanket?” You whisper. Your dad is practically falling asleep in the armchair.
He goes to hand you the blanket, and you, devious as ever, put it over both of your laps, cuddling up to Joel even more.
He's on full alert right now, stiff as a log, waiting for your next game.
The movie goes on, and then your hand creeps under the sheet. Moving from the side, to your own lap, to his arm, then to his leg-
“What're you-” he grunts, but you just shush him.
“I'm trying to watch the movie, Joel.” You huff, as if your hand isn't on his cock right now.
His eyes are darting between you, the screen, his lap under the blanket, and your dad. Way too much is going on, and as you start palming him, he lets out the most pained groan. He sees you biting your lip and he's so angry, so horny, he doesn't know what to do with himself.
Your dad suddenly wakes up, and the bubble pops. You pretend you're asleep on Joel's shoulder, and you know you've won when Joel tells your dad to just go on up, that he'll make sure she gets to bed.
As soon as your dad's bedroom door shuts, Joel grabs your jaw, glaring at you.
“Exactly what the fuck do you think you're doing, little girl?” He spits, and you giggle softly.
“‘m not doing anyth- ow, Joel!” You whimper when he squeezes your cheeks together.
“You gonna tell the truth now? Gonna answer me properly?” He says, tone and eyes cold as the ice on your driveway.
You nod, trying to stifle your whimper. He eases the grip on your jaw, still holding it, before asking you again.
“What do you think you're doing?” He says through clenched teeth, and you know he's not fucking around anymore.
“I.. I just..” Fuck it, you may as well shoot your shot, otherwise what was the point of everything tonight anyway?
“I wanted you to fuck me, Joel.”
Creak goes the step at the top of your staircase, and you squeak, jumping off the couch as Joel pulls the blanket and a pillow over his lap. You rush upstairs past your dad, hurriedly bidding him goodnight before slamming your door.
“Just came to grab my phone. Everythin' alright..?” He asks, brows furrowed at your skittish behaviour.
Joel nods, and your dad leaves him alone.
His cock has been throbbing for hours. So long that it's actually painful. But now he can't do anything. You and your dad are upstairs, you'll be asleep in 5 minutes, and Joel will just have to pretend it's your pussy wrapped around his length when he fucks his fist in the guest bedroom tonight.
-
Guilt gnaws away at him as he cleans his come off of his hand and stomach, tossing the tissues into the bin before changing into some sweats and managing to fall asleep after half an hour of tossing and turning.
The world seems to hate him, since he wakes up at 2am, heading to the bathroom only to walk past your bedroom and hear you moaning. He can't make out what you're moaning - but he has a good idea - and he's thankful your doors are quiet when he opens the one to your room.
You're facing away from the door, legs spread, face in your pillow as your hips buck, fingers working your pussy furiously.
“Joel, Joel, fuck-” you gasp, whimpering as you get close.
Fuck this.
If he didn't get to come for the entire evening, you did not get to come right now.
He walks over to you, morales abandoned, and growls your name.
You squeak, biting your lip as you turn and look at him. You'd been so close, but now you're too petrified to finish.
“Joel, I-”
“Not another word.”
It's the last thing he says before he flips you back onto your stomach, pushing your head down into the pillows.
“You're gonna be a good girl and shut the fuck up while I fuck this needy pussy. You understand me?”
You part your lips to reply, earning a spank to your ass.
“Can't fuckin’ listen, can ya? No talking, baby.”
You nod, whimpering as he pushes your head back down and pulls your soaked panties off, tossing them onto the floor.
“Fuck, look at her. Drippin’ for me, ain't she? Didn't know you were such a slut, babygirl.” He teases, knuckles dragging along your slit, and you cry into the pillow, hips bucking back against his hand.
Another spank, making you moan, trying to stop your hips from bucking once more.
“You take what you're fucking given. Do you understand me?”
You nod, having learnt from your mistakes.
“Good girl. Knew you could listen for me.” He coos, before he's thrusting two of his thick fingers into your dripping heat.
You gasp and whine, moaning his name into the pillow, almost tearing your sheets with how hard you grip them.
“That's right.. moan my name. Fuckin’ slut.” He grunts, head ducking down to tease your clit with his tongue. You almost lose it, starting to clench hard and fast around his fingers. You're right on the edge when he pulls away.
“Joel!” You practically sob, deflating as your orgasm drifts away.
“Shh, shh. You thought you could tease me all night and still get off? Y’thought wrong, honey.” He coos, mocking, pulling down his sweatpants and slicking up his cock with your wetness, giving you no warning as he starts to push in.
“Ohh, fuck. Knew you'd be tight for me, baby. That's it, good girl.” He groans, bottoming out. He allows you to cry his name into the pillow, but when he starts really fucking you, it gets too much.
He pulls out to the tip before slamming back into you, making you almost scream, back arching and hips bucking - unsure if you want him to get out, or fuck you even harder.
He decides for you, starting to pound into you. The only sounds in the room are your broken moans, his heavy breathing, and the rhythmic slapping of skin on skin.
“Joel- Joel- pl-please I'm gonna come- please Daddy-” you moan, and his hips stutter before he's pulling you up by your hair, his back to your chest when he resumes his aggressive thrusts.
“Shut- the fuck- up.” He pants in-between thrusts, and you whimper, brows drawing together as you get close. He starts rubbing your clit and you see stars, unable to stop yourself from coming.
“Fuckfuckfuck yes, yes daddy- oh my god-” you sob, before he's pulling out and manhandling you onto your back, thrusting back inside to the hilt, palm covering your mouth.
“You better shut up right now unless you want your real daddy to wake up, find us here like this-” you curse silently when you clench around him at the thought - what is wrong with you?
“Oh, you like that? Dirty fucking girl. Such a slut for daddy, huh?” You clench tighter at that, and his thrusts speed up, pace irregular. “Yeah, you fuckin’ like that.”
His hand leaves your mouth and you cover it yourself, not wanting to anger him anymore.
“‘s okay, baby.” He murmurs, taking your hand from your mouth and leaning down to kiss you. As he does, his hand goes to your clit, and you moan loudly, muffled slightly by the kiss, as your back arches off the bed and you come so hard you see stars, setting off his own release and making him groan, biting your shoulder as he fills you up.
It's quiet for a moment, save for your shared panting, before he pulls out.
“Fuck, honey..” he murmurs, watching your shared fluids dribble out of your cunt, gathering them up on his fingers and pushing them back into your tight hole.
“Made such a mess, didn't we?” He says softly, brushing your hair away from your eyes as you giggle softly, nodding.
“That was so good.” You whisper, and he nods, gathering you up in your arms.
“Joel, you can't stay in here-” you mutter, confused.
“Just relax, honey. I'll leave in the mornin’. Just let me hold you for now.”
You're utterly perplexed, but you're definitely not complaining, swallowed up by his warmth and drifting off within a minute.
-
The next morning, you're opening presents, and you bite your lip when he reads his card from you. At the bottom, you'd added - come to my room afterwards for the second part of your gift - and when he comes upstairs afterwards, it's safe to say he doesn't leave for a good hour.
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Dividers by @adornedwithlight <3
Thank you sm for reading, I hope you enjoyed! Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated! Have a good Christmas everyone!! ❤️
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mono-dot-jpeg · 1 year ago
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boy failures for u - i. yoichi, s. nagi, s. ryusei, b. meguru
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summary; in which some boys just love you so much, they simply can't function
genre/extra tags; scenarios, fluff, comedy, projecting my love for dog energy boys, they're so pathetic /pos, bachira is clumsy, ryusei is an embarrassingly horny dude (can confirm, he gets no bitches, absolutely ZERO play!!), nagi... is perfect as he is, yoichi,,,, is just socially awkward around people he has a crush on
[gender neutral reader]
a/n; look at me being fancy this one panel banner, slay. tbh i couldn't think of a good three photos to use for it so i tried this which is kind of nice. anyways i had a sudden thought hit me and it must be done. and what better anime to write for than the one where everyone has unexplainable gay tension between each other. i swear im as caught up as possible i think and i swear the gay tension is like,, crazy.
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isagi yoichi is endearing. he's so bad at being normal around you. his face flushed a cute red, and his words barely managing to leave his mouth as you talk to him so sweetly. he doesn't know how to handle a crush. and it's so cute to tease him because he just doesn't know how to respond properly.
the times where he does manage to gain enough confidence to talk a conversation with you, he's never taking the lead in any of them. he's talking [somewhat] normally to you, answering your questions and [attempting] to reply to your thoughts and responses. of course, just don't flirt with him too hard. there's like a 50 percent chance he will understand it or not.
he can't even admire you correctly. when he attempts to give you a compliment, he's saying all the wrong words and apologizing profusely like he offended your entire bloodline. he's so utterly enchanted by you, he wonders if you're an angel sent just for him.
"you're so nice, y/n." "huh?" "i-i mean you're really cute! wait- i didn't mean that! fuck- not that i don't think you look cute! you're really a great person, you know?! sorry! i'm just gonna go back to practice...!"
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nagi seishiro is so lazy that you can't help but watch over him. you understand why reo adores him (a little too much). he's a boy with pretty privilege and talent. he talks to you with such honesty that he unintentionally flirts with you. he doesn't know a lot of things well, but even he's had his fair share with understanding liking people (but that's only with the random dating sims he's tried).
when he manages to get on his feet, whether it's for a soccer match or you, he's stuck by you like a cute koala. he whines about everything being "too much of a hassle." but he finds himself walking around looking for you, no matter how far you are. he whines to you about how he had to get up to find you, and he's cuddling close to you. his mouth turned into his signature X shape as he pouts at you, annoyed that you just had to be away from him for more than a minute.
he tries so hard to be around you but at the cost of his laziness, he mutters to you about how much easier it would be if you just stay with him all the time like his purple-haired companion or his cactus pet. he fell for you first, but he makes it so easy for you to fall harder.
"why do you always have to do stuff?" "it's my job, sei." "you should just stay with me all the time. you take care of me so well."
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shidou ryuusei is annoyingly desperate for you. if isagi was endearing, shidou was insolent. he speaks before he thinks. he has no shame in chasing after you. it's quite a feat that you haven't even shooed him away as much as sae has. you sort of find a friend in sae because of that. he always rolls his eyes when you mention him. he wonders why you keep being around the blonde jock, and you tell him, "who doesn't love a pathetic man?"
when he talks to you, he just can't read a room with you in it. he's the type of guy to say "this shot is for you." and it hits the goal post and then to his face. of course he'd never actually miss in a real match but i can guarantee that it would happen during a practice match. he unintentionally humiliates himself every time he tries to be cool. if sae is there, it's even worse. he's trying to bump up the flirting up to a 200 and failing miserably to woo either of you.
he's like those tweets where it's like, "how did i pull them? easy. i just went, PLEASEPLEAPLSEPWPLEAPLELA-". without fail, he basically tries to re-enact that but he doesn't even pull you because you'd much rather wait for him to actually be a decent man and grow the rest of his brain. though it doesn't seem he'll learn his lesson anytime soon.
"did i ever tell you how hot you look right now?" "yes. you have. multiple times. today." "please go out with me." "no."
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bachira meguru is confusing. he's clingy, blunt, teasing, a little stupid but has the spirit, and an absolute cutie. he's passionate about what he likes. and surprise, surprise, he likes you. he's an infodumper but you don't mind at all. but sometimes those talks take a hard left into just telling you how much he likes you. you better hope you're strong because he will be jumping on you for a hug.
when he's just buzzing with excitement, he can't help but scramble by your side to cling onto you in any way that you will allow him to. he's not as boy failure as the others on this list because even when he fails to capture your heart, he's still succeeding in his book. he loves when you give him any sliver of attention. that's probably his thing as a boy failure. he is a hyper and needy dog who's too big to cuddle with but doesn't care. and you can't say no because then they just stare at you with those big eyes until you cave.
he's the type of guy to be confused when people ask if you're dating him and you say no. "what do you mean we're not dating? i thought this was the dating." he's never actually confessed, but he considers his "s-tier affection" to be confession enough. but he's kind of coward whether he realizes it or not. he's scared to actually say that he wants to be yours, but that's like an angsty story for another time, SO SHUT.
"what if we kissed? like right now?" "but we're not dating, meguru." "we're not? we should." "i'll think about it." "no think! just do!"
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enhas-pov · 4 months ago
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enemies by blood
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summary: born in a mafia family definitely wasn’t easy. especially when your dad’s enemy’s son, park sunghoon goes to your school. reader and sunghoon grew up hating each other due to their father’s bad past with each other, but what’s gonna happen when they want their kids to finish what they started?
warnings: (gang)violence, lots of fighting, murder, blood, drugs, money laundering, guns, kissing, usage of "oppa", pet names, bad ending
word count: 4.5k
note: i haven’t read through it‼️ ignore spelling mistakes
pt.2
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my whole life i`ve felt like an outsider. people always look at me weird, they give me dirty looks, but at the same time theyre afraid of me. all because of my family.. my dad to be specific. since before i was born, my dad has been a part of this mafia gang thingy where drugs, guns, killing, and all of that stuff was involved. so growing up i was taught most of those things. id say im pretty good at fighting, and using guns. my mom on the other hand died when i was 10, she was killed by some guy that my dad was having problems with.. ive never met someone who can relate to me whatsover, except for park sunghoon.
sunghoon goes to the same school as me and grew up exactly like i did, and when i say exactly i mean EXACTLY. his dad is a part of a mafia gang too, so sunghoon grew up involved with that as well just like i did, and guess what? his mom got killed by a guy his dad was having problems with as well. if you put two and two together.. my dad killed sunghoons mom so sunghoon`s dad killed my mom, which is one of the reasons why sunghoon and i grew up hating each other.
my dad told me that him and mr. park used to be a part of the same gang, they were actually really close friends until something happened between the two of them that ruined their friendship and caused them to turn on each other. basically, my dad and mr. park were planning a huge drug deal, but for some reason mr. park tipped off the cops to make sure all the money made off the drug deal would be his, so when my dad got arrested for it he spent 10 years in prison. and when he got out he killed sunghoons mom as revenge, but when mr. park killed my mom for revenge because of his wife`s death, it made things worse between the two.
i was sat in the backseat of the fancy car i was driven to school with everyday by my dads personal driver, min. i was not allowed to walk to school and especially not alone. my dad told me there are people who know about me and that since im his daughter they kinda want me dead.. which is understandable? i guess, considering the kind of shit my dad does to these people. "were here, miss y/l/n" my driver says, parked right in front of my school. "thank you-" i was two seconds away from getting out of the car before i was stopped by my drivers very concerned voice. "wait, mr. park is right behind us. would you like to wait?" i rolled my eyes at his words, not giving a care in the world about park fucking sunghoon. "i`m okay. thank you, min"
the second i made my way out of the car i was met with sunghoons tall figure stood not too far behind me. he threw a glare at me that i quickly returned which he rolled his eyes at. as we both started walking to the entryway of our school, we were pretty much walking next to each other, obviously, since we were going the same way. "thought the teacher told you to cover up?" he suddenly says, referring to my choice of clothing, his eyes looking straight ahead as hes avoiding any and all eye contact with me.
"you were the one who went complaining to our teacher about it, acting like what i was wearing wasn’t making your dick hard" he only chuckled at my words. once we reached the entryway, he opened the door and stood to the side. he grinned, "ladies first" he said. i gave him a fake smile and walked through the open door. right as he was about to walk in from behind me, i slammed the door shut in his face and locked it so he couldn`t get in no matter what. i watched him banging on the door and yelling at me to open it. "oppa! i think the back door is open" i said loud enough for him to hear, knowing its a good 5 minute walk to get there. i laughed at how furious he was before making my way to class.
i guess you could say me and sunghoon act childish with each other sometimes. we argue a lot over dumb, unnecessary and small shit for no reason. we could choose to ignore each other but since i have it out for him and he has it out for me, its hard not to say anything every time we come across each other. we`re not exactly like our dads. we dont pull a gun on each other every time we cross paths, but do not get me wrong. there are times when our silly little arguments have evolved and turned into something much bigger causing a physical fight ending in blood and injuries. but its always been between just the two of us, we`ve never involved our dads or anything because we seem to just handle it on our own.
"i hope everyone here studied for their exams, you had all week and i will be disappointed in you if you fail" our teacher was walking around and placing the exam papers on each one of our desks. suddenly, at the sound of the door being slammed open, everyone turned their heads just to see sunghoon standing by the door looking pissed. "mr. park! it is one thing to come late to my class to take your exam, but its another thing to slam my door open and interrupt me" watching our teacher yell at sunghoon really made my day, especially the embarassed look on his face which made me smile to myself.
"im sorry, miss. i had to come in through the back door since-" before he could rat me out, he got cut off by our teacher who decided to yell at him once again. "i don`t want to hear it mr. park. take your seat and be quiet" sunghoon glared at me silently before he made his way to his desk which just happened to be right next to mine. i was expecting him to start throwing childish insults at me, but to my surprise he looked down at the piece of paper in front of him in complete silence. odd, but i couldnt be bothered to start anything during our exams.
"you guys have 1 hour to finish your exams starting from now" the room went completely quiet once everyone turned their heads down and started writing down on the piece of paper. i was focused on my exam until i felt something press down on my foot. confused, i look underneath my desk to see that its someone whos pressing down on my foot with their own. of course when i look up to see who it is, its sunghoon. hes not looking at me as his eyes are stuck to the paper in front of him, instead he uses his pen to point at a tiny note right next to his paper. i can see that theres something written on it, but since i couldnt make it out i decided to lean over his table a bit. squinting my eyes, i read the words "shouldn`t have locked me out pretty thing" pretty thing? really? is he referring to me as a thing? what an ass..
"miss. ___ is looking at my papers" wait, what?! i look up at sunghoon whos smirking at me, ew.. before turning to our teacher who looks like shes actually about to kill me.
"miss, i wasn’t-"
"i dont want to hear it! detention now, miss y/l/n"
fucking unbelievable. if im gonna miss my exam and end up in detention, you sure as hell know sunghoon will too. i tried not to lose my shit, grabbing my backpack before "accidentally" tripping over sunghoons desk which kinda revealed a bit of my behind to everyone in class. "miss! sunghoon just tripped me on purpose.." i said, acting all shy and embarrassed about how my skirt flipped over. "shes fucking lying!" sunghoon stood up from his desk and i could tell he was gonna lash out on me.
"am not! you tripped me over that desk on purpose you fucking pervert-"
"watch your mouth you lying piece of shit!"
while me and sunghoon were lashing out on each other, we didn`t notice how our teacher was red in the face like she was about to explode out of anger. "that`s enough! you guys are grown enough to know not to be using that sort of language, nor to be arguing like little kids! you should know to act better. detention for the both of you right now!" she yelled in our faces while everyone else were sat staring at us awkwardly.
both me and sunghoon were now sat in detention. we also just happened to be the only ones here, along with a teacher tho.. sunghoon was sat on the other side of the classroom as he wished to not be near me at all, which i’m glad for. i was scrolling through my phone when the teacher suddenly got up from the chair he was sat on. “alright. i’ve got a wife and kids to get home to, so you two better behave on your own until school is finished” and then he left just like that, leaving me and sunghoon all alone. "cant believe i`m missing my exam because of you.." i spat, breaking the silence. "maybe if you hadn`t locked me out i wouldn`t have done what i did. besides, the stunt you pulled really just proves my point. you really are a slut-" and this is usually how our fights start.
gripping the book in my hands that was on my desk, i quickly threw it in sunghoons direction and his instincts kicked in instantly. he dodged the book which flew right past his head, hitting the wall with a harsh thud that left a noticeable mark. "nice try princess" he pushed his desk to the side and began walking towards me as he was visibly angry. i ducked as fast as i could when he swung his fist at me. i felt a rush of air across my face that his fist had missed. "a man hitting a woman? that`s not very man-like of you" i twisted my body as i attempted to throw a kick at his knee, but sunghoon was quick to jump back which resulted in my foot connecting with the wall instead. "fuck!"
"dont hurt yourself now" sunghoon smirked before his next punch successfully caught me across my cheek, causing a sharp pain which made me stumble backwards. suck it up.. i launched myself forward and managed to tackle him down. with sunghoon on the ground, i was now straddling him with my fists positioned in the air right above his face. we were both breathing heavily as sunghoon struggled to get away from underneath me. "are you getting weaker, park sunghoon?" i asked, lowering my fists before getting back up on my feet. "youre saying that as if you didnt take the most damage" he panted, sitting himself up against the wall. "yet i`m not the one whos out of breath" i grabbed my backpack and made my way out of the classroom as i couldn`t be bothered to deal with his bullshit anymore, and i could feel his eyes on me as i walked out.
"dad! im home" i walked into the kitchen with no sight of my dad. i jumped when i saw my dads personal driver sat at the kitchen table. "min? you scared me. wheres dad?" i sat down next to him, placing my backpack on the floor. "your dad is currently in a meeting, hell be back soon. how did your exam go?" i watched him eat his food as i had no idea what to say to that. "couldnt have gone better.." i lied. he hummed, "if youre wondering, then no, i didn`t tell your dad i saw you and mr. park having a conversation on your way inside" i furrowed my eyebrows at him. why did he think he had to keep something like that away from my dad? we weren`t exactly saying positive things to each other, unless he thinks..
"ew, no! its most definitely not like that. we do talk sometimes, but its just shit talking about each other to each others faces" i said, not missing the way he threw me a look that screamed "i don`t believe you". i rolled my eyes playfully,
"i do not like sunghoon whatsoever-"
"i`d hope so"
i heard a voice say. turning around, i saw my dad walking into the kitchen with a lot of papers in his hands. "min, these are for you" he handed him a few of the papers which min accepted and thanked him for before he got up from his chair. i watched my dad sit down on the chair min was just sat on, "what did i hear you talking about just now?" he questioned, placing the rest of the papers on the table in front of him as he started going through them one by one.
"my exam" i said, which wasn`t completeley a lie. he turned to look at me, raising his eyebrows before looking back at his papers. "i was meaning to talk to you about sunghoon" what? why sunghoon out of all people? "you were..?" i asked, feeling myself getting a little nervous. "you know, sunghoon is no different from his father. he`s just as bad as him" i hummed as i was trying not to show how desperate i was for him to get to the point. "i was originally planning on doing this myself, but i figured that it would be a better for you to do it, since you "do not like sunghoon whatsoever""
"well, ur right about that. what is it that you want me to do dad?" he paused before he took a deep breath. he turned to me slightly and placed his hand on my shoulder, "sweetheart". he finally said as curiosity started taking over me. he hesitated for a second and it kinda freaked me out. was this gonna be some sort of arranged marrige? did he know about our fight today? or maybe- "i want you to kill sunghoon" what?! kill sunghoon..? i’d lie if i say i didn`t hate him, but ive never gone as far as to actually wanting to murder him.. i never have, never will, never wanted to and never planned on taking someone’s life, even if it`s someone who i despise.
“i know i’m asking for a lot-“
“asking for a lot? dad, you’re asking me to take someone’s life..”
“sweetheart, i know. but unfortunately this isn’t a choice” i watched him in horror as no words were able to leave my mouth. “you will do what i’m asking you to do. you wouldn’t want to disappoint your father, right?” he stood up from his chair, looking down on me demanding that i give him an answer. “y-yes dad..” i managed to get out, not bothering to look at him. “very well then” his footsteps were heavy as he walked out of the kitchen, leaving me alone with my thoughts. i can’t kill sunghoon.. but i have to? no. i don’t have to, i think? it’s what my dad wants me to do, does that mean i should? murder is wrong, but sunghoon is a bad person. does sunghoon deserve to die? shit..
“you want me to kill ___?” sunghoon’s dad had delivered the exact same news to his son. “that’s right. she’s no different from her father” sunghoon knew that what his father was asking him for was wrong. he couldn’t bring himself to kill ___, even tho he hated her he knew that it wasn’t the right thing to do.
“dad.. i don’t know if i can-“
“don’t start with me son. when i tell you to do something, you do it. don’t act like it’ll be hard, she’s a woman after all”
a woman who could easily beat my ass.. sunghoon thought to himself. “yes father” he said. “very well then” he watched his father walk out of the room, what was he gonna do now? should he kill her just because his father told him to do so? the guilt would be with him for the rest of his life if he did. but he wouldn’t want his dad to be disappointed in him, right?
“we’re here, miss y/l/n” min said, parked in front of my school. “thank you..” i made my way out of the car and prayed to god that i wouldn’t bump into sunghoon. a whole day had gone by and i still needed to process everything. i looked around as i made my way to the entryway with no sign of sunghoon, and i was relieved when i finally reached the door. but before i could open it myself, someone had opened it from the inside. looking up, my heart dropped at the sight of sunghoon stood in front of me. i swallowed nervously as we were both stood staring at each other in complete silence.
i tried to move past him, and so did he which caused our bodies to push up against each other. “sorry..” sorry? why the fuck did i apologize? “it’s alright..” he mumbled, moving to the side so i could walk past him. not wanting to make things even more awkward, i quickly walked past him and hurried my way over to class. wait, but.. why was sunghoon acting weird as well? maybe something happened and he was dealing with a personal matter.. don’t know, don’t care. he’ll be dead soon anyway.
i’m getting ready to start working out in what my dad calls "the den" its basically this underground gym/boxing place where my dad trains along with his men, but i usually show up after they’ve all left since i like being on my own. i had put on some black shorts and a white top that hung off my shoulder on one side. i reached for a hair tie and gathered all of my hair, putting it up in a high ponytail while some strands in the front were left loose. i then carefully started wrapping my hands in hand wraps and flexing my fingers afterwards. turning to the punching bag, i was getting ready to start my usual everyday practising, but that was until i heard footsteps coming from behind me. it was weird since i thought everyone had left, but when i turned around i was at a loss of words.
"how’d you get in here..?" my voice shook, watching sunghoons tall figure leaning against the door to the entryway. "wasn’t that hard. my men took out yours in the front pretty easily" he smirked at me, fidgeting with the gun in his hands. "you can’t bring a gun to a fist fight. thats why my men lost" one by one, i watched his men gather around him; all carrying guns. "this can go two ways" he said as he started walking towards me slowly "either it’ll just be the two of us and i’ll make it quick and painless, or ill have to bring my men on it and i guarantee that it’s gonna hurt" he was stood right in front of me while looking down on me with his head tilted slightly.
was sunghoon planning on killing me too? was he doing this because he somehow found out that i was planning on killing him first? there wasn’t enough time for me to think. right now i had to focus on just one thing, and that was to live. "did your men forget to take out the ones in the back too?" i watched the smirk on his lips disappear as my men started to gather around me as they had come in through the back. all though, they weren`t armed with guns like sunghoons men were which made me really nervous. sunghoon chuckled and began walking backwards until he was stood behind his men. i pulled the same move, which meant that our men were now gonna fight against each other to protect me and sunghoon.
"seems like you can’t face us without your guns" one of my men said who was stood in the very front. sunghoons men laughed, "let’s be fair about it then, shall we?" the sound of guns being thrown on the floor made me feel relieved. suddenly, the den exploded into chaos as our men went at each other with fists flying and bodies colliding. the men’s shouting and grunting filled the entire room while me and sunghoon were stood on each sides of the room watching them.
one of my men collapsed on the ground, but before he could get back up two men tripped over him which added to the pile of bodies that were already sprawled out across the floor. the den was a mess of sweaty, bloody, injured men that had mostly been beaten to death by each other. it went by faster than i expected, and worse than i expected. all that remained were either dead bodies or knocked out bodies with no one left standing except for me and sunghoon.
"what’s the matter princess? is this too much for you?" the sound of sunghoon’s voice brought me back to reality. i was distracted by the violent scene that was right in front of me. i took a deep breath, "nothing is too much for me" i said with my eyes looking straight at him from across the room. sunghoon looked at the gun in his hands before he threw it on the ground. "like my men said, lets be fair about it" he said, placing his hands in his pockets. "you can use the gun you know? i dont mind, since this will be your last fight after all.." the tension between us was heated. sunghoon only laughed at me, "give it all you’ve got baby" with each slow step, he was now walking towards me. "don’t call me that" i spat.
he paused dangerously close to me, our bodies almost making contact. "come on baby, don’t say that" he brought his hand up to my face, but i was quick to slap his hand away with mine. with no warning, sunghoon`s fist landed with a severse thud against my ribs and i felt the force knock my breath out of me. i whimpered when i was sent stumbling into a nearby table, gripping the edge of the table for balance. i wasted no time and launched myself back at him with a kick that grazed his shoulder. he let out a groan, quickly grabbing my leg and twisting it viciously.
i let out a cry as i fell to the floor. when sunghoon tried to get on top of me, i managed to wrench my leg free by kicking at his chest with my other foot. as he stumbled backwards, i got back up on my feet as fast as i could. we were both breathing heavily and our bodies were hot with sweat. "shit princess. you’re getting better at this" he panted, lifting his fists into the air. "thank you. it means a lot coming from you, oppa" i rushed forward, this time going low so i could tackle him. the second we both crashed onto the cold floor we started wrestled fiercly. our bodies were rolling on the floor as we tried to overpower each other.
suddenly, his hands found my neck. i felt his fingers squeezing as he pressed down. my eyes widened in panic and my hands quickly went flying to his wrists; clawing at them, desperate for air. i dug my nails into his skin until it started drawing blood. he hissed in pain and ended up loosening his grip just enough for me to shove him off. i started coughing and gasping for air before kicking him hard in his chest which caused him to also gasp for air when he felt himself not being able to breathe properly.
i charged at him once again, this time aiming my elbow at his face. he barley was able to block it with his forearm before i grabbed a fistful of his hair, yanking his head backwards. "fuck!" he groaned, retaliating by grabbing my own hair and pulling it so hard that tears started forming in my eyes. "a-ah!" i let out a shriek. we were both struggling while using the grip on each others hair to cause each other pain. with a sudden move, sunghoon yanked my head to the side and slammed my head into the wall causing my grip on his hair to loosen. my chest was rising and falling, my body sprawled out on the floor with my hair being a tangled mess. my head was pounding horribly and i couldnt bare the pain i was feeling in my body.
sunghoon took the chance and got on top of me. he leaned down with his face so close to mine that the tip of our noses were touching. i felt his heavy breath against my lips before slightly flinching at the feeling of metal against my temple. his eyes looked into mine, a smirk forming on his lips. "this is the end for you baby" he mumbled before he cocked the gun. sunghoon raised his eyebrows when i sniffled. our eyes were locked in an intense gaze. he clenched his jaw slightly, the gun in his hand shaking when he tried pressing it further into my temple. i stood still, watching every move that he was making.
"kiss me goodbye?" i said, almost sounding like a whisper. he froze like he couldnt believe what had just come out of my mouth. his grip on the gun loosened, just for a second as if he was questioning whether to kill me or not. he stared at me with his eyebrows furrowing in disbelief, unsure if i was joking or not. with the way i was looking into his eyes he could tell i was being serious when a tear rolled down my cheek. i leaned forward, my bloodied lips parting before they touched his. the kiss was soft as our lips moved together. i felt him deepening the kiss, parting his mouth as well. and with his lips still on mine, he pulled the trigger.
♡︎♡︎♡︎
i feel horrible i’m so sorry.. should i make it into a series orrr??
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fairysongs · 6 months ago
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౨ৎ pretty scary﹕spencer reid .ᐟ
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summary: you're having an awful day and your boyfriend is kind of the best person ever.
pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader
includes: reader struggles with bpd, reader has slight mommy issues, reader is referred to with she/her pronouns, depictions of overstimulation (NOT the sexy kind), reader has slight mood swings, established relationship, silly fluff, spencer reid is the perfect boyfriend, hurt/comfort KINDA? (reader is upset, spencer soothes her), lowercase writing sorry it's a habit/my preference, Fiona Apple Mention <3
word count: 3.1k
a/n: omg.. hiiii! this is my first silly post on this silly blog and its a very self-indulgent one as someone who has bpd and is told OFTEN how irritable i can get -_- .. im so nervous.com right now bcos ive never posted my writing on here but also excited..? yes yes.. on a huge spencer reid kick so if u liked this and have any requests they are open!! likes/reblogs/any feedback much appreciated :3!
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today was just not your day.
the morning started out fine. it was actually kind of perfect. you spent the night at your boyfriend’s place, waking up just in time to see him getting ready for work. there was a smile that crept over your lips as you watched him adjust the tie hanging around his neck. you propped yourself up against the pillows as he caught your eyes in the mirror adjacent to the bed. your heart swelled at the sight of a small blush spreading across his cheeks.
“why are you staring at me like that, weirdo?” there was a little morning gravel in his voice but his tone was lighthearted enough to make you giggle. you fell back against the pillows, tucking one under your arm as you kept your gaze on him.
“what? i’m not allowed to stare at my boyfriend anymore?” you replied, a yawn falling off your lips. he playfully rolled his eyes in response, walking over to your side of his bed. he sat at the edge, one of his hands brushing some of your hair from your face.
“actually, no. they just passed that law last night while you were sleeping through coraline again.” you bit your lip, vaguely remembering begging spencer to put that movie on only to fall asleep on his shoulder twenty minutes in. you can only assume at some point he carried you from the sofa to his bed. you blushed at the thought, as if he hadn’t done it at least twenty times by now. clearly you weren’t used to the ‘princess treatment’ he liked giving you.
“oh, my fault then. please don’t arrest me, mr. fbi agent.”
“it’s dr. fbi agent, actually.”
“right…” you giggled again, beaming as he smiled down at you. “do you know if you have a case?”
“paperwork day.” his fingers started tracing small shapes against the skin of your arm. “of course if that changes, i’ll let you know. but hopefully it won’t. you can come over again tonight if you want. maybe we’ll finally finish coraline.” his voice was soft, ringing harmonies in your ear as you let your eyes flutter shut in the comfort. “need me to take you to work today?”
you hummed, reaching out to your phone sitting on his bedside table. you quickly rechecked your schedule and shook your head. “no, it’s okay. i go in a little later. it’s close enough to walk.” you tilted your head as you felt him tangle his hand in your hair again. spencer scratched delicately at your scalp.
“okay, my love. i washed the clothes you left here the other day. they should be in the second drawer of my dresser.” you nodded in response as he leaned in to press his lips to your forehead. you caught his jaw in your hands and pulled him downwards, giving him a proper kiss on his lips. he laughed quietly as you both pulled away. “have a good day, angel.”
“you too, baby.”
well to put it simply you did not have a good day. you got ready for your job at a local cafe and made it to work fine. it was when you got there that it started going downhill. you genuinely loved being a barista. you definitely had the personality for it. friendly, outgoing, kind and patient. it’s actually how you met spencer in the first place. but sometimes it was hard. especially with certain needy customers. most of your regulars were chill. you were actually friends with many of them, always asking about the new things in their lives whenever they’d come in. of course, though, there were always a few bad apples.
like this one particular older man. he came in every now and then and ordered the same thing every single time. black decaf coffee with a blueberry scone. he was always in a rather grumpy mood, not even your tender words could help that. so this morning when you gave him a black regular coffee by an honest mistake he made sure to let you know just how stupid and idiotic you were. you stood there at the counter, expression apologetic as he continued to berate you. eventually your boss told you to go in the back for a bit while she took care of things.
you practically ran to the bathroom, locking yourself in the tiny space as you tried to control your breathing. you could already feel the hot tears spilling down your cheeks. you absolutely despised how sensitive you could get. through shaky breaths, you pulled your phone from your back pocket, unlocking it with a small sob. you had a few texts and one missed call from your mother. one of the texts was from spencer, letting you know it was just gonna be a paperwork day and inquiring what you wanted to order for dinner tonight. the other texts were from your mother, reminding you about a family party that was coming up soon. there was another text after her missed call.
- Guess you’re too busy to talk. Just let me know if you can make it.
you closed your eyes, feeling the passive aggressive tone through the message. the best way you could describe your relationship with your mother was that she was both your best friend and your worst critic. she tried to support everything you aspired to do, but also hated the way you did them. it was... complicated but her text was enough to leave you in a sour mood for the remainder of the day.
you felt like you couldn’t catch up. you couldn’t get over that bump setting you back from having a good shift. your head felt like it was elsewhere and no longer attached to your body, your movements becoming monotonous and your words dull. to make things worse, your eighteen year old coworker was coming in for their shift an hour before you were leaving.
and you loved them, you really really did. often times you would joke about them being your work child, taking them under your wing. but they talked. a lot. most days you could keep up no problem but with the way your mind was on a downward spiral today, all you could feel was immense overstimulation as they yapped in your ear about the latest tv show they were binge watching. soon it was all too much for you to handle and you end up snapping at the poor kid.
“dude i’m sorry but i don’t really care. can we just be quiet for, like, five minutes?” you interrupted them mid-sentence, tired eyes looking over with a slight glare. you immediately softened, eyes wide with guilt as they looked towards you like a kicked puppy. you tried your best to stammer out an apology but was met with silent treatment until you clocked out.
they would soon accept your apology in the next coming days and you’d go back to normal because that’s how you guys were, but the guilt would eat at you for quite a bit. when you were a kid, your parents often praised you on how self-sufficient and respectful you were. in your adolescent years, with the help of an untreated personality disorder and your regular teen hormones raging inside your cage of a body, your behaviour would suddenly change. you found yourself more irritable. more prone to overstimulation. you internalized a lot of what you were going through because every time you tried to bring up your feelings, your mother would shut you down and it’d turn into a fight.
you expressed yourself through slammed doors and screaming matches. you bottled things up until they overflowed. it was how you handled the thunderstorms behind your skull. you would eventually get better in time, finally attending therapy and finding solace in little things like journaling. and when you started dating spencer, he helped a lot too. your brain could sometimes make a lot of irrational judgements and spencer would help you see reasoning instead. he was also insanely patient with you. especially in the first two months of you guys dating where you broke up with him upwards of five times. each time because you didn’t believe you deserved him. (you still don’t believe it, but at least now you’ve stopped trying to fight the good coming into your life.)
you would never forget the first time spencer met your parents. the night was going well up until dinner time when your dad decided to pull out your old high school yearbook. at first it was just classic embarrassment as spencer looked at your school photos. but then your mother, after one too many glasses of wine, brought up your old struggles with anger.
“be careful getting on her bad side, spencer!” she had said, waving a finger in the air. “she’s got a scary temper for sure! remember when we had to replace her bathroom mirror because she threw her hairbrush at it?" she spoke like she was a comedian telling her greatest joke in the world as she turned towards your father. "i can’t even remember what made her so upset! but i remember how expensive that fix was…”
“oh i’m sure i’ve dealt with far worse at my job, ma’am. i think i can handle her just fine.” he was quick to reply and the hand pressing on your bouncing knee beneath the table calmed any nerves of him looking at you differently. later that night he’d hold you as you sobbed in his arms, retelling different memories of your past. he made you a promise that he’d never see you as a bad person as long as you promised him you’d talk to him whenever you started to feel like one.
you were finally walking home after this exhausting day and it wasn’t until you were changed into your comfy clothes and curled in bed that you realized you hadn't texted spencer back at all. with your knees pulled to your chest and a low hum of a fiona apple album playing from your record player you reached across your bed for your phone. you had four texts from him and one missed call.
- Hi angel. Haven’t heard from you all day, just checking in. - Hi, you should be clocked out by now. Just wanted to know if you still wanted to come over? We can order from your favorite italian place. - One missed call from spencer ♡. - Are you having a bad day, my love? Or did I do something wrong? - I’m gonna come over. See you soon, angel.
your brows furrowed together at the last text, sent just about ten minutes ago. you could feel your eyes well with frustrated tears. you felt like shit for unintentionally ignoring him. you couldn’t even think of what to say to him, but you had to think fast because soon you heard a gentle knock at your bedroom door. with a sniffle, you stood to your feet and slowly opened it.
you met spencer’s eyes, they were desperately searching your face. trying to figure you out, trying to see what was troubling your mind. you hated it sometimes when he profiled you, but most times you were grateful he could just know when you weren’t doing okay. saved you the shame of having to actually vocalize your feelings. you stepped back as he entered your room.
“your roommate let me in. she said you went straight to your room after work and have been listening to nothing but when the pawn… by fiona apple.” he was still in his work clothes, the same ones you watched him get dressed in just that morning. felt like an eternity ago at this point. before you could even let your face fall to the ground, his hands were holding your jaw, tilting it upwards and keeping it in place. he always held you like you were made of glass. “bad day?”
“you could say that.” you words were short and you didn’t mean for them to be. you were just so exhausted. “sorry i forgot to text you back. it’s just been…” you let your words fall off, waving your hands in the air with an annoyed huff. you pulled away from his touch, slumping back into your mattress. he just watched as you ran your fingers through your hair, eyes shut tight as if you were trying to talk yourself down. he bit his lip, taking a cautious step forward.
“you look like you’re trying to compute a million things at once right now inside that little head.” he shrugged off the sweater draping over his work shirt, tugged off his tie and kicked his shoes off besides your bed. you laughed sarcastically at his words but bit your tongue from replying with a snarky comment. “did you know that one of the brain’s primary functions is to collect and process sensory information? it’s kind of like there’s a little guy in there, sitting at his desk and filing through every bit of information that gets thrown at you throughout the day.” your eyes were still shut but you felt a dip in your bed as his voice grew closer to you.
“when there’s too much sensory input, it can make the brain think there’s danger, sending off signals to the body to escape. that’s when your fight-flight-freeze response gets triggered. aka that little guy’s desk is suddenly on fire and every file has been thrown all over the place and the little guy, well, the little guy is running around screaming for help.” you feel two arms wrap around your waist and maneuver your body until you felt your head resting against the warmness of his chest. soon enough you also felt slender digits running through the locks of your hair.
“you seem to resort to a fight response i’ve noticed. your body feels like you can overpower the danger your brain thinks you’re in. resulting in intense feelings of anger. which can lead to irritability.” you feel him tracing shapes, the same ones he made on your arms earlier that morning, deep into the small of your back. he always did the same movement pattern and you always wondered if that was intentional or just a coincidence. “do you wanna talk about what’s going on in here?” he poked an index finger to the side of your temple. you shook your head. “okay. we don’t have to. but i will ask about it later, is that okay?” you nodded this time.
you didn’t realize it when it was happening, but the combination of spencer pulling you into his arms and his soft voice spewing factual information at you was enough to make your head feel almost empty. your body was melted against his, curled up in his touch. you let out a shaky breath, slowly raising your head, resting your chin on his chest as your eyes opened. “how did you do that?” you whispered, soft hues scanning his face as he just smiled down at you.
“a magician never reveals his secrets, my love.” you rolled your eyes, laughing quietly as his hand lightly brushed your cheek. he tucked a piece of hair behind your ear. your lips twitched in thought, a tiny frown suddenly taking over your features. spencer tilted his head. “what is it, baby?”
your eyes fell to focus on his chest, your finger tracing over the fabric of his work shirt. “do you think i’m scary? like… when i get upset?”
“scary?” he repeated, voice in small disbelief that you’d even feel the need to ask. “no, i don’t think you’re scary. i think you’re beautiful. and i think your mind can be pretty mean to you sometimes. but that’s not your fault. hey, look at me please.” you let him guide your head back up, eyes meeting each other again. he smiled at you and it made you feel warm. “why do you think you’re scary?”
your shoulder shrugged with an exasperated sigh. “because it’s what i’ve been told my whole life. when i get too overwhelmed and i just feel nothing but anger i… i feel like i can get mean and i hate feeling that way. like, i always get too snappy and i always say something that’s gonna hurt someone i care about and i…” your breathing hitches. your lashes quickly blink, trying to fight any tears from spilling yet again. “i’m so scared i’m gonna get that way with you and you’re gonna leave me.”
he was shaking his head, thumb swiping underneath your eyes at the few tears that betrayed you and fell down your cheeks. he sighed out your name. “i don’t think you understand just how much i love you. if you think i’d leave you at something so silly like that. you know, i started reading up on borderline personality disorder after that night i met your parents. i wanted to understand it more. i wanted to understand you.” he continued wiping away your tears as they kept falling.
“i can’t even imagine what you go through inside your own head every single day, but i can acknowledge how hard you’re trying to cope with it. i see it all the time. i see it in the kindness you like to spread to strangers. i see it in the way you push yourself to learn new things and the way you stopped beating yourself up if it doesn’t turn out perfect. i see it in the way you love me, and more importantly in the way you’ve allowed yourself to let me love you back. you’re such a beautiful person, my love. it’s okay to have bad days and it’s okay to let yourself be a little mean sometimes.” he laughed quietly, noticing the way your lips were fighting a smile. he leaned in and pressed a sweet kiss to the corner of your mouth. “as long as you just communicate with me when you’re feeling bad. that’s all i ask.”
you sat there for a moment, admiring the way his big brown eyes stared at you. your eyes fell for a moment before picking back up with furrowed brows. “i snapped at my coworker today.”
“the teenager?” you nodded. “ah,” spencer’s hand resumed circling around your back as he hummed. “they’ll forgive you, i’m sure of it.” there was a pause and then a small hum coming from his throat. “are you hungry? hm? let’s order some food.”
he ordered you your favorite pasta dish from your favorite italian restaurant and you fell asleep in his arms in the middle of coraline again. he couldn’t help but admire you resting so peacefully in his arms and continued tracing the words ‘i love you’ over and over again into your back for the rest of the night.
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manicpixiefelix · 1 year ago
Text
head, heart, hand. {Felix Catton/Reader/Oliver Quick}
Part 3.
Summary: Your second year at Oxford brings with it Farleigh, much to your delight, and you get to learn about Farleigh's personal nemesis (which he rolls his eyes at every time you call him that) Oliver. It turns out Oliver's actually very lovely, and does Felix quite the favour one unassuming morning. Farleigh's not happy to see him again, but Felix is.
{ masterpost }
Need to Know: They/Them. Explicitly NB Reader. FWB!Reader/Felix. Reader is from a well off family but has pretty much been adopted by the Cattons.
Warnings: heavy drinking by everyone at the pub including the reader, and 'dog' being used to demean the reader once.
A/N: 5101 words. much longer than the last ones, and we finally have oliver!! very excited to FINALLY be able to write their weird little fuckin dynamic at oxford, i love them all very much. im a bit unhappy with the pacing of the beginning but i like how it picks up once oli is introduced, but also the bar scene is SO LONG and i will not apologise i love them your honour. id be mighty grateful for any feedback or if you have any thoughts in general about the story, i stare at so many kind asks in my inbox lovingly, i will answer them very soon i promise!! also this is so unedited, sorry lol.
Taglist: @strangemaximoff @renaissance-mama @tsach @malscorner @xhoneymoonx134 @yelchinweasleylothbrok @tarriea @florencediet @butitsbetterifyoudoittoem @belladonnadarksshade @fandom-multiamory @snazzynacho @jubileexoxo @soocore @be-lla-vie @nightingale2124 @willow-sages @null4ndv0id @gracieluvthemoon @day2dream @marvellover98 @navixfr @bitxhinthecomments @daintylovers @alesunsets @noturningbacknow @d0llysposts @alilcloudy @callsignwidow @moviequotes23 @325575 @bonnieblue0606 @osoqueen125 @hot-dino-nuggies @darkness-falls-xo @mattymurderdocks @flowerecs @weepingwitchofthewest @ilovemydinoboi @marsmallow433 @king0flies @cashtons-wife
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At first you don't notice him for who he is. At first you hear about Farleigh's insufferable tutoring partner. At first, Oliver Quick means absolutely nothing to you.
The most important part of your second year of college is that Farleigh has finally conceded to joining you and Felix at Oxford. Once, during the last Summer break, while Felix had been off confronting his at-the-time good friend Eddie, after Farleigh had told him Eddie and Venetia had been sleeping together, you and Farleigh had gotten high in the maze to avoid the fallout.
Since the Cattons were paying for his education, he'd admitted that he wanted to remove himself as much as possible from his mother's legacy and memory and the guilt Sir James held about his sister. It would be hard to do at a college where he would be a legacy student because of his mother's attendance. You think you partly understood; certain people, usually staff, liked to kiss your ass when they found out about your own legacy status and the people your parents became, you're not so sure they'd treat Farleigh the same, all things considered.
But he's out of options.
Sometimes you're not sure what to make of Farleigh; his strange place in the Catton family was never something they seemed to like to discuss around you, but Farleigh was far more candid about it. So when he pulls these stunts, gets himself kicked out of schools, puts himself in precarious positions despite how you knew he genuinely enjoyed academics, especially literature, you can't help but wonder why.
"Don't try and pathologize it," you could hear him rolling his eyes as he attempted to scale the minotaur statue in the middle of the maze. Looking up at him from where you're laying in the grass, you watch him rise above the walls into the sunshine. Maybe it's dangerous, maybe he should stop, get down, be safe, but he looks far more content up there, on the edge. Maybe he feels freer up there, even if he knows it's not true.
So now he's with you and Felix at Oxford, a first year only academically, he slots perfectly into the group of friends you'd both already managed to collect.
The point is, you have no idea that of everything that happens in those first few weeks of your second year, the parties, the hook ups, the social dances you found yourself doing, that the guy Farleigh likes to complain about from his tutoring sessions - Oliver, Farleigh always says it with an eye roll - would mean so much more to you than you'd ever expect.
Everything about the man you would come to find extraordinary, from the outside, was completely, and charmingly, ordinary. Including how you'd met him.
Felix had overslept again, and threw a pillow at the door when you'd stuck your head into his room to remind him that he had classes. You'd left yourself enough time to walk, but Felix would have to at least run if he didn't get his ass up soon, or would ride his bike instead. Its on your way, so you duck your head in to at least check it there.
What you don't expect is the unassuming man with dark hair to have a gentle, almost caressing hand on the tire of Felix's bike. When you make a confused noise, he about jumps a foot in the air.
"Sorry," he seems to shrink in from himself, recoiling from the bike like he'd been caught red handed, "just admiring." He babbles, but can't meet your eyes. For a moment, you look over him, before turning your attention to the ludicrously expensive mountain bike that Felix has always taken for granted.
"It is a nice bike," you find yourself grinning, stepping towards the bike and giving the tire a squeeze, both as a show of your own appreciation, and to test the pressure, just in case, "didn't mean to spook you..." And you trail off, prompting for his name, holding your hand out.
It hangs in the air for a moment, and the man before you gives you a proper look over. The way he holds himself, as if trying to take up as little space as physically possible, but his eyes, his gaze, oh it longed to swallow whole every detail of everything he cast it upon.
"Oliver," he says after a very long moment. Despite his demure voice, there's something deliberate, unwavering about it, "Quick," he follows it up with, "I'm Oliver Quick." And he ducks his gaze, sparing you from his intensity as you shake his hand.
"Oliver Quick," you turn the name over on your tongue; the same Oliver that Farleigh's been complaining about, you ponder, before giving him a smile, "I'm Y/N." As soon as the handshake drops, Oliver's doing that thing again, shrinking back and looking uncomfortable in the space.
"Yeah, I think I've seen you around," Oliver nods but can't meet your gaze, "around campus, I mean -" Which reminds you -
"Fuck, I'm almost running late," you hissed, spinning on your heel, "sorry to run Ollie, you seem lovely!" You call over your shoulder as you bolt to class, hearing him calling out;
"No trouble," and awkwardly trailing off the further away you get, "you seem... very nice too..."
Bursting through the door to your tutorial with five minutes to spare, your lecture looks up from his desk for a brief moment. Giving him a nod, you try and slip past him to grab a seat by one of your friends, chatting near the back, when he raises his voice.
"No Mister Catton today either, I presume," he says with a sigh, and you again check you watch before plastering on an apologetic smile.
"He'll be here," you assured, "promise." The professor did not seem impressed.
Sitting next to India, she immediately greets you with a hug.
"Felix hung over?" She grins, and you anyway in respond with a smirk.
"After last night? I'd assume so."
"King's Arms tonight?"
"Of course."
When he does eventually show up, it's ten minutes late with an apology about how his bike had gotten a flat tire. The professor, just tells him to take a seat, and Felix does with many placating thanks, sliding into one of the open few open seats in the row in front of yours. Ruffling his hair, he throws a faintly guilty grin over his shoulder at you and India, telling you both not to start.
After the tutorial, you fully intend of having lunch with India, as the two of you don't have any other classes until the afternoon, the two of you walk with Felix to where he'd stashed his bike before his next lecture. Except -
"That's not yours," you look at the bicycle curiously, "I thought you had a flat."
"Had," Felix agrees, wheeling the unfamiliar bike from the rack with a grin, "bloody angel of a man lent me his."
"Of course someone just gave you their bike," India chuckles, reaching out to give Felix's shoulder a squeeze before he mounts the bike with intent to take off.
"Lent," Felix grinned back, "I'm gonna give it back."
"And what about yours?" You asked, eyebrows raised.
"He took it back for me."
"Your hero," you laughed, shaking your head at him.
"My absolute hero," Felix agreed, "I'll tell you about it later, okay? King's Arms tonight?"
And once he's away, and you and India are on your way to the campus cafe, her arm tucked in hers, she gives you a knowing, almost exasperated smile.
"You're already trying to figure out how to fix his tire, aren't you?" Her nails dig a little too much and her smile's a little too sly and her tone almost grates against a thought you don't like to consider, so you push it to the back of your mind and give an embarrassed little smile.
"Was it that obvious?"
"No, but you are," she leans in, lips almost against your ear, smile in her voice, "endearingly predictable," she murmurs against the shell of your ear, "you're always wrapped up in him."
"Right now I seem to be rather wrapped up in you," you rest your free hand on hers, tucked into the crook of her elbow, taking her hint and lowering your voice to something flirty.
"And make darling Felix wait?" She teased in response. Instead of answering her properly, you ask her back to your dorm under the guise of lunch and she happily accepts.
The bike shop is closed and Felix has class and you can't even be sure if this supposed bike saviour has even returned Felix's bike by now; there's no waiting, but India likes feeling prioritised, so you keep all that to your self. India likes to feel important in Felix's life. Anyone who Felix spends even a little of his time and attention on ends up rather addicted to that feeling, to feeling special to Felix Catton, and India is one of the many who have picked up on your own importance to the man himself.
So you're not dating India. You're also not not dating India; you're a placeholder of sorts, which would be cruel to you if you didn't like her well enough or if you weren't satisfied taking your fun with her. It would also probably be cruel to India if she knew the truth, that Felix thought she was hot and wasn't ready to commit to maybe dating her, but that he was getting that way he sometimes got about people, that he wanted them around, wanting to not share them, but without devoting himself to them. That's where you come in. A placeholder. A proxy. An almost. Someone who makes this pretty girl feel important and close to Felix. Someone Felix isn't worried about falling in love with India even while keeping her happy and around.
When you arrive late to the King's Arms with your own around India's shoulders, Felix lights up while Farleigh, from beside him, narrows his eyes with a smirk.
"Cute shade of lipstick," he says slyly, even as he moves over at Felix's insistence to fit both yourself and India in the booth beside him. Farleigh flicks the collar of the shirt you'd thrown on in a rush to get dressed for afternoon classes, "on both of you."
"Are you jealous, Farleigh?" India grins, taking it all in stride as you pull your collar out with your thumb to try and inspect it. India's lipstick was smeared faintly against the collar from where she'd been enthusiastically kissing her way down your jaw a few hours earlier.
"Of course," Farleigh's sly smile widens to a cocky grin, and he winks at her, while she leans over you to plant a kiss on the corner of his mouth with a wicked grin.
"Right in front of her partner?" Annabel, Felix's latest fling was on his other side, reaching over Felix to shove Farleigh's shoulder with a scandalised laugh.
"Not really together," India mused, even as she shifted to lean heavily against you, her arm around you and tucking herself up by your side. You nodded in kind, shrugging as Felix had to hide his laughter in his pint.
"And besides," Farleigh declares in a voice you knew all too well, "if anyone knows how to share it's Y/N," with a cheshire-cat smile and making a show of putting his hand far up your thigh under the table. Surprised by the outright boldness of it all, Felix, who had been trying to take a sip to cover his amusement, ends up snorting beer out of his nose as he laughs, which sets the whole table off.
It's later in the night, several rounds of drinks and plates of chips, when you finally remember to ask Felix about his bike. There's this look in his eyes as he recounts the details, how he'd somehow gotten on the wrong side of something small and sharp when he'd been found by his 'absolute hero'.
"Ollie," he says brightly, "Ollie - Oliver - something, I don't -" he's babbling, and though he doesn't at the time, both yourself and Farleigh react, though in vastly different ways.
"Oliver?" Farleigh draws out the name with disdain, like it's done him some sort of personal affront, or set off a bad smell, judging by his expression.
"Don't make that face," Felix rolls his eyes, giving Farleigh a good-natured shove, but it's all becoming background noise to you as you glance over your shoulder. In your mind, all you can focus on the brief but captivating moments you shared with a blue-eyed Oliver just this morning. As if by fate, when you finally come back to reality, and realise you're staring at the bar, you see those same blue eyes staring back at you, intense and surprised.
"There he is!" Behind you, Felix's voice raises above the din of the pub with barely restrained glee, "Ollie! Oliver! Oliver!" And immediately those blue eyes snap to your attention-grabbing best friend, "come over here, mate!" Felix insists, and you drop your gaze with a faint smile.
As Felix loudly and insistently vies for Oliver's attention and company, you briefly raise your gaze, only to see the disdain on Farleigh's face having grown immensely.
Oliver. Farleigh's classmate Oliver. Insufferable tutoring Oliver. Know-it-all Oliver. 'Thus' Oliver. No regard for style in his academics or his wardrobe Oliver.
Felix's hero, Oliver.
Considering how much joy Farleigh took from ribbing you at every given opportunity, just to see your squirm for his amusement, you supposed you could take some joy from his discomfort in this moment. When he sees your smug smile he scowls at you.
"This guy's my fucking hero," you've heard that warmth in Felix's voice a hundred times over, "just telling everyone how you saved my ass today," you wonder how long it will take Oliver to fall for him too.
Oliver, for his part, plays at being abashed as the rest of the group gives him faint compliments, gaze surprisingly shallow as he takes you all in. Keeping your own eyes down for the moment, you take the cigarette from India that you'd been sharing with her. You quickly reach into Felix's jean pocket beside you for the lighter you know is there, and when you look up to light it, cigarette poised between your lips, you see Oliver's gaze momentarily focused on the lack of space between yourself and Felix, where your hand had disappeared. Felix, you know without even having to look at him, hasn't even looked away from Oliver once.
"Take a seat, I owe you a drink," Felix grins, and is already shoving the few people on his left, before you put a hand on his arm to get him to settle down.
"Could you get the next round, India?" You ask her quietly, and though she hesitates for a moment, she relents, considering it was meant to be her shout after all.
Oliver is hesitating as India stands and smooths out her skirt, heading for the bar, and finally Felix remembers that most people's worlds don't revolve around him.
"Oh, sorry, are you with friends?"
Another moment of deliberation from Oliver, before he finally relents to Felix, and agrees to join them. Looking around, there's a chair next to a table behind Farleigh that was going unused, or -
When you pat the now empty seat at the end of the booth beside yourself, you're not looking at Oliver. Chin in your hand and cigarette poised between your fingers, you're giving Farleigh a grin that's all teeth, while he looks like he's trying to stave off a sudden tension headache.
"Come here, Oliver Quick," you refuse to explain your smug smile, "I don't bite."
"Yes they do," Farleigh huffs in irate response, to which most of the rest of the group cracks up. The leather beside you shifts, and you can feel the heat Oliver radiates before you even look at him.
"Quick, Oliver Quick!" Felix, behind you, is muttering almost to himself, before adding, "wait, how did you know that?" And throwing himself practically over your shoulder as you'd turned to face Oliver properly.
"We met this morning," you say quietly, gaze fixed on Oliver's, on the way he's taking you both in. With Felix's chin on your shoulder, the two of you cheek to cheek and watching him with interest, it could be enough to send anyone else running. But his gaze isn't the shallow one he'd ghosted across the others, he's drinking this moment, and the both of you, in. Smile stretching wide across your face and you tip your head against Felix's, "just as lovely as I thought," and turning your face even slightly towards Felix means your lips against his temple, not that either of you seem to mind, "your hero."
"My fuckin' hero," Felix agrees adamantly, though you and he sit back as India approaches with a tray of pints and an exasperated look.
"And you've given up my seat," she sighs, placing the drinks on the table for everyone else to take their share. Farleigh's already passive-aggressively reached behind himself to grab the extra empty chair, and you promise to make it up to her with a heavy layer of implications that the rest of the table snickers at.
Introductions are made and drinks are had and the night carries on apace until you, at the very least, felt like you could call yourself reasonably wasted. Despite how quiet Oliver is in the general conversation, Felix makes a point of always including him, arm around your shoulders so he can lean across you to talk to him, while Oliver just tried to keep up.
Everything about Oliver shouted that these people weren't his people; his clothes, his accent, his vernacular, his very unfamiliarity with who so many of them were considering their families were often titans of industry. Still, you respected the effort he was making to keep up. Whenever even the hint of a joke at Oliver's expense could be felt in the air, Felix shut it down, and though it started out subtle, it became less so as the night wore on; the grateful look on Oliver's face, even as he tried to duck to hide it, said how much he appreciated the gesture.
It's decided almost unanimously by the time you have to buy a round that it should be the first round of shots for the table. Several more would be to come, but you were getting tequila, and all the fanfare that came with it.
Getting back to the table you find Oliver's slid into your spot by Felix. Though he tries to apologise and get up, you shush him, insisting it's fine as you sit down next to him with the tray of shots topped with lime wedges, and the shot glass half full of salt for the table the bartender had kindly provided.
"You do know this is why I was late to my tutorial this morning," Felix still helped himself to a shot glass with lime as the salt was being passed around the table.
"Salt?" Oliver frowned at the glass in front of him, "lime?"
"You've never done tequila shots before?" Farleigh scoffed, holding India's hand up in front of himself where she'd offered it to him to apply salt.
"No, I haven't," is all Oliver can say awkwardly, watching as Farleigh sprinkled a line of salt across the back of India's aloft hand, licking it up in one swift motion before he took the shot and bit the lime in quick succession.
"Salt, shot, lime," you give Oliver a nudge to bring his attention back to you.
"Salt, shot, lime," Oliver repeats, looking from his glass to the glass full of salt that Felix had reached over and brought to your side of the table, "do I have to lick the salt off of someone else?"
"Not necessarily," Felix says from his other side, while Annabel giggled and allowed him to apply salt to her hand.
"More fun that way," she adds coyly.
"Not unless you want to," your own shot glass sits untouched, salt now sitting between both your glasses.
"Do you- should I-" Oliver's stumbling over his words, fidgeting with the end of the lime.
"Lick it off their neck," Farleigh barked from across the table, and though you tried to tell Oliver that he didn't have to do anything like that, and Felix's disappointed admonishment of his cousin, the entire rest of the table, who had finished their own shots and were now invested in the drama, light up with agreement.
"You're so crass, you're gonna give him the wrong idea," Felix groaned, rolling his eyes with frustration.
"I love Y/N but I don't think there is a wrong idea about them -"
"Watch what the fuck you say about them, Farleigh -"
"Watch what I say about your fucking dog-?"
"I'll lick their neck!" Oliver announces at the top of his lungs, interrupting the vicious barb, and the way Felix had practically leapt across half the table in a sudden fury. For a long moment, tense silence hangs in the air, Farleigh half out of his chair, wearing a sneer, and Felix braced over the table with white-knuckled fists pressed into the woodgrain. Then, as Felix sits back down and things begin to ease, once again all eyes return to Oliver, who's shifting in his seat, looking at you with almost apology in his eyes, "if- if you're okay with that."
After a beat, you break into a self deprecating smile.
"I do like getting my neck licked," you laughed, and immediately angled your head and pulled the collar of your shirt to the side so he could have a better angle and more of your shoulder to apply salt. The tension dropped almost entirely as everyone but Farleigh and Felix burst out in cheers. Chatter arose again as Oliver fumbled with the salt, but you caught Felix's eyes from behind him. Tension in his brow that you longed to smooth away, and discomfort in his gaze, but when you smiled you could see him take a breath, and smile back.
"I won't bite," it comes as a surprise when you hear Oliver say this, so quiet only you can hear as he diligently applies a sprinkle of salt to the soft skin of where your throat meets your shoulder, "promise," you can't see his expression but you think you can hear him smirking. It actually sounds almost like flirting.
India's been glaring at you across the table whenever she hasn't been flirting overtly with Farleigh for the past half an hour. So you flirt back.
"Not even if I ask nicely?" You murmur back, trying to repress the thrill that the whole moment was giving you. You hear the faintest, momentary rumble of a laugh from Oliver before you feel his hand on your thigh as if to steady himself, and his tongue on your neck. It's barely a second of contact, the delicate caress of his mouth as he licked the line of salt clear from your skin. Quickly, he then takes the shot, and swallows before biting down on the lime, making a pained face as the table cheered.
His hand is still on your thigh; his grip is tight.
As he's spluttering and grinning and Felix is clapping him on the back for the effort, he's rather abashedly offering himself to you, if you'd like to repeat the same salt process on him -
"You've done enough for your first shot, Ollie," you told him with a fond nudge, happily applying salt to the back of your own hand, completing the ritual with far less fanfare. Still, when you glance past Oliver to Felix, you see the way he's regarding the newcomer, with a kind of awe and warmth. This too you know well.
Crammed so close in the booth, Felix's arm stays around Oliver's shoulders for most of the rest of the night, and while no-one can see it, Oliver's hand remains on your thigh. Sometimes he taps along to the music of the pub that you've already tuned out, sometimes he's rubbing small circles with his thumb, or give you a squeeze when he's laughing at a joke, but it never waivers.
The more drunk you become, the more you find yourself leaning into him, and you begin to tune out the conversation, focusing only on your drink, the warmth of Oliver and his hand on you, and on the sensation of Felix's hand playing with your hair since his arm was around Oliver's shoulders, and you're leaning your head against him.
Everything's become blurry, your brain is still trying to catch up after you take another shot from muscle memory alone when Farleigh starts insisting on Oliver shout the next round, and for that round to be jaeger bombs.
"We just did shots," you shake your head with a faint frown, but the movement makes you feel all kind of queasy.
"You tapping out?" Farleigh, in much better spirits considering how many he'd consumed, is all wide, challenging smiles full of teeth.
"Nope," you again shake your head, against your better judgement, "never ever ever." Everything is spinning, even with your eyes closed.
"Then you shouldn't be letting Ollie snake his way out of paying for his round," Farleigh sounds all kinds of smug, and despite how you're all kind of done with him for tonight, and Oliver is trying to insist that he's not trying to wiggle out of paying for a round, the rest of the table have apparently taken up Farleigh's crusade. They're booing him, hissing at him, while Farleigh's smugness screams social triumph; you can feel Oliver's fingers twitching on your thigh, like he wants to be fidgeting but can't bring himself to let you go.
"Fine," Oliver relents to the peer pressure, letting you go and throwing his hands in the air, "can you move a sec?" He asks, and you shuffle out to let him past, before scooting back in and back beside a once more frustrated Felix.
Farleigh argues that it's the rules of the pub when Felix asks him to give Oliver a break, but you don't really hear them. You've cleared enough space on the table in front of you to be able to cross your arms on the table, laying your head on your arms to try and see if it would help. Felix is rubbing soothing circles on your back as he argues with Farleigh, probably out of pure habit, so you try and focus on that sensation, and picking a point that you see that you can focus on.
Everything's sideways, the bar, the people, the street outside, but it doesn't matter. In the moments you find yourself focusing on Oliver in the cool light of the bar, everything else falls away. He looks antsy and uncomfortable, watching the bartender pour the shots, wallet in his hand. You'd have paid in a heartbeat if Farleigh hadn't been so insistent on attacking Oliver's pride. Everything else about him was so charmingly ordinary, perhaps that's why Farleigh was infuriated by him, and why he'd attacked Oliver's pride, one of the few things that Farleigh probably believed Oliver had of value to himself.
Tomorrow, you and Farleigh were having words.
Tonight, you wanted to somehow help Oliver without making any kind of big deal about it. Problem was, you weren't sure how. You weren't even sure if you were capable of walking in straight line right now.
"Fi -" when you turn your head to your other side, you see Felix, half finished a cigarette, with a pensive look on his face as he too was watching Oliver. When he looks at you there's a moment that the two of you share, of understanding, of compassion and a shared goal, "can you get me a glass of water?" You asked, knowing he'd take the hint. Thankfully, he smiles at you, the two of you shuffling once more so he could get out of the booth and head towards Oliver and the bar.
Leaning on the end of the booth, you wait for Felix to return before you sit back down, instead focusing on the interaction between the two men at the bar. It's not that you can hear them, but you can see the grateful but anxious look in Oliver's eyes, and the way he can't look away from Felix's smile, and something sharp and bright and intrigued lights up in your chest.
There's a moment as the interaction begins winding down, when Felix takes the tray of drinks, and looks back at your gathered group of friends. His eyes meet yours, faint flicker of familiar affection passing in the next moment as he says something else to Oliver before he's making a beeline back to the group.
"Thank you, Ollie!" He announces brightly, much to the cheer and delight of the rest of the group once the jaeger bombs are set down at the table. Caught up in the sudden influx of joy, you chant Ollie's name, clapping along, not even realising that since you'd let go of the booth you were starting to take on a lean.
"You're fucking legless," Felix crows with laughter, who had already slid back into the booth and was now taking you by the arm and sitting you back down beside himself, "I'm cutting you off, you're on the waters now," he joked, arm around you to steady you, though you weren't inclined to disagree. Thankfully, in the next moment, a water was being placed in front of you, and a cheer was once again rising from the group as Oliver rejoined you all, bashful smile on his face as everyone was lavishing praise on him for following through with buying the round.
The glass was cold and clear and faintly frosted, few ice cubes floating delicately on top of the pint of water before you, looking absolutely perfect in this golden, humid pub. Even just reaching out and holding the cold glass of water in your hands seemed to make everything a little less blurry at the edges.
As you dragged the glass towards you, surprised by your sudden craving for fresh, cold water, praise tumbles from your lips, words half blurring together, and Oliver takes his seat once more beside you.
"Ollie, you're my fucking hero."
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vllergy · 2 months ago
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strawberry scones
s/tar/d/ew v/alley, 2.6 k, s/am allergy fic my farmer has the fetish because i said so, sam/seb/farmer are some kind of polycule also because i said so sorry to call u out directly but just want to note the text messages and dynamics are directly inspired from @bestwhumpist's fics because i'm obsessed with the way you write the 'one partner with the kink and everyone else around them' dynamic and you inspire me xoxoxoxoxoxoxo ty
goblin destroyer + milo abigail: r we still practicing today?? seb: we were supposed to…. abigail: ???  seb: sam might still be dying sam: IM GOOD! IM FINE! i took my allergy meds sam: we’re still on >:|  seb: uh huh sam: im serious! im much better sam: 4pm at my place be there or be lame sam: milo, you in? c: 
The glare from the sun made the surface of his phone near impossible to read at first. Angling his hat forward, Milo let the brim cast a shadow over the screen until the group chat became legible. And when it did, his throat immediately went dry. Nervous heat fluttered in his chest despite the still crisp early spring air and his thumbs became clumsy as they hurried to type back a response. 
milo: you know it!!! i’ll bring snacks
He was about to pocket his phone and resume tending to the bed of soil in front of him when another message came through. A private one, outside the group chat. Milo swiped back to read it and his heart dropped into his stomach.
sebastian: ur so fucked lol 
Upon first arriving, it seemed as though Sam’s insistence on his own well-being was actually genuine. He greeted Milo at the door with clear eyes and a beaming, slightly crooked smile. Feeling like a delinquent for doing so, Milo gave a cursory glance at his nose and found it not even the slightest bit red or raw looking. He tried to temper his disappointment in favor of relief. This was good, actually. If Sam’s allergy meds really were doing their job, this was going to be a lot easier for him to sit through.
Sam threw a lean, muscled arm around Milo’s shoulders and guided him inside. He smelled like fresh laundry and sunshine and was already talking a mile a minute. 
“I think you’re really gonna like the new stuff, Sebastian’s been working on some lyrics that really brought the whole ting together--” he glanced at the tote Milo had clutched under his arm, “Oh shit, you really did bring snacks! I could kiss you, dude.”
They entered Sam’s room—always surprisingly clean for a man so full of boundless energy—and Abigail snorted. 
“Ugh, save it for when I leave,” she muttered, “The three of you can make out on your own time.”
Milo blushed dark red, the freckles on his cheeks nearly dissolving into the pools of color as the heat crawled up his face. Just as his step faltered, Sebastian appeared at his side and snaked an arm around his waist. He pulled Milo free of Sam’s golden aura and cocooned him in his own: velvety and dark and every bit as distracting.
“It was a figure of speech, jeez,” Sam’s cheeks went a little pink too, much to Milo’s delight. The blonde palmed the back of his neck sheepishly while he kicked off his shoes. 
Out of the corner of his eye, Milo caught Sebastian smirking. He never quite knew where the lines between them all existed. He and Sebastian were dating, he was pretty sure of that. But Sam and Sebastian had a thing all of their own too. And for their part, Milo and Sam always seemed to get tongue-tied around one another, a phenomenon Sebastian relentlessly encouraged. 
The only one who could clock all of them from a mile away seemed to be Abigail, who rolled her eyes and snatched the tote away from Milo before retreating back to the couch with it. Cracking open the lid made the room fill with the sweet scent of fresh baked scones. Abigail’s eyes went wide.
“Milo, you outdid yourself,” she gasped.
Milo, who’d just stopped blushing started right up again, and raked a hand through his dark curls.  
“It’s a new recipe.”
“Oh hell yes! Gimme one!” 
Sam darted past and snatched one out of the bin, jamming nearly half of a scone into his mouth with glee. Both Sebastian and Abigail rolled their eyes, but Milo merely watched with unmasked affection. Sam never did anything elegantly. It was all wide-toothed grins, exaggerated movements and unapologetic mirth.
By contrast, Sebastian was more delicate about the whole ordeal. Taking a scone for himself, he held it between his long, pale fingers and inspected the glaze. His dark eyes flickered to Milo.
“Strawberry?” he asked.
Milo nodded, “Picked this morning.” 
Sam had already demolished his first and was onto his second as he stooped down to his guitar case. Scone in mouth, he snapped the latches with his hands and shook hair out of his face like a dog. Milo’s chest squeezed. So cute.
En route to the keyboard, Sebastian stopped and placed a soft kiss on Milo’s cheek. “Thanks, farmer.” His hand strayed to his hip as he passed and pinched at the bone playfully. Milo almost yelped but managed to keep his reaction from emerging. 
He whirled an accusing gaze on Sebastian who merely gave a pointed look over at Sam who now held a half-eaten scone in one hand and was furiously rubbing at his nose with his other.
Abigail used to joke that Milo was a captive audience for these practice sessions. But the truth was, there was nowhere in the world Milo would rather be. As music filled the room, Milo sank back into the old couch Sam had dragged in and pushed against the wall.
He couldn’t hold a tune to save his life and he’d never learned to play an instrument, so the best he could offer was a pair of listening ears for Goblin Destroyer’s new material. He tended to think everything they did sounded great, but he at least pretend to offer varying opinions. He mostly just liked being a part of it all. Plus, watching both Sebastian and Sam in their element had a kind of hypnotizing power over him. 
Unfortunately, not hypnotizing enough to distract Milo from the losing battle happening before his eyes.
Sam turned his head against his shoulder and rubbed his nose against his shirt. With both hands occupied by his guitar, it seemed to be his only option, and one made effortlessly casual at that. It was over and done with in a second, having not missed a beat for his efforts, and it seemed Milo was the only one who’d noticed. It could have been a fluke. 
But of course it wasn’t. 
A few moments later, Sam sniffed hard. The sound was lost behind the music but Milo could see it happen clear as day. The bridge of his nose crinkled a few times and then the tip wriggled as he tried to assuage an itch without actually scratching it. Milo squirmed on the couch, wondering what it might be like to help him. To reach up and rub his nose for him while he played, or run his fingers along the bridge of his nose to try and coax out— 
Sam sneezed without warning. A tightly controlled thing, just one bob of his head and a brief shuttering of his expression. It was impossible to say if he’d made any sound or not given the volume of the music, but Milo doubted it. For as inelegant as Sam could be, he’d been suffering from his allergies for long enough that he’d gotten good at suppressing them. Normally he didn’t bother, at least not around them, but Milo supposed these were different circumstances. There was a certain veneer of professionalism here.
Sam sniffed hard enough to wrinkle his nose again and continued playing, unbothered. But Milo knew where this was going. And he was certainly bothered. 
Sam’s fingers never missed their mark on the neck of the guitar as his eyes fluttered and his head snapped forward once, twice, and then a third time with completely suppressed sneezes. His mouth was shut in a tight line, his expression pinched. He shook his head after the third as if to clear the sensation and arched his shoulder to wipe under his nose as he played. 
Milo felt the room turning to molasses around him. Heat crawled up his throat. Worse still, Sebastian had caught that last outburst. A tiny smirk played on the keyboardist’s pale features as he continued to play, his eyes flashing almost wickedly as he met Milo’s gaze. 
His expression seemed to say Told you. 
There were a few moments of peace. Milo tried to will himself not to look at Sam again but his eyes were pulled there like a magnet. He could tell the fit was getting away from him. Sam’s eyes closed and this time his hands paused their rhythm on the guitar as the tickle distracted him. He tilted his head toward the light, a lock of blonde hair falling limp across his forehead, and then whipped to the side after a brief pause. 
“—tiiew!” 
Milo only caught the tail end of the sound over the music, and the resounding-undoubtedly wet-sniffle was swallowed up by Sam falling seamlessly back on beat. He blinked a little groggily as he continued playing. Then, he must have noticed Milo staring, because he grinned sheepishly and shrugged his shoulders at him. 
That slight acknowledgement of it all went right to Milo’s dick. He somehow plastered on what he thought was a convincing smile in return and then had to cross his legs. His heart began jackhammering in his chest. Fuck, was he really about to have to sit here while this happened? Maybe he really was a captive audience.
Sam struggled in vain to keep playing but his nose had other ideas. Surrendering to the tickle, his hands went slack against the instrument again and his upper lip curled over his canine. Milo couldn’t hear the uptick of his breath but he could imagine it well enough, watching the plane of Sam’s chest swelling against his t-shirt. Hh—hh? Hh?
Sebastian stopped playing. And the pause between Abigail’s drumming was just long enough for the first, clear sneeze to strike through the room crystal clear.
“h’h’JIISHZSHh’huu!” Sam gripped the neck of his guitar and angled away from it. Milo couldn’t tell if he was worried about sneezing near it or just using it as a point of stability. He gasped and let his head snap forward with a second, wet, “hh’tiiISChiew!” 
Abigail stopped playing too. Silence descended, to which Sam quickly shook his head. He turned to the others even while his head bobbed between sneezes, eyes struggling to open during the quick cadence.
“N-no, don’t—nNNCH!—stop, I’m—hNGT!—fiii-nnGXT!—hGNT!—I can keep—tschh! TSCH! Going!”
Sebastian raised an eyebrow, “Yeah, you sound like it.”
“You know when you hold them in like that it only just makes it worse,” Abigail scolded him.
Milo felt like the walls were closing in on him. He quickly angled himself towards the arm of a couch and placed one of the pillows on his lap as strategically as he could. 
Sam lifted the collar of his shirt over his nose and mouth as he geared up for another. “h’Hsshhh-ue!!”  "Bless you," Milo said, his mouth dry.
“I thought you took your allergy meds,” Sebastian sighed.
Sam remained under the cover of his shirt, eyes cinched shut. He gasped wildly and ducked down, “HHh’uPSCHh’ue!” A watery, pathetic sniff followed and Milo could think of nothing else besides the wet mist most likely spraying his own chest. 
As Sam emerged, his nose was pink, nostrils an angry shade and twitching. “I did,” he groaned, “God, I fucking hate sp-sprhiing.” 
Lifting up his shirt again, he pinched the fabric around his nose and shuddered into another, “hh’eSCHh!” 
Milo couldn’t help but notice the slight spot of dampness now forming on the shirt. "Bless you," he said again, trying to keep his voice steady. His eyes were apt to roll back into his head if he wasn’t careful.  "Thagks," Sam sniffed hard.
“Maybe sit this one out,” Sebastian suggested as Sam pawed at his nose, “Abby and I are the ones who have to learn the run anyway.”
To anyone else, it might have sounded like something a concerned friend might say. But Milo could hear the edge of playfulness to it. The slight lilt of teasing that was meant for him, and only him as Sam nodded glumly, shrugged out of the strap of his guitar and made his way over to the couch. 
Milo stiffened, eyes going wide. Sam flopped back, completely oblivious, one arm going behind him around the back of the couch. He dropped his head back, gave a liquid sniffle and groaned. Milo could feel the heat of his arm near his shoulders and chewed on the inside of his cheek so hard he could taste blood.
“Just don’t sneeze all over Milo,” Sebastian warned. 
Milo gave him a desperate look. It must have been really desperate, because Sebastian even laughed and managed to appear a little apologetic. 
“Or the scones,” Abigail added.
Sam gave them both the finger even while turning his face to the side and half-stifling into the open air. The frame of the couch shook softly and his knee brushed against Milo’s as he released it. “hH’NGXtssh!”  He groaned and shifted back. Sam hardly ever looked grumpy, but he was absolutely pouting now. He seemed to be on the verge of saying something else but his arm quickly retracted from behind Milo so he could lean forward. He ducked beneath the safe haven of his shirt again, head dropped and hair falling over his brow as he buried his nose into the fabric. "hh'tscHH!! hhi'zESHhhiyew!"
Milo instinctively reached for him, his hand smoothing over his spine. Sam startled at the sudden contact and bit down the next series of sneezes seemingly on instinct, folding into himself further with each quick set.
"hH'nNNT! nnGSST! nnGXCH!"
"Sorry!" Milo said hurriedly, retracting his arm.
Sam tried in vain to shake his head through and speak through the last of the tickle, "No, my ba-haa'aSScHIEW--bad! Sorry, hh'tssch!--fuck! There."
He'd thoroughly soaked the front of his t-shirt now. Sniffling wetly behind the cover of it, he lifted his gaze with no small amount of bashfulness. A hoarse, weak laugh escaped him. "Bless you doesn't seem to cover it," Milo said, breathless for entirely different reasons.
"Sorry, sorry," Sam continued to apologize, sluicing the moisture from his nose with his shirt.
"Do you not own tissues?" Abigail balked. "My house, I can sneeze where I want," Sam sniffed again before standing up and unceremoniously stripping out of his sodden shirt. Milo blinked, stunned, and could do nothing but stare at the lean muscle on full display as Sam walked towards his dresser. Sebastian cleared his throat and when Milo caught his eye, he was practically grinning. He couldn't remember the last time he'd seen him look so happy. Milo sank further into the couch and forced his eyes to the floor. "Okay, I think the worst's over," Sam declared as he grabbed a fresh shirt. Though Milo caught his profile just as the telltale hitch of his breath followed the statement. "Hh? Hh!"
His long, blonde lashes fluttered as turned to the side, eyebrows lifting in expectation. Milo watched his bare shoulders swell softly as he inhaled, muscles along his ribs flexing. Sam sniffed and seemed to ignite the tickle fully, directing one last tired sneeze towards his elbow. "hH'tishew!"
The exhausted nature of it did something irrevocable to Milo. His mind went completely blank as Sam sniffled through tossing his new shirt over his head and eventually returned to his guitar.
Music started up again but Milo barely heard it. He was lost completely, shoving strawberry scones in his mouth one after another to have something to focus on other than Sam's delightfully pink nose.
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seros-girl · 3 months ago
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something in the orange| fratboy!katsuki bakugo x f!softgirl!reader
summary: childhood competitive friends take a college cooking course together for fun. katsuki bakugo, our amazing frat boy, and y/n, our amazing soft hearted girl. katsuki has a soft spot for her, but because of his ego won't let it show. denki being denki, lets a secret spill out which can ultimately make or break your friendship with katsuki bakugo
authors note: reader is best friends with denki, sero, kyoka, and tenya!!
chapter 1: history
“cmon kats!” 6 year old you yelled out as you ran to the swings. “i’ll beat you!” he said as he picked up his pace to catch up. you reached the swings first and did your victory dance upon beating him. “who’s the loser now” you taunted and katsuki only scoffed and kicked the woodchips under him.
he walked away leaving you confused and sad. it was then your competitive friendship began. was it a friendship? you would call it that yes. he would taunt you and you’d do the same back. it got worse upon reaching middle school.
“loser i got an A” he shoved his math test in your face as he looked down at yours which said a C+. “fuck you katsuki” you said shoving him and getting up. “how are you gonna let the nerd beat you?” he taunts after you pointing over at izuku who had an A as well on his math test.
“just shut the fuck up for once” you said and walked out. it carried on like that in middle school and high school. “im applying to UA University how bout you?” you told izuku as he stammered to say he was applying there too.
“you losers wont get in, especially you princess” he teases you and you scoff. “it has a 10% acceptance rate theres no way they’ll accept the 3 of us” he said trying to reason with you. one thing about katsuki bakugo, he can be a dick to everyone including you, but there was a limit for you.
we can call it a soft spot for sure. he wont let his ego show it though. you applied anyway and three months later got the acceptance. you facetimed katsuki. “GUESS WHAT LOSER” you yelled into the camera as you held up your letter of acceptance. “I GOT IN!” you exclaimed jumping around your room.
“knew it dumbass” he smirked and held his up too. “guess we’ll be going to college together” he grumbles as if it bothers him. he’s actually glad. it means he gets to see you more.
“got a scholarship though” he brags leaning back in his chair. “for track and field no way?” you said a little bit jealous. you both were on the track team and you think youre pretty good at the events you do, but katsuki getting a scholarship is just another reason why he’s better than you.
“dont let it get out i want it to be a surprise” he winks at you and you roll your eyes. “what’d you apply as?” you ask him and he smirks. “applied for computer science and you?” he asks you. “dance” you said sheepishly as you looked at him through the camera. his face turns into one of shock.
“its hard to get into the college of dance and you got in?” he says his face turning into a smile. “yea” you said hiding your face now. “looks like you’ve one upped me this time princess” he teases and you smile. “well i gotta go katsuki congratulations” you said sincerely.
“bye congratulations to you too” he said before turning off the facetime. you blush as you got up. your stupid big crush on katsuki only growing stronger. you cant do anything about it though. which is why when you get to college, its time for boy searching.
●~*
your parents helped you settle into your dorm. what you really liked about the dorm system in this school, was 1. that it was co-ed and 2. you had a room to yourself. "hey! just popping in to see who my neighbor is!" you hear and you turn to see a tall woman with a kind smile.
"hi im y/n, its so nice to meet you! and yours?" you asked trailing off as you reached to shake her hand. "momo yayorozu, its nice to meet you too! i live to the left of you 5C on your right it's a male in 5E" she informed you. you nodded your head and smiled at her.
"well i'll see you around" she waves and walks off to the stairs. "okay were done here sweetie" your mom said grabbing her bag and you smiled at her. your other mom kissed your head and pulled you in for a hug. "have fun, but not too much" she squeezes you.
"let me walk you guys out" you said closing your dorm, locking it. you walk down the flight of stairs and when reaching the fourth floor your moms let out a gasp. "mitsuki bakugo?" they giggled as they moved to hug their longtime friend. you looked at katsuki as he stared at you confused.
"youre dorming in this building too?" he asks you bothered at the fact you chose this building. you nodded and forced your moms to leave. katsuki smirked before going into his dorm and locking it, bidding a goodbye to his mom.
you walked back up to the fifth floor and when doing so collided with two others. you looked up to see a boy with half white and half red hair and another with a mullet. “woah slow down” the one with the mullet joked.
“let me guess are you a todoroki?” you asked looking up at the boy and he sighs nodding yes. “nice to meet you” you smiled and he gave a tight lipped one back. “hanta sero” mullet boy introduces and takes your hand kissing it.
perfect, you thought.
you blushed at his actions and proceeded to tell both boys your name. “i live in 5D” you said and hanta smiled. “awesome im in 5E” he informs you and you recall momo telling you a male was to your right. “well nice to meet you neighbor” you winked and walked off. “i didnt get to tell her my name” you heard todoroki say and you giggled entering your room.
a knock was heard at your door and you moved to open it. “why are you in this building” katsuki demanded as he walked in. “welcome?” you questioned closing your door. “yeah whatever why-“ he was interrupted by a knock on your door. you opened it to see hanta and you smiled.
he leaned against your door frame and smiled at you. katsuki scoffed in annoyance. “hey señorita came to give this to you” he said handing you your wallet. you grabbed it from him thanking him.
“already have a boy over you move fast” he teased as he looked at katsuki standing not far from you. “just my childhood frenemy” you rolled your eyes looking at katsuki. “yea you interrupted something can you get the fuck out?” he grumbled and you slapped his arm.
“dont be fucking rude” you said giving him attitude and you turned back to sero. “came to ask you something too” he said nervously as he looked down at his feet and then back to you. “would you like to grab coffee sometime on campus?” he asks and you immediately nod your head.
he smiles at you bidding you a goodbye and you closed your door. “already looking for a man?” katsuki scoffed and laughed lightly. “im an 18 year old girl of course i am” you said matter of factly.
“i was thinking” he starts and you look up at him. “you haven’t registered for classes yet have you?” he asks and you nod your head. “i did but we can still add some to our schedule if we’d like” you said moving around him to place your wallet on your desk.
“they offer a cooking class for fun, wanna take it together?” he says and you can hear the smirk in his voice. “are you challenging me katsuki or do you just wanna spend time with me?” you smiled sweetly at him.
your smile made his heart melt and he covered it up by just smirking at you again. “a challenge see who gets the better grade” he said and you think about it. “deal” you said holding your hand out. he shakes it sealing the deal. “im so gonna win” he scoffs and you stick your tongue out at him.
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mountttmase · 2 years ago
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No idea if you’re up for this but your smut it always spot on so this is me requesting for the first time. Kind of like mason doing some kind of no nut november thing, so he hasn’t had any relief in weeks and get hard pretty easily and it constantly in a bad mood bc of it. You know that so when he’s cooking dinner you hug him from behind, innocently at first before using the chance to dip your hand in his joggers and stroke him and he wants to fight you but it feels too good? It’s okay if you won’t write it, but I still wanted to ask :)
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I Won’t Tell If You Don’t
Note - Okay but I actually love this request 😂 this was so fun to write so thank you for sending it to me and for your kind words 💕 please let me know what you think
Pairing - Mason Mount x Reader
Word count - 3.8k
Warnings - smut and fluff
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‘No nut November? Im sorry, Mase what the hell are you on about?’
‘We’re all trying it at chels’ he shrugged as he sat besides you in the sofa, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and bringing him into you a little bit.
‘What? Like some weird bonding thing? What are you 13?’ Mason just laughed at your grumpiness, kissing your head lightly as you kept your eyes on the tv. ‘You could of told me before today, at least then we could of made last night a bit more special’ you grumbled, thinking back to the drunken quickie you and Mason had the night before when you got home from Kai’s Halloween party. Today was November the 1st and you felt like you hadn’t had any time to prepare.
‘We’re trying to practice self control’
‘Well it’s stupid’
‘You’re just moody cause you think you won’t be getting any for a month’ he teased and you rolled your eyes at his cockiness. ‘Don’t worry, baby. I’ll still take care of you’ he whispered, kissing your neck gently as you felt your skin erupt in goosebumps. ‘I can still still use my mouth and my tongue, and my fingers’ he promised you, shifting you over into his lap so you were straddling his legs. ‘And these’ he laughed, tapping his thighs. ‘You know you can use me whatever way you want to get yourself off’
You couldn’t believe how easily he seemed to get you in these positions and you weren’t exactly complaining, his words sending a pool of heat to your underwear as you thought about all the other ways he could still please you but you couldn’t lie, you loved him being inside you the most.
‘But I want you Masey, I wanna feel you’ you breathed before attaching your lips to his and he groaned into your mouth at your words and the feeling of you grinding down onto him.
‘You can have me soon yeah? I promise it won’t be long’ he persuaded you, his voice slightly strained before he attached his lips back on to yours. You let the kiss get a little bit hot and heavy before stopping it, standing up to see the tent that was clearly visible in his grey joggers and he whimpered at the loss of contact.
‘You really think you can put up with this for a whole month?’ You asked, cocking your brow and crossing your arms but he just closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths.
‘I am the master of my own body’ he whispered but you were over all of it so with one final huff you marched upstairs to take a cold shower. If that’s how he wanted to to play it then fine, but you never promised you’d make it easy for him.
After your shower you got into bed, no longer wanting to talk to him about it so you picked up your book instead and got settled. You were only about five pages in when he entered your bedroom, clearly wondering where you were as he looked at you with a pout.
‘What you doing up here?’ He asked, crawling in next to you and laying his head on your lap.
‘Just reading my book’ you told him with a shrug and he gave you a small nod. You both were quiet after that, him letting you read whilst he lay there, his eyes shutting as soon as your fingers made their way into his hair on instinct.
‘Which drawer do you keep all your nice underwear in, love?’ He suddenly said in a soft voice and you looked down to find him looking up at you with gentle eyes
‘The second one down on the right, why?’
‘I’m putting a lock on it. Granny pants from now on yeah? In fact, I don’t wanna see you in your underwear at all. I’m gonna buy you a onsie I think’ he mused and you huffed whilst rolling your eyes, not thinking anything of it until he was up and inspecting the drawer and how he might me able to keep it closed.
‘You realise all of this is no good for you right? It’s healthy to cum, Mase’ you told him, placing your book down but he didn’t acknowledge what you said. In the end you left him to it, putting your book down so you could go to sleep in hopes this was all some weird dream.
However, unfortunately for you this seemed to be a nightmare you couldn’t wake up from. Mason was deadly serious and it had been four days since he’d told you about his plan and to say you were frustrated as hell was an understatement. Obviously he’d told you he would still sort you out if you needed him to but you felt weird about the whole thing.
You knew Mason loved to make you feel good, always putting your pleasure before his but that didn’t mean you were selfish about it. You loved having Mason in the palm of your hand, knowing it was you making him feel that way and you making those pretty noises fall from his lips.
You weren’t sure how much more you could take though, and when he got home the next day you had to stop yourself from asking him to do something as soon as he walked through the door.
You somehow made it through the evening and when you joined him in bed you were quick to press your back up to his chest and wiggle your bum into his crotch.
‘I wondered how long you could keep that up for’ he laughed and even though you couldn’t see him you wanted to wipe that smug smile right off his face. You were desperate for him to touch you though so you let him carry on. ‘What do you want, gorgeous?’
‘You know what I want’
‘Okay then, what’s the second thing you want?’ He chuckled, his hands gripping at your hips playfully as he kissed your neck lightly ‘Come on, tell me’
‘I just want you to make me cum’ you breathed, and you felt him groan into your neck. His lips stayed where they were, kissing and sucking away as he moved his hand down to you thigh, hooking it up and over his own so he had better access to you before he gently pushed your underwear to the side so he could drag his fingers up your folds. You couldn’t help but moan contently into the air as his hands explored your body, slowly pulsing his fingers inside of you and bringing your high to the surface as quickly as he could. Because you had been thinking about him all day, it wasn’t long before you were there and you could tell he was cocky about it, but you could also feel him hard against your bum and you were hoping he’d forget his little commitment and go all the way.
You were wrong though, as soon as he’d ridden you through your high and made sure you were okay, he was up and in the bathroom so he could take a cold shower before returning to you so you could warm him up with your cuddles.
You weren’t sure why, you you were left feeling unsatisfied. Yes you’d got what you wanted technically but it didn’t feel like the full experience you were hoping for. And that’s how the days and weeks went on, him making sure you got what you needed but you never got him fully. It felt like you were in an endless cycle of foreplay, never quite making it to the main event and no matter what you tried he wouldn’t budge.
Failing to find something to lock your underwear drawer up with, you came home one night to find he’d taped a cross over the front with black and yellow caution tape to discourage you from opening it and you would of been mad if it wasn’t for the fact he’d brought you matching onesies that he looked pretty adorable in and seemed excited by.
You ignored his tape, making sure to wear the sexiest underwear you could find under your onesie so he got a little show when you took it off before bed. You loved the way his eyes lit up as he took you in before he made you see stars with his mouth or his fingers or when he was feeling particularly cheeky he’d make you ride his thigh just so you could look him in the eye as you used him.
But still, he didn’t once break and if you weren’t so annoyed at him, you’d probably be impressed. That didn’t stop him from getting hard at the drop of a hat though and his mood was spiralling as each day passed. He was 17 days in when he snapped at you for not grabbing his favourite cookies in the weekly shop, storming off upstairs and leaving you to pack everything away on your own with tears in your eyes.
He came back about 15 minutes later and you stood sniffling with your back to him before he slowly made his way over, hugging you from behind and kissing you shoulder gently.
‘Sorry baby’ he whispered into your neck and you shivered as his nose grazed the side of your ear. ‘I didn’t mean it I’m just a bit frustrated’ he told you and you sighed as you lent into his body, wiping your eyes as you tried to get your bottom lip to stop wobbling.
It was soon day 24 and you weren’t sure if you could survive the rest of the month with him like this. Always walking round with a permanent sour face and a persistent boner. You knew it must of been difficult and maybe you were being a bit harsh on him so you decided to drop the constant teasing and help him ride out the last days.
You returned home that evening to find Mason in the kitchen, his back to you as he was was stirring a pot on the stove completely oblivious to your presence. He was standing there in just his joggers, his top half bare and you wondered how he hadn’t managed to burn himself yet. You didn’t mind though, taking the time to appreciate the way his joggers hugged his bum so perfectly and the way the muscles flexed under his skin as he moved his arms.
You were desperate, and you knew he was too but he was just too stubborn to admit it. You also knew he wanted to make it to the end of the month so you shook the thoughts from your head and approached him carefully, wrapping your arms around his waist and kissing his back when he jumped slightly at your touch.
‘Sorry baby’ you whispered, continuing to kiss along his exposed skin as he little out a little chuckle.
‘That’s alright, I didn’t know you were in. You okay back there?’ He asked and you could sense the smile in his voice.
‘I’m fine’ you mused, following the path of moles and freckles that adorned his back before nestling your nose in between his shoulder blades.
You could feel his abs fluttering under your fingertips which made you let out a content sigh. You loved Masons body and you loved how it reacted to your touch so quickly.
‘You feel kinda cold, bubs. Are you alright?’ You whispered into his skin and you smiled as you felt him shudder, your words clearing having an effect on him.
‘I’m a little chilly but I’ll live’ he chuckled so you began running your hands over his skin to try and warm him up a bit. You couldn’t ignore the faint moan that fell from his lips at your touches, the sound making want to clench your thighs together as it had been so long since you’d heard it.
You didn’t mean to, but you felt your fingers dip lower than they should of, brushing against the growing tent in boxers but he didn’t move or push you off. If anything his moans only encouraged you to touch him more until you eventually dipped your hand into his joggers to find there weren’t any boxers there at all.
You didn’t say a word, just carried on stroking him and kissing his back as he grew harder in your hand. It was like you were both in this lust filled haze where you’d forgotten about everything else, just the feel of each other after so long.
Mason was stood perfectly still, the pan he was once stirring was now bubbling over so you quickly switched the hob off and took the spoon out of his hand to place it on the side.
‘Masey, I won’t tell if you don’t’ you whispered into his neck and you smiled as you felt him shudder. ‘Just let me baby, I’ll make you feel so good I promise’
He didn’t say yes, but he also didn’t say no so you gently turned him to you and the look in his eyes told you everything you needed. You took his hand and led him out of the kitchen and straight over to the sofa and he was following behind you like a lost puppy.
Before he sat down, you tugged his joggers down his legs before pushing on his shoulders to make him sit. His eyes were on you the whole time as you knelt down on the floor between his knees, kissing over his thighs before you took him in your hand again.
‘Baby I really shouldn’t’ he breathed, shutting his eyes as he rested his head back on the sofa. You thought he was about to tell you to stop but when you felt him pull your hair up in his hands so it was out of your face you realised he wanted it. ‘Just go slowly for me, yeah?’ He asked and you nodded gently before taking him into your mouth.
You were ready to give him the best blow job of your life but you knew he’d enjoy it anyway since it had been so long for him. You did as he asked though, keeping things steady and slow and from the noises coming from him and the grip on your hair, you knew he was in heaven right now.
‘Fuck I’ve missed that pretty little mouth of yours baby’ he breathed, eyes shut as his head was forced back. ‘Always so good for me, aren’t you?’
‘Mhmm’ you hummed around him, the added vibrations clearly too much for him as he pulled you off by your hair and you wiped your mouth as he looked down at you with crazed eyes.
‘Jesus Christ, I nearly cum right there and then’ he breathed and you took the opportunity to start removing your clothes as he took himself in his hand and watched you, stopping every so often when he ‘d gone too far until you were completely naked and he beckoned for you to come and sit on his lap.
‘I wanna fuck you so bad but I know I’m not gonna last more than ten seconds inside you’ he admitted with a slight chucked but you were ready for him.
‘I don’t care, we’ll just have to go again’ you told him, kissing along his jaw. ‘How about we run up and have a shower together? Less mess that way’ You suggested and he squeezed your hips in agreement before pushing you up from his lap.
‘Go get it running, I’ll be up in a second yeah?’
‘Okay’ you whispered, kissing him quickly before dashing to your en-suite. You got the shower going quickly and only a few minutes later was he joining you, walking to wards you with his bottom lip between his teeth.
Without a word, you turned away from him and pressed you body against the cold tiled wall, parting your legs as an invitation and you moaned out bit when you felt his hands run down your back and pinch your bum cheeks.
He lined himself up with you before slowly pushing himself in, the pair of you letting out a sigh of relief as you felt each other finally after all these weeks. His hands that were resting on your waist moved around to your front before they parted. His right hand traveling down to where you needed him whilst his left traveled up to you neck, holding you at the base of your throat as he tightened his grip ever so slightly and pulled your body up to press against him as he thrusted into you slowly.
‘Fuck baby, if I ever suggest doing this again, please tell me how fucking stupid I am’ he whined and you smiled at his words, hands pressed up against the tiles as you tried not to loose your balance.
‘Gladly’ you chucked but the hand tightening around your throat made you gasp.
‘God I wanna fuck you so hard but I don’t wanna cum too quick, you feel so fucking good baby you have no idea’
‘I do’ you managed you chock out, overwhelmed by the way he was filling you so perfectly and hitting the spot you needed him too
‘Fuck’ he groaned, thrusting into you as fast as he could for a few seconds before he quickly pulled out and spilled himself onto your bum. His hands were back on your waist as his forehead come to rest on your back and he quickly washed himself off of you. ‘Sorry, love. I couldn’t hold it’ he laughed as you turned to face him with a smile to let him know it was okay.
‘Don’t worry about it, just make sure you’re ready again soon’ you winked and his face turned from embarrassed to cocky immediately, cupping your jaw as he backed you up against the wall so he could kiss you again. The warm water tricking over the pair of you relaxed you and when he placed his thigh in between yours you couldn’t help but rock your hips over him to keep the feeling between your legs alive. It didn’t take long for you to feel him harden against your thigh and you knew he was ready for round two.
‘Baby can we get on the bed?’ He asked pulling away and turning the water off. You chucked at his pout and pulled him back to you but he was looking down at you with a twinkle in his eye.
‘We’re all wet, Mase. We’ll soak the bed and then we’ll have to sleep in it’
‘Well let’s go to one of the guest rooms then’ he suggested, grabbing your hand and leading you across the hall and into the first room he came too.
‘You’re absolutely nuts’ you chuckled as he pulled you onto the bed with him, slotting you into his side as he hovered over you. He didn’t say anything, just kissed you immediately before his hand travelled to your clit, still wet from the shower as he traced lazy circles over it until you were bucking up into him.
‘Such a needy girl’ he whispered into your mouth before getting himself in position, resting your thighs on his forearms so you were practically bent in half when he lent over you. Again his pace was slow but you loved getting to feel every inch of him invade you as he looked down at you with lust filled eyes. ‘Do you know how hard it’s been? Touching you, tasting you, making you cum and then just leaving you?’ He groaned, pulling you legs up over his shoulders and holding your hands by your head. ‘I don’t know how I’ve lasted this long without you but it’s never happening again’
‘Faster, please Mase I want more of you’ you whimpered, trying to meet his movements but he was trying to drag it out, trying to remember this feeling so he’d know he couldn’t be away from you this long again. He did as you asked though, pounding into you deliciously and you held onto the bed sheets Your eyes were on his face but his were closed, clearly lost in the moment but you wanted to see him, to let him know how much you’d missed this. ‘Masey, please look at me’ you whined and his eyes flew to yours before he dropped your legs to back around his waist so he could rest his forehead on yours.
‘Fuck, I love you so much’ he breathed and you felt a shiver run up your spine at the way he was looking at you.
‘I love you too’ you whispered before he really started to pound into you, his fingers finding your clit so he could help you along before you wake around him which caused him to do the same shortly after. He collapsed to the side of you but bought you into his aroma fairly quickly, holding you tight and kissing your head.
‘I really wanted to make it to the end’ he whispered and you pulled back to look at his pouty face.
‘I know you did. But it’s not healthy and you were a right grump’ you laughed, kissing his jaw as he gave you an annoyed look. ‘But like I said, we can keep this between us, no one needs to know’
‘Yeah I know but it won’t feel right’ he huffed, trailing his finger up and down your back lightly. ‘Damn you for being so irresistible’
‘Sorry baby’ you chuckled, kissing his cheek a few times before he turned his head so you could kiss him properly. ‘I’m impressed you went as long as you did, and yeah you might not of gone all the way but at least we got some cute onesies out of it’
'I do like the onsies. he agreed, pulling you into him even more. 'How about we hop back in the shower so we can get you clean and warmed up again so we can put them back on and i'll finish making dinner, yeah?'
'Sounds perfect' you told him. Thankful his little experiment was over and you now had your favourite person back.
End
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heartkaji · 5 months ago
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[ ★ ⸻ @maiinoclock ]
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★ OVERVIEW
hi !! omg people acc simp for shidou 😟/j anyway you and shidou’s relationship would be so chaotic i think 😭 i feel like you guys are that one couple breaking up over the smallest things, and even as exes yall still have no idea what ‘no contact’ means. like, yall would be less than two weeks into the break up and shidou’s already calling your line asking you to link 🤦‍♀️ at first you always say no, but unfortunately you’re gonna give up sooner or later 🧍‍♂️ idk it’s just smth about the way he calls you cute nicknames ig 💘
Q5 — WHAT DO OTHERS THINK ABOUT YOUR RELATIONSHIP ?
EVERONE thinks you guys are toxic. or a dangerous match. or both. sae’s waiting for the moment you realize this man has been gay all along (dw girl you never will ! but he definitely swings in more than one way.) anyway, every week you two are breaking up over the dumbest shit and your girl friends are TIRED of hearing it. everyday it’s “oh i broke up with him cuz he was liking some bitch’s posts” and then the next day it’s “nevermind guys we’re back together again.” safe to say your girls are sick and tired. truth is, you and shidou simply cannot stay away from each other. no matter how intense your fights get you always find a way back to one another, and ngl your mates (and shidou’s) are tired of it.
charles doesn’t take yall seriously either. he loves you actually, you’re his favorite ex of shidou (or girlfriend, depends on which day of the week it is) but even he doesn’t entertain shidou’s rants about you anymore. he used to LOVE the gossip, but now he just rolls his eyes.
“yall will be back together by tuesday, give it a rest gang.”
Q12 — WHAT DO THEY NOT LIKE ABOUT YOU ?
your trust issues (which are 100% not your fault btw!!) you were actually really trusting initially, always giving shidou the benefit of the doubt. but shidou got an inch and took a mile. he’s never actually cheated, but you always catch him in some girl’s likes or tiktok comments saying “lemme eyp” 💀💀 GIRL IM SO SORRY but like this is shidou 😭 also he’s definitely the kind of guy who reposts hot girls on his fyp i fear 💔 anyways once u confronted him abt all that it stopped, but you occasionally catch him in a girl’s likes from time to time. stuff like that is usually the cause of your fights, and it’s lead to you not trusting him. you’re skeptical about nearly everything he says and does and you NEVER cut him slack. you stand on business (sometimes). if he pisses you off he gets a good scolding followed by silence. no contact at all. but after a while you unfortunately miss your ex and find your way back 💔
honestly, i don’t think shidou does any of the stuff he does to be unfaithful or weird. i genuinely think he’s just been single for a long time and so his every media is just saturated with inappropriate pics of women 😭 you open his insta and his discovery pages is filled with bikini models and only fans promoters. sometimes he absentmindedly likes a few. if shidou were to reset his tiktok and insta trust me you’ll never catch him in anybody’s likes ever again. fuck is he looking for with randoms on the internet when he’s got you ?
Q13 — WHAT DO THEY LOVE MOST ABOUT YOU ?
how assertive you are. he finds it irresistibly hot when you tell him no. shidou’s no stranger to easy girls. back when he was still single, he had a whole roster of pretty girls who’d do anything he asked. but you’re different; you live by your own rules, you see shidou when it’s convenient for you, when you feel like it. sometimes, depending on your mood you treat him like he doesn’t even exist and heaven knows it drives him crazy. he’s not used to having a girl who treats him like an option and damn does it make him worship you. you’re kinda like sae in that aspect actually, and he’s every bit as obsessed with you as he is with the red head.
>> 𝐌𝐀𝐈𝐍 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓 <<
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© ─ heartkaji ; do not steal, copy, edit, translate or reupload
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aves-ery · 2 years ago
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CEO or Mob boss Wanda and stripper R👀 maybe she's just getting some visit to a certain club and she only have her for R but R is kind avoiding her. R is kind of snappy and feisty for Wanda but Wanda loved her more. One night she saw R entertaining other guests so she brought the whole club and kicked everyone out so she could have R all for herself.
Idk maybe you'd like to consider, btw you works are great and wonderful and so are you! Thanks!!!
one, thank you! two, this is ctually so bad bc I'm tired and for some reason forgot how to write good smut? but heres just wanda crazy for you.
pairing; CEO!wanda x stripper!reader
warnings; smut 18+ ONLY, infatuated wanda, praise!!, strap-on, fingering
if anyone saw wanda at a strip club, it'd be a field day for press. but quite honestly, she didnt care when she laid her eyes on you. she saw the flashes of the cameras when she walked in, but when she saw you in that lingerie, she didn't care what the articles were gonna read the next day.
wanda sat snug in a booth, watching you from afar. her silk button up was unbuttoned down to her upper stomach, her boobs only covered by her tight fitting sports-bra.
"i want that one," she pointed you out to all of her boss friends, a beer bottle still in hand. you were all over someone else, a lap dance she presumed.
one of the guys whistled you over, waving a "come here" motion. wanda knew it wasnt the way to get your attention, but you followed through, stalking over to them. you smiled, waving.
"hey gentlemen," you said seductively, plopping your pretty ass onto Tony's lap. wanda rolled her eyes.
"actually, as pretty as you are baby, this one wanted ya," tony pointed to wanda, and wanda waved her fingers.
"you just caught my eye, pretty," she said. you recognized the CEO immediately. you had to fight an eyeroll because no way in hell you were letting some snob like wanda touch you. you turned to the gruffy man whose lap you are on.
"i came over to see you," you avoided. the men around the table laughed, making fun of wanda. wanda just told them to all "shut the fuck up."
she tried to get your attention all night, buying you drinks, complimenting you, trying to just make you say hi. all she'd get in response is an eye roll and a "leave me alone."
"yo, get away from the girl she told you to stop," a bouncer said, pushing wanda away from you.
"look man, im not trying to cause a problem. she's just a pretty lady," wanda laughed, trying to use her charm to make him let her through.
"sorry, the girls not comfortable with you," the bouncer said again. wanda groaned, pulling out her wallet.
"c'mon ill even pay to just talk to her, man," wanda pulled out a few hundred dollar bills, and you rolled your eyes at the interaction. "i wont touch her, fucking promise. just wanna get to know the gal," wanda pleaded.
the bouncer looked at you, pointing at the money. wanda was at least holding 500 dollars in her hand currently. it was a silent agreement, and wanda was allowed into the private room
she handed a bill to the bouncer, then a few to you, before sitting in one of the booths. "you're a feisty one," she joked. you rolled your eyes.
"you can't buy me," she snapped. wanda nodded.
"im not trying to, babe. you're just... very intriguing," wanda said.
-
you had complained all of the next week, even after you didnt see wanda. you just didnt want her around, and didn't want her paying her way to you.
wanda found that out quickly, but she couldn't help it. you deserved to be worshiped with everything she could buy.
she sent you flowers, chocolates, everything to work. she didn't even know what days you worked, and she still sent them. Every time, you snacked on the chocolate and left the flowers in the trash. you didn't complain about that though. if she was going to spend money on you, she was going to laugh about it.
wanda came again two weeks later. she smiled and waved at you, but you continued flirting with a client. your hands on the man more than usual, making sure to get a rise out of her. you avoided her, but from close by. she'd call you over, and you'd give a lap dance to a guy near her.
wanda was fucking tired of it. that week, she bought the whole strip club. when you found out, you quit.
"no." wanda said.
"what?! you're fucking crazy. you're stalking me!" you screamed. wanda raised her eyebrows, standing up
"im not stalking you!" she screamed back at you
you laughed, "right. you're just fucking craz-" wanda kissed you. hard. you pushed her away, looking at her like she was actually insane, because she was, and then you kissed her back harder.
wanda grabbed your hips, picking you up and setting you on her desk. "you were just too pretty to leave alone. I'd buy the whole earth to be with you," she told you.
you thought she was joking, but she really wasn't. wanda was infatuated with you. when you looked her in the eyes, you could tell. you kissed her hard, allowing the woman you barely knew to have all of you.
"you're so pretty," wanda said, removing your sweater and kissing your breasts. you blushed, nodding.
"thank you," you whispered, moaning softly.
"you'll never have to work again, okay? and I'll win you over, i promise. I'll take you out on dates, I'll buy you dinner," wanda got on her knees sliding your shorts down, looking at you in the eyes. "I'll do anything, for you."
you blushed again, nodding, "win me over," you moaned. wanda nodded, sliding your panties over and taking you in.
"such a good girl," she praised, licking you fully. you shook softly, tangling your hands into wanda's hair. her lips found your clit, sucking softly.
you let out another breathy moan, and another as two digits pushed into you. your hand flew everything off the desk, and you lied back. wanda could deal with it later, you decided.
she was quick to make you cum, cleaning your thighs and kissing them both. she got rid of her pants, revealing a large red strap on. you looked at wanda with shaky arms and legs, smiling at her.
she didn't bother to take her button up off, only her pants and boxers, before shuffling towards you. "can i make you mine?" wanda asked, kissing your palms. you smiled up at her.
"yes," you said again, kissing her deeply. wanda smiled, lining her strap up with your cunt, before softly making her way into you.
the strap was the biggest you've taken, so you were grateful for wanda's soft nature. she looked at you, searching for any sign of discomfort. when she didn't find any, she started to go faster.
your hands found her back, gripping her shoulders and scratching down her back, "faster, wanda," you pleaded.
wanda nodded quickly, making sure to pick up the pace, "anything for you, doll," wanda kissed her thumb. she grabbed your boobs, kissing them both before kissing your lips. "you're so pretty like this," wanda said, kissing you again.
"thank you," you moaned. wanda's hand found your clit, rubbing softly until you came around her strap.
when you finished, she pulled out and washed you up with a washcloth. she then put you back into your shorts, and then her own hoodie.
"gonna get you back home and run you a bath, kay? dont gotta worry about anything ever again. I'll take care of you."
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