#is being down in the basement all day ok

[grunklefordpines]

heyyy Stanford!!! you know all that stuff i said about Calypso? you know I didn't mean it! i do that with all your crushes!

- @grunkle-stanley-pines (ooc hes trying SO hard..)

It’s fine, Stanley.

Really.

[seaofreverie]

Anyway.... Back to what I was pondering earlier today... It's been 4 months but I'm still as deeply obsessed with Exotic Creatures of the Deep as at the very start

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[lace-coffin]

Hi! Can I ask how the slashers would feel if they ever accidentally hurt their s/o? Gender and everything is up to you!

How slashers would react to Accidently hurting their S/O

Thank you so much for my first ever request ah! I hope you enjoy 💖

Requests are open!

Warning for blood/injury - mild sexual content/reference to sexual activity and power dynamics -unhealthy relationships (I think?)

Reader is gender neutral!

Bubba sawyer

Most likely happened via Bubba playing too hard and Accidently pushing you over or being a bit too heavy handed with you. If it’s a case of them mistaking you for a victim and catching you with their chainsaw before being able to stop then they’ll be even more in inconsolable : (

Stops and stares for a minute to process what’s happened before devolving into full blown panic.

She’ll drop whatever she’s doing to carry you back to the house, even if that means letting the victim escape and having Drayton yell at her.

Will hurriedly explain in rushed sign to either Choptop or Nubbins to go take care of the victim as he’s busy caring for you.

Checks you over frantically. Please explain you’re going to be ok and help them calm down.

Once he knows you’re not in any danger he’ll feel absolutely awful about it and whine apologies to you even if you tell him that it’s ok and it wasn’t their fault.

Please comfort them once you feel better and reassure them.

Will insist you come up with a verbal and nonverbal sign to give if they’re accidently messing around to hard.

Will make you agree to stay in the house out of the way when victims are around so you don’t Accidently get hurt again.

Thomas Hewitt

After another night of Hoyt berating him for things out of his control, Tommy storms off to the basement to cool off. You follow after him, intending to comfort and wanting to help. You place a hand on his shoulder without thinking, forgetting he doesn’t enjoy physical touch without warning, thinking it might help. Whipping around he grabs your wrist a little too hard, causing you to wince.

He snatches his hand back as soon as he realises what he’s done.

Tommy will bring you to Luda may to have her check you over and assess the damage.

Once he knows you’re safe he’ll confine himself to the basement for a few days, only coming out to eat but even then it’s tense.

He’s truly sorry and feels like all those people who called him a monster and an animal were right, he hurt the one he cares about most, after all.

After a few days apart, a lot of hushed words of affirmation and kisses/nose bumps he’ll feel comfortable being with you again.

You know to let him cool off by himself and come to you when he’s ready after a heated argument now.

Michale Myers

You jump out at Michael thinking it would be funny to catch the shape off guard for once and not the other way around. Unfortunately this backfires and he swings his knife at you, thinking it may be an intruder since you’ve never pulled something like this before, You manage to jolt out of the way but the knife still catches you in the shoulder. Thankfully, it’s only superficial and will heal, but it still looks like it needs medical attention.

Initially Michael looks at you unamused, granted it’s hard to tell what he’s feeling underneath the mask. He gives you a kind of “well If you weren’t being dumb this wouldn’t have happened” attitude. However this is a front for the actual panic he refuses to show on the surface.

Having a few cuts and scratches isn’t super uncommon when your with Michael considering his tastes involving knives in bed ; )

Usually hurting others comes naturally and without remorse to Michael, so it shakes him to his core that he’s actively worrying about your wellbeing instead of feeling the usual indifference.

It disturbs him that he actually cares about someone enough to feel remorse for his actions.

After unceremoniously pulling your shirt off and looking the wound over he forces you go to A&E, practically marching your ass out the door.

Since he’s basically an escaped criminal he can’t exactly casually walk in the hospital with you, however he will stalk you the entire time, lurking close by to make sure you arrive and leave safely.

Although he usually has his guard up he vows to try be a little less bristly with you from now on if it means he doesn’t have to see you hurt and feel that awful tug of regret/worry in his chest.

Jason voorhees

You went out looking for Jason one night after he hadn’t returned to the cabin by his usual time. You were worried he’d been overpowered by a group of trespassers or caught in a trap and didn’t have any way to communicate that to you. The woods were beautiful but so dense and vast, getting lost or injured in the thick of them may as well be a death sentence.

Whilst searching for your missing partner you get your leg snagged in a bear trap he had set out previously for the trespassers. You howl in pain as you hear the sickening snap of your ankle between the traps jaws.

Jason was trudging his way back to the cabin when he heard it. Knowing that wasn’t a rougue teen as he’d cleared them out already, alarm bells went off in his head. He stormed to scene as fast as he could.

He could have sworn his undead heart stopped for the second time as he saw you sitting there in agony, murky blood seeping into the forest floor.

He rushes to your side and looks frantically between the trap and your teary face, he knows he’s going to have to disengage the traps and for you it’s going to be..less than pleasent.

He signs for you to grip onto his arm for support. Since he’s already dead and regenerates fairly quickly he feels it’s the least he can do to let you grip his arm for dear life as he wrenches the trap from your shattered ankle. If you cause any damage to his arm (which is very unlikely) it will heal up in no time anyway.

Once he’s carried you back to the cabin he’ll be frantically following Pamela’s directions in his head for what to do and how to clean/ wrap it.

If the damage is extensive he’ll relent and let you go to the hospital, only if a trusted friend takes you though, he’ll be sitting by the window of your shared cabin every minute until you return back to him.

You’re no longer aloud to be out in the woods after dark alone if he’s set traps. You both carry whistles now so if he’s not home and you need to know he’s safe you can whistle to each other and feel more at ease.

Billy Lenz

Interacting with Billy when he’s having an episode is never a good idea. You thought it would be fine to just be in the room though, providing you stay out of his way. As you enter, Billy is in the midst of trashing his attic once again, the disgusting feelings bubbling in his chest too much to bear. You enter just as he’s angrily thrown an old glass christmas ornament at the floor that the sorority had kept in storage. It shatters and flecks of sparkling glass scatter along the floor. One piece catching you in the hand in a nasty glass splinter. You swear under your breath and rush off to take care of it.

Billy doesn’t even realise what’s happened until you return to him, him now having exhausted himself and you knowing it’s safe to try do some damage control. You bring him a sandwich and juice knowing he’ll need it after all the energy and tears he just used up.

Your hands touch as he’s accepting the plate from you with a muted “thank you” and he notices the bandage.

Billy essentially bristles up like an angry cat at the idea of someone hurting his piggy and demands to know who did it and what happened.

Once you tell him it was actually from the ornament he feels horrible. He doesn’t even remember it happening with the state he was in.

He snuggles into the crook of your neck and mumbles apologies into your skin.

Billy will place sloppy kisses over it as an apology until you forgive him. (Not exactly hygenic since it’s an open wound but i mean…you’re dating the attic rat)

Brahms Heelshire

When living with Brahms there isn’t usually much to injure yourself on considering the estate is fairly out of the way from the rest of the village. You most likely caught yourself on a pair of sheers. Brahms is being stubborn about you being out of the house and slings the sheers in your general direction from the door frame when you ask for them. You don’t even notice you sliced your hand when catching them until you see a patch of blood soaking through your gardening gloves about ten minutes later.

You come in to grab a tea towel to wrap your bleeding finger in, not really fazed as it’s only a small cut. Brahms was lurking from the window as you tended to the hedges, not wanting to be away from you but not yet brave enough to tempt leaving the house he’s been in all these years.

As soon as he sees it he’s panicking, it’s only a little cut and you’re not concerned in the slightest but to Brahms you may as well have just came in with an arm missing. He’s instantly flittering around you asking if you’re ok and if you need a hospital.

You stifle your laugh at his over the top concern, you find it rather sweet, it’s not his fault he’s a little bit sheltered.

After cleaning the cut and bandaging it, it’s totally fine. If anything Brahms needs more reassuring and coddling than you do to get him to settle.

He apologises a thousand times for his attitude because he knows If he hadn’t been stroppy about you leaving the house and passed the sheers nicely then you wouldn’t have been hurt in the first place. He promises to try be more composed when he starts getting antsy.

He may need some ✨punishment✨ in order to encourage his behaviour change and to feel forgiven.

He begrudgingly lets you back outside to garden after about a week.

Asa Emory

If you’re the pet of Asa then it’s likely that most of your injuries are purposefully given from him and are no mistake. You’re poked and prodded often considering your residency in the collection. Wounds from experiments and correctional punishments when you disobey or refuse to submit are not uncommon at all. So it doesn’t bother him since he inflicted them. This also assures he cleans them with clinical precision. If you were anyone else he would leave the wounds to fester, if you died from a complication then that was just inconvenient. Not you though, you’ve caught his attention and heart. He loves you in his own domineering way.

If the wound was created by him on accident then he would give himself a hard time, chastising himself for his carelessness.

For example, if he had more trouble with law enforcement than he thought and that led to you to spending way more time in the trunk than you usually do, causing you to develop a sore from sitting in one cramped position for too long.

Asa would realise you’re injured once you’re let out of the trunk, hissing in pain as you stretch. He makes you show him where you’re hurting so he can inspect over it.

Despite Asa’s stony face his stomach is actively sinking. He knows you’re hurt because of him and it wasn’t purposeful or measured like it would be during a punishment. He sees this as failure in his pet care and it takes a blow to his god complex. Gods don’t make mistakes, but here he is, hurting his dolly by being so out of it.

He’ll make sure to clean it for you and even stop putting you in the trunk for a while. This does however still mean you’ll be attached to him via leash or chain connected to the ring sitting on his belt. Just because you’re hurt and his favourite toy, doesn’t mean he will except anything less than your complete and total submission.

He’ll be more tender and soft handed with you than usual for a while after. Punishments will be withheld until you heal. Then it’s back to normal routine as expected.

Predator/yautja

You were wearing a new perfume you’d picked up at the market during the day, You were only supposed to be getting meats and maybe a new fur for the bed but once the alien at the stand had convinced you to sample it you fell in love with it.

Your mate picks up on an unknown scent entering the house, hackles raising and stalking towards it. As soon as they catch the heat signature they throw a wrist blade in warning.

Their eyes widen in horror, rushing to the door as they catch scent of your tangly blood dripping onto the hardwood floor of your shared home.

The new perfume masked your familiar scent from them, making them believe the house was in danger and being intruded on. If their face could loose colour it would, cringing as they see the wrist blade sticking through your palm, groceries discarded at the door.

They start talking at you in rapid clicks before they realise you can’t actually understand. After making sure to keep the object in your hand so you don’t bleed out and that you’re not going to pass out on them, they insist on carrying you their medic instead of going to an ooman one.

They argue that their medicine is far more advanced and will heal your wound much more efficiently then your “ primitive ooman medicine”

Thanks to yautja medicine being far more advanced, It will heal like nothing ever happened in around two weeks. The wound stitched shut and given some kind of injection.

Your mate purrs and clicks for you deep from their chest the entire time you’re having the blade removed to try calm you.

They beg for forgiveness despite it literally being an accident and will need some reassurance that they haven’t failed you as a mate. Once you’re all healed up they’ll bring back an impressive skull from a hunt as an apology even if you’ve already forgiven them.

Whilst it’s healing you’re probably going be kept in the nest of furs and pulled tightly against them whilst they purr and sooth you.

My requests are open if you’d like to send any prompts or ideas for me to write!

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITAH for telling my wife no?

My wife (35f) and I (38m) have been married for 12 years, dated for 3 before that. We have 3 kids (10m, 7f, and 5f). We both work full time in separate fields, she does some chemistry thing that I don't understand and I am a manager at a computer repair store my friend runs, and also a short story writer when its slow. She is definitely the breadwinner bill payer between the two of us, but I bring in the fun money for our family and would be completely listless if I didn't at least work part time. We also fully own our home because of her job.

Also, my parents watch the kids for us during the week when we are working. It's been this way since our son was born, and they've been doing it less since they are all in school. But it's free childcare, they refuse to accept money unless it's reimbursing for buying food.

Ok, now that all of that backstory is set, here's where the problem begins.

A couple of months ago my wife started pepper into conversations about a possible promotion coming up that would get her out of the lab and into a more "manage the lab team" position, with less dangerous hours for more pay. Ever since the first time she mentioned it I've been hyping her up and telling her she's a shoo in for the promotion, especially since she's been working there since her masters internship and now she has a PhD.

Last night she told me she was getting word today if she got it! After she left for work this morning I called my boss up and told him I couldn't come in today, and then told my parents the kids were saying with me. We spent the day cleaning the house, drawing congratulations cards, and making a congratulations banner. We also made a couple cards that say sorry and we love you for if she didn't get it. I was working on making her favorite dinner (lobster rolls with lobster bisque, because she's a fancy lady) when she got home earlier than normal. Everyone was surprised, because noone is usually home at this time and yet here everyone was. She got tears in her eyes seeing everything we were still working on, got down and hugged our two youngest, and said she got the promotion! Cheering all around! And that's when she dropped the bomb, saying we need to get a realtor in a state three away from us so we can relocate within the next two months.

I was stunned, and just said no, we arent moving for this promotion. In all of her talks she never mentioned that the promotion wasn't for the same location she's been at. All of our family is here, her parents and mine, all of our friends are here, my job is here. She insisted that she's mentioned relocating before but I swear she never did. That set of a completely new argument about never listening to her and only hearing what I want to hear, and how this will make it so I can stay home with the kids and not even need a fun money job. During this I noticed she was typing on her phone, and when I asked why she was multitasking an argument she said she was texting my parents to get the kids so they don't have to see this.

When my parents got here they congratulated her on the promotion and asked how long until we move.

She told my parents the promotion included relocation.

I'm typing this on the couch in the basement, because I can't face her right now. My parents knowing means she probably did say we would need to move if she got it. I don't want to move, I like my job, and our house. I like being near my parents. I know this would practically set us for life but I don't want to. I know I'm being selfish, and I know I must not be listening when she talks, but I still don't think she should accept the promotion. I still think no.

What are these acronyms?

[writersdrug]

Training for Two

Chapter 2. Rules

Masterlist

Summary: Simon lays the ground rules and shows you around the house.

Warnings: Simon's email etiquette, very mild cursing, beginnings of obsessive behavior.

Sure enough, Simon had emailed you by Tuesday afternoon. You noticed how... unprofessional it was. Not that he had been rude or obscene, but it was obviously written by someone who never had to write many emails for his career.

here is riley's routine. she likes walks, usually 3 or 4 a day. she eats one scoop in the morning and one at night. she doesn't finish her food all at once, but she'll come back to it. if you're gonna give her more cookies, just two per day. fill water every morning. around the house, if you could just dust and clean up any dog hair, that would be great. let me know if meeting me tomorrow at 0900 for the key works. I ship out thursday. thanks.

Simon.

You chewed your thumb nail, reclining on your couch with a confused expression. Was he irritated with you for some reason? He didn't show it at the interview if he did have any hostile feelings... you reminded yourself that he was a rather gruff man, and maybe that just bled into his written words, too. You rolled your shoulders and started working out your reply.

Hello Simon! Tomorrow works perfect for me, I'll be there by 9 am!

Does Riley have any favorite places she likes to go? Any particular spots or trails she enjoys? Also, are there any rules you have for her, like being on the couch? Is she ok going to the dog park? Lastly, does she take any medications I should be aware of?

See you soon!

You sent the message, sighing and dropping your head back against the arm of the sofa. You were honestly thankful that you'd gotten the job, even if Simon was a rather stiff client. You finally quit your shitty job, and while you did still have babysitting your niece and nephew, you never charged for that - the only time you were "paid" for it was when you took them out somewhere fun, and your sister forced you to accept money for the admission fee.

So this gig fell into your lap at the perfect time. And the fact that you had beat every other person Simon had interviewed made your ego soar. It wouldn't be a bad idea to make a career out of this, you thought.

Your phone dinged - you held it above your face, and saw that Simon had already responded. You sat upright and opened the email.

she only takes aspirin when her leg flares up. no more than twice a day. no favorite trails, we just go around the block a few times. she can sit on the couch, my bed too, but she'll need help getting up. no human food is the only other rule. never took her to a dog park, but if you really want to, that's fine. she's good with other dogs.

Simon.

You frowned. Walking the same block every day, multiple times each day, sounded awful. It wasn't even close to animal neglect, but you couldn't imagine walking the same route every single time. If it didn't drive Riley insane, it certainly would for you.

You read back over the email, your eyes lingering on "if her legs flare up." Simon had never discussed Riley having arthritis with you - and you sincerely hoped that was the reason she had leg pain, and nothing else. You made a mental note to ask him about it tomorrow as you began to write your reply.

Understood. Thanks again!

"Here's the basement." Simon said, leading you down the stairs and into a dullish room. It had a cheaply-manufactured desk, what appeared to be a dining chair (not matching the dining set upstairs), a stuffed bookshelf, and some cardboard boxes filled with paper. A fan stood in the far corner, and next to it was the washing room. Much like what he had shown you of the rest of the house, it was bland and drab.

You looked around, letting out a polite noise of approval. Truth be told, Simon's life seemed awfully boring to you. Your mother had always told you that military men were always overly practical, in more than just home decor. They never cared much for the environment around them, as long as there was no mold, or anything similar. But you had never expected it to be so brutally true.

You knew he had a life outside of his home - from the way he described it, he was usually deployed more often than he was in his own home country. But you wondered - what did he do for fun, besides watch the telly? Did he have friends, and were they all like him? Any hobbies?

"If for whatever reason y' need to clean up a stain, you can find solution in there." He said, pointing to the washer room. "Other than that, nothin' much to see down 'ere."

You followed him as he trudged back up the stairs. Riley was sat upright on the floor, watching you and Simon move about the house with an observant expression.

"The only other things I'll ask you to do is hoover n' dust when it looks like it needs it." He said, leaning against the kitchen counter. "There really isn't much else t' do; of course, if you do see anything that needs fixin' you can always text me." He rolled his head from side to side, wincing as he worked out a crick in his neck. "Might not answer immediately, but I'll see it."

You nodded, standing in the walkway of the kitchen. Even with him leaning against the counter, muscles hidden under his sweatshirt, he was huge. For a brief moment, you imagined what he looked like on the field, dressed in his uniform and holding a gun - but you quickly shooed the thought from your mind before it had the chance to latch on and fester. "Gotcha. And just so I know, do you let Riley sleep with you?"

Simon paused in confusion before he responded. "Come again?"

"Like- you know, if I crash on the couch, is she allowed up with me?" You said, shifting your weight. You couldn't quite tell if Simon was irked by your question, or if he was genuinely confused.

He paused again. "Uh, yea, that's fine. If y' don't mind waking up covered in 'er slobber."

You laughed. "Nah, I'm used to it. A little drool never bothered me. Although, if I do need to wash up, am I alright to use the shower? Or would you rather I use my own back at my flat?"

Suddenly, it clicked in Simon's head. You were planning on sleeping at his house.

He had assumed you would just stop by for walks and meals - he didn't expect you to actually live here while he was gone, and he wasn't sure how it made him feel. He'd never had anyone else spend the night. Hell, no one ever visited, besides the rare occasions of the rest of the 141 stopping by. Even then, they never stayed for longer than a conversation or two.

But, once he took a second to think about it, he realized it might be better if you did stay - at least, while he was on missions. Riley would be bored out of her mind if she was alone that long, especially after spending the past several weeks with Simon constantly there. It would be good for someone to be there when he wasn't, and you seemed like you would be the best person for that, of course.

"Sure, 's fine." He said, rubbing the back of his head. "Just don't touch my shit in there."

"Don't worry about that..." You said quietly, "catch me dead and cold before I touch a 3-in-1 anything."

He chuckled and rolled his eyes. It was refreshing that you could handle his gruffness - most people treated him like a landmine, never wanting to say the wrong thing and set him off. You seemed to have taken life by the horns, like you weren't afraid to bite back at someone. He wondered if that was all for show, or if you really would snap back if he was to test you...

He pushed himself off the counter and reached into the drawer behind him, pulling out a spare key. He walked over to you and held it out. You were just about to take it, when he suddenly yanked it back.

You faltered. "Sorry...?"

"You lose this key..." Simon began lowly, "n' I'll frame you for murder. Understood?"

You gaped, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. He didn't really mean that... did he? You waited for him to laugh and say he was just joking... but he never did. His eyes bored into yours so intensely, making you shiver, as he waited for you to answer.

"Y-yes, sir. Understood." You said, voice wavering a bit.

He grunted in satisfaction, then handed you the key. You let out the breath you had been holding, then cautiously took the key, before immediately attaching it to your lanyard. You didn't want to take any chances at losing it - not after Simon's threat. You took a deep breath and smiled at him, trying to dust the exchange off of your shoulders.

"You can come 'round tomorrow after o' nine hundred, I'll be out by then." He said, turning sideways to moce past you and heading towards the door. You followed behind and rubbed Riley's head when you passed her; she let out a contented sound.

"Feel free t' use the kitchen if you'll be stayin' overnight." He opened the door for you and leaned against it.

"Will do, thank you!" You chirped, hovering on the landing outside of his house, right were you were two days ago. "Thank you for showing me around - good luck on your- mission- deployment, thingamajig!"

He huffed. "Promise I will, luv."

Your spine tingled in response to his comment. Get it together, don't get your knickers in a twist over a client. You thought. You straightened your posture and cleared your throat.

"Well, see you around!" You said with a smile, then hopped down the steps to your car.

Simon waved, taking a moment to watch you pull out of his driveway. He shut the door and leaned back against it, exhaling slowly through his nostrils.

He was an observant man - he had to be, with his occupation. Your reaction to being called "luv" didn't fly over his head. And it's not like Simon didn't know the effect he had on women... he knew how he looked, how he presented himself, and he saw the reactions it got him.

But with you, something felt different. He saw your reaction, and a part of him wanted to chase after it. To see what you would do if he continued to apply pressure to your weak spots. Would you blush? Would you call him out? Would you drop the gig altogether?

He thought about how easily the word "sir" had rolled off of your tongue. He thought about how you would look, all tuckered out on his couch, donned in whatever pajamas you decided to wear, your face peaceful and expression soft as you slept - he imagined you in his shower, the room filled with warm steam and the scent of your shampoo, water hitting your skin as you-

Riley barked, making Simon jolt where he stood. She stared at him, ears turned to the side as she whined. She could always tell when he began to dissociate, and knew just as much as he did that it wasn't a good sign.

Simon sighed, running a hand down his face. "Get it together, fuckin' creep." He muttered to himself. "I need a bloody hobby, f' Christ's sake..."

He blamed it on the upcoming mission. He would typically stress about it beforehand, and if there was anything else that could occupy his mind, he would fixate on it. Right now, unfortunately, you were the victim. But he buried it deep down into his subconscious - it wasn't fair to you.

He pushed himself off of the door and headed towards the washroom, adjusting his crotch as he went. He figured he should at least tidy it up a bit, since you would be using it. The only other people who had been in there were Johnny and Captain Price, and of course, they never cared if there were trimmers on the counter, or if the mirror had splotches from toothpaste residue.

Hopefully, he'd forget all about you - at least, while he was on the mission.

Next ->

Taglist: @my-queen-rhaenyra-targaryen @jisungswiftie @sweet-tooth4you @kennyis-aloser @hyyyxr @lahniu @dory-98 @naradae

[abbysbug]

— violent nature

pairing : dark!ellie x fem!reader

summary/request : Ok expansion pack: reader is leaving Ellie because of her violent nature for like the 3rd time, but Ellie tracks her and thinks a little rough sex is all she needs to fix reader's attitude, despite reader wanting out

content : noncon, stalking (kinda), breaking skin, bleeding, gun threats, degradation, fingering, clit rubbing, manipulation, overstimulation, finger sucking, cum eating.

note : this fanfic is pure fantasy and i do not encourage this behaviour happening inrl.

masterlist | discord

Your heart beat violently in your chest and your legs burned with each movement, but you couldn't stop running; you had to get as far away as possible.

You hadn't planned on leaving Jackson, but after multiple arguments with Ellie, you had to go.

Your face still stung from her slap and your bruised body ached.

You didn't take many things. Just enough food and water to keep you going until you found a shelter, and your gun, which you kept tucked in your pants.

It took you two days to find shelter. It was an abandoned neighbourhood that would have been swept through in the early days. The house you camped in had broken windows, doors, and furniture. But, there was a basement that would keep you warm throughout the night.

You felt safe there.

Until the sixth day.

You woke to the sound of a gunshot and a loud muffled cry. The person was close.

You reached for your gun and made your way out of the basement. You silently crept around the house, peering outside but couldn't see anyone.

You swallowed roughly and licked your lips.

They've probably moved on.

You turned around to make your way back to the basement but were met with a gun pointed at your face.

With Ellie's gun being pointed at your face.

Your immediate thought was to run, but your feet stayed glued to the ground. All you could do was pathetically stare at her with fear-stricken eyes.

Ellie chuckled.

"Did you miss me, baby?"

Ellie didn't give you time to respond. Her palm roughly met your cheek and she grabbed onto your throat, shoving you into the wall. You cried out and your gun was knocked out of your hand.

You tried to fight back and clawed at Ellie's hand. She ignored you, keeping her hand wrapped around your throat and her other on your hip, keeping you pinned.

"Little fuckin' bitch." She snarled as you broke her skin.

You kicked her in the leg and Ellie grunted. She threw you to the ground and straddled your waist, pinning your arms above your head.

"Why are you like this?" You wiggled relentlessly under Ellie.

Ellie sighed, leaned down, and kissed your neck "Because I love you."

She slowly shed your clothes, kissing every inch of your bare body. You didn't bother resisting her. She was too strong.

"If you try to run." Ellie used her thumb to wipe your tears away "I'll shoot you."

You nodded and stayed quiet.

Ellie released your arms and moved to lay between your thighs. She placed a soft kiss on your clit and two fingers propped at your hole. You shuddered as she slipped inside and her thumb rubbed your clit.

Ellie has memorised your body like the back of her hand. She knows what places make you scream and what places hurt. She knows how to force you over that pleasurable edge or keep you from it.

You whined, rutting your hips into Ellie's palm. It was pathetic how quickly Ellie made you chase that pleasure. She followed you for 6 days and once she finally found you, she threatened to kill you.

Now, you lay on the floor of an abandoned house letting her fuck you dumb.

A guttered moan escaped your lips as Ellie replaced her thumb with her lips, sucking and licking at your clit.

You clenched around her fingers and covered your moan, embarrassed by your loud moans. Your fingers threaded through Ellie's hair, pulling her closer to your cunt.

"You getting close, baby?" Ellie mumbled around your clit, vibrations going through your body.

Your words got stuck on your tongue as your orgasm washed over. Your back was arched and your toes curled. Your vision speckled white and you whimpered.

Overstimulation came quickly and you had to push Ellie's head away to stop her.

She chuckled and climbed back up your body. She pushed her slick-covered fingers against your lips and you opened. You both moaned as you sucked her fingers clean.

Ellie cupped your cheek and kissed you softly.

"You gotta stop running, sweet girl."

You swallowed roughly and nodded your head, whispering out.

"Okay."

-

a/n: so i would honestly make this darker but i know this fandom doesn't really like dark fics and i don't wanna be cancelled sooo :p

@ashandsweets @mystellenia

[morose-melodies]

i need dottore,tartaglia,pantalone and capitano(those were in my mind for a while and its killing me) with a reader who always tries to escape.using different tactics each time but always ends up failing.and one day,the reader hads enough and snaps "if you didnt take away and acted like a normal person from the start,i could have loved you"

İf you dont want to or dont feel like writing,thats ok👍

failing attempts | various! yandere! harbingers x reader

CAPITANO

this was escape attempt five.

you truly were optimistic, but capitano wouldn't let you leave him so easily.

your escape attempts seemed to be getting more and more desperate and, therefore, more dangerous to you.

you had attempted to jump out of a window the night before, just as he was arriving home from a mission. the sheer terror he felt as he watched you lean out of the second-floor window was insurmountable.

now, not only was the front door locked shut from the outside, but the windows were now barricaded too. you were a danger to yourself.

and all capitano ever wanted was for you to be safe and with him. was that too much to ask for? was that so terribly wrong of him?

the captain didn't want to take extreme measures to keep you home; he didn't want to lock you in a room, nor did he want to tie you down. he wasn't the sort. He just wanted you to stay without any excessive force.

but you were pushing him into a corner.

this morning, you had darted out of the backdoor, still in your pajamas and without shoes, into the cold.

you didn't make it far at all. you had barely made it over the garden fence, and you were stumbling now.

the captain... sighed as he followed after you. it wasn't an extreme chase; you hadn't even tried to fight back as usual when he caught you; you just stumbled on about something incomprehensible as he wrapped you up into his coat and lifted you into his arms.

"that was terribly immature of you," looking down at you, the captain felt sorry for you, "I would like it if you would stay home but if you plan on leaving, please do wear proper clothing next time. i can not bear the thought of you dying out in the cold."

"if you didn't take me away," at this point, perhaps death was better than being stuck with him, "and if you acted like a normal person," but, you wanted to go home - you wanted to be with your family, "I could've loved you."

capitano's mind blanked. he had given you a chance to come with him freely; he had been kind to you, so were you not lying?

it didn't matter now, did it? "(y/n), you do understand you've caused all this trouble, correct? should you have been a bit more understanding, you wouldn't be in this situation. i love you. Is that not obvious? i only want to see you thrive and to be happy."

he was at the point of no return; he could only go backward from here.

DOTTORE

to take time out of dottore's day, to make him leave the manor to come find you for what seemed like the millionth time - he was admittedly quite frustrated with you.

he found you hanging from the gate, your coat caught on the spike of it.

he grinned - this was a funny sight, but, at the same time, it wasn't funny at all. he was actually very disappointed in you.

dottore approached the gate, standing behind you, "tell me just how long have you been hanging here for?"

your nose was running, and you looked absolutely defeated. when you don't reply, dottore clicks his tongue, shaking his head, "Would your life not be simpler if you just accepted your situation? This is such a pitiful sight, (y/n)."

dottore unlocked the gate and walked outside of him, and he helped you down and brushed off the snow that piled on your coat.

"let's go, (y/n)," dottore grabbed your forearm and prepared to pull you back towards the manor, "I've had enough of your antics - perhaps a night or two in the basement would do you well."

"no-" you tugged back, attempting to free your arm from his grip, "stop it! you make me s-so sick! just let me go!"

"(y/n), please. you've done nothing be give me grief," dottore sighed, tugging you along with him, "I don't understand why you feel that being stubborn will get you anywhere."

"you... don't understand?" you grumbled, digging your feet into the snow, trying to pull your weight, trying to stop dottore from getting you back inside, "you're kidding me! i hate you! You're disgusting and unlovable!"

"(y/n), lower your voice - I'm exhausted and you're giving me a migraine," dottore sighed, stopping and getting a better hold on your arm before tugging you along once more.

"if you have yet to notice, I'm quite content with just having you near. i don't exactly need your love to make me feel any better than i do now. hm, that's the sort of effect you have on me."

you went quiet and dottore assumed you had worn yourself out. he brought you inside and sat you down in front of the fireplace, his hand rubbing circles on your shoulder.

"I could've loved you... maybe if you hadn't taken me away..." you trailed off, holding your hands in front of the fire. Why did he continue to act as if he cared for you? "maybe, um, if you were normal, I could've loved you."

dottore smiled at you, though you couldn't see it, "whether you love me or not is trivial - i have you, (y/n), and that's what I need. you, (y/n), you're all I need."

PANTALONE

pantalone was above getting dirty.

it was nothing personal. he'd do just about anything else for you! he just couldn't imagine himself running around late at night trying to find you.

what was the point when he had other fatuus to do such things for him? they have yet to fail him.

so, while you were out, trying to leave pantalone as multiple fatuus' chased after you, pantalone was running you a warm bath and set a pair of clean clothes out for you.

he knew you'd come back filthy. You always did.

he wondered what he could do to keep you home. He wasn't one for forceful methods; he would hate to hurt you. you were his pride and joy.

pantalone would sigh deeply, dipping his hand into the bathwater to make sure it was still warm.

you never wanted anything from pantalone... well, except for that one time, you asked for a can of soup, but then you used it to smash the bathroom window open and jumped out...

that didn't exactly count.

he heard the front door open and knew you were being dragged in now. the guards weren't gentlemen, quite the contrary, in truth.

you always looked so sad and defeated after the caught you.

"oh, (y/n)," pantalone held a hand to his chest as he stood from where he kneeled at the side of the tub, he stepped forward and wanted to embrace you but you were a mess, "you're a mess."

he frowned at you, as the guards released you and shut the bathroom door behind them as they left. "you must be cold, oh dear," his heart ached for you, such a pitiful sight you were.

you were so lucky that he loved you.

he attempted to remove your top, but you tensed, making it hard for him, "do-don't touch me."

"but you're filthy," pantalone reasoned, once again trying to remove your top but you wouldn't budge, "(y/n), I'm doing this because I love you so very much. please, don't make this hard."

"I don't-" you stepped back, shaking your head at him, "I don't want your help. g-get out, just leave."

pantalone's lips pressed into a thin line as he stared at you, "what's the matter? i-i'm not mad at you, not at all. I understand that i must be lacking something-"

"get out! my gosh, wh-what's with you!? just leave!"

"(y/n)..."

"get out! get out! leave!"

"please, calm down. let me help you undress, alright? You're in a bad mood, i get it. That's no excuse to be rude to someone who loves you dearly," pantalone spoke to you as if he were your mother.

he reached forward and tugged off your shirt with extra force; it wasn't much force; it was just in case you were prepared to tense up again!

"there we go," pantalone cooed as he eased you into the warm bath. he washed your hair for you, making sure to scrub extra hard to get the muck out of your hair.

it was, in a way, soothing...

if only...

"if you hadn't... taken me away and, um," you sniffled, raising your hand to wipe at your nose, "if you were normal... i could've loved you."

instead of offending, that pleased pantalone. what he was hearing was 'you liked him for who he was' and there was nothing better than hearing that.

hm, if only he hadn't taken you away.

"that is the kindest thing you've ever said to me," pantalone smiled, "thank you, (y/n)."

CHILDE

it was a sort of game to childe at this point.

how many times could you attempt to escape this week? how many times would you curse him to hell? how many times would you glare at him today?

he had to find humor in it, or else, he'd lose his mind. after all, there was no easy way to cope with the love of his life hating his guts.

in truth, he had been a bit overbearing the past few days - there was a snowstorm outside and he couldn't allow you to be out in that sort of weather alone.

so, as he stared out the window, looking at the rapidly falling snow, all he could think about was if only something was different. perhaps if the two of you were childhood sweethearts, maybe if the two of you had met before he fell into the abyss, or maybe if the two of you were neighbors.

he, at one point, had gotten so desperate to keep you home that he bent to your will - anything you asked, he did. you never really asked much of him, though...

well, unless telling him to go away was a question.

he was so busy thinking of all the "what ifs" that he didn't notice you running past the window and into the snowy woods.

well, he did, but it just didn't click for him at the moment.

and when it did click? he was out the door, tugging his coat on, not even bothering to shut it behind himself.

"c'mon, (y/n), now is not the time for this!" he called out, watching as you ran around a tree and seemingly "disappeared."

he knew you too well. you expected him to run around the tree to look for you, but he wouldn't; he watched as you emerged from the other side of the tree and pulled you into his open arms.

you can't use the same trick twice on him.

he held you against his chest - he didn't mind that you were nudging at his chest, trying to get away from him. "c'mon, it's pretty cold out here. I'll make you tea when we get back inside."

"no! im not going back!" you nudged harder at his chest, trying to get out of his hold.

"I said we're going back in. we really need to talk ab-"

"there's nothing to talk about! you're not normal and i won't love you!"

he thought had heard it all from you, so, hearing this wasn't anything new, but, what was new was hearing you say:

"if you wanted me to love you, maybe you should've been normal," you paused, and childe's hold on you loosened, his arms going slack at his sides and he looked down at you, "if you didn't take me away... and maybe if you acted like a normal person from the start-"

once again, you paused and took a step back away from him. childe didn't want to hear what you were going to say, even as he imagined what you might say, his chest ached... he wouldn't be able to handle it, "(y/n), let's just go in, okay? i don't want to hear it from you."

"- i could've loved you."

oh, it hurt so badly.

childe tried so hard to be unbothered, so, why was he so hurt from hearing this? he loved you, and he's tried everything to make you understand just how much he loved you, and now you say that you'll never love him.

it hurt, of course, but he's come so far.

childe strongly believes that people can change, anyway. so, he'd keep trying his absolute hardest for you until you buckled and confessed that you loved him back.

but, in the meantime...

"you can still love me," he said, with a weak smile, "I've been good to you, (y/n) and I think I deserve some credit for being so patient, right?"

[vetitiscripta]

Can you do sfw and nsfw headcanons for btd 2 ren? I love him so much he’s my underrated short king🦊

btd2 ren my beloved. ask and you shall receive anon (i might add more to this later but this is what i have for now)

sfw

this man is the clingiest motherfucker ever. in the beginning, you can't walk from room to room without ren being on your heels. it was a new experience for him and he wanted to know all about you! now, though, his clinginess comes in the form of holding you too tightly when laying with you, tracing his name onto your skin with his finger, and telling you how much he loves you about 20 times a day. it's suffocating to be honest, but you would rather ren be clingy than be mad

speaking of mad, he doesn't get mad at you often. you've learned well enough in your time with him that making him mad was not a fun thing to do. ren may be small but he knows how to fight or to at least knock you down enough to remind you who’s really in charge. but there's not really a need for that nowadays since you are so well behaved! he makes comments all the time of you two being the ideal relationship (you find yourself agreeing with him sometimes. maybe he's not so bad after all)

loves taking baths with you. it's probably the thing he looks forward to the most. there's just something so intimate about it that he loves so much. maybe it's the scented soaps and shampoos going to his head or the heat of the water. maybe its the way you fit so nicely against him and he gets to hold you close (there's not enough room, don't look at him like that!). sometimes he can convince you to let him wash your hair and the way you look at him as he's running his fingers through your hair is enough to make him die from happiness

50/50 on being the big spoon or little spoon. there are days where he wants nothing more than to hold you, face buried in your neck as his tail lays over you like a blanket. but there are also days where he wants to be held himself. those tend to be the days where everything floods back to him, the memories of when he was in your shoes. sometimes he just needs a reminder that he's okay now, that he's better now ("better")

he likes to win your affection with little things here and there. small things he picks up for you while out, letting you choose what anime to watch that night, but his go to is to cook for you. we can't deny that ren is an amazing cook and he knows it. you cook as well, but ren tends to cook most nights. he likes cooking and he loves it when you help him. but if he's trying to woo you (or to maybe erase some anger you feel towards him) he'll whip up your favorite meal and maybe even light a few candles

JEALOUS OF LITERALLY ANYTHING! showing more attention to the plant he got you last week? it mysteriously dies a few days later (he poured glass cleaner into its pot). mentioned liking a specific actor/actress from a show? the tv has parental locks the next day to restrict that show. all your attention belongs to him and should be on him! nothing else! (sometimes you find it cute how jealous he gets and will go out of your way to make him jealous, but don't tell him that)

he's still trying to find his place in this entire thing. strade's gone now, but ren can't deny that he feels like he's missing something. like there's a gaping hole in his chest that's longing to be filled. you filled that hole, but you don’t fit it perfectly, there are still gaps here and there. because of this, he's not afraid to experiment on you. you wake up in the basement more than you would like, ren looming over you with a smile on his face but an almost empty look in his eyes. he's thinking, calculating what he'll do. the sessions always end with tears streaming down your face and ren understanding a little better where he fits in

nsfw (under the cut)

horny 24/7. cannot keep his hands to himself. you'll be watching tv together and then ren's hand is on your thigh- ok normal enough. and then it starts moving slowly upwards and your breath hitches when his hand finds the waistband of your pants. he teases you first, messing with the band and drawstrings, nails grazing the skin just below the band. he's not even looking at you, or at least you don't notice the sneaky glances he throws your way before turning back to the tv. but that doesn't last long as he can't take it anymore himself and throws himself at you right there on the couch

ren's big on eye contact. he wants you to watch him as he goes down on you. if you look away or close your eyes, his nails dig into your thighs hard enough for little beads of red to form. your attention belongs on him at all times, especially when sharing an intimate act. he expects you to keep eye contact when you go down on him as well. he doesn't care if his cock is in your throat and you're trying not to gag. he'll pull your hair hard enough for tears to form in your eyes

likes to roleplay every so often. his favorites are anime specific ones and maid/master. he loves it when you dress up for him, especially if it's in these big, frilly dresses or skirts (doesn't matter your gender, he loves to see it). he likes having you pretend to do something, only for him to come up behind you, sneak his hands under your skirts and mess with you. likes taking your attention away from your task and putting it on him

ren hates having to punish you but he loves the act of it. when he punishes you, he gets to do whatever he wants! punishments tend to be in the basement and he tends to get just a little heated every so often with them. your tear streaked face just does something to him and most of the time punishments end with his cock either in your mouth or with him fucking you

doesn't shut up while having sex. if he's not whimpering then he's moaning in your ear. if he's not moaning then he's talking to you, telling you how good you are, how great you feel. if he's not talking than he's whimpering

[gatorlovebot]

nsfw. mdni. this is self indulgent but its my right as a 20 something who is getting ready to move out on their own for the first time to write about landlord john price ok <3

landlord price who buys a nice looking duplex in the city and fixes it up himself. lives in the top floor because he doesn’t need much space to himself and rents out the bottom unit. so far it had mostly been couples or smaller familes renting out the bottom unit, until you came along.

you, who had been saving money to rent something nice for yourself, something with a little extra space. the two bedroom downstairs unit is perfect for you, but you have pretty mixed feelings about your landlord living right above you. until you actually meet him.

upon moving in your greeted by the warm accent of john price. his eyes crinkle when he smiles at you and you can pick out grey hairs in his full beard. it’s so cliche, feeling butterflies for an older man whose kind to you but what are you supposed to do when he offers to help you bring in boxes, muscly arms on full display?

he allows you time and space to get settled in, with a promise of, “i’m just upstairs if you ever need anything.”

you don’t see him for the next few days until there’s a knock at your door and its him, looking soft and sweet in a grey henley, just in time for the colder fall weather. “would you care to join me for dinner? i tried a new soup recipe and seems like a i have enough to feed a small army.”

and that’s how you end up in his space for the first time. it’s tiday yet lived in. furniture dark and worn. you can tell a man lives here. dinner is nice, soup rich and filling. but john makes it so much better. effortlessly making you laugh with his bad jokes and stories. he’s warm and personable. your little crush grows when he walks you back downstairs to your unit when the sun goes down. you find yourself struggling to go inside to your empty apartment.

some days you see him and some days you don’t. your work schedule is consistent but you can’t get a read on his schedule, coming and going unpredicatably. life of a retiree, you think.

sometimes you catch him when you’ve come home from work. usually you’re thrilled to see him, an immediate smile stretching across your face and a blush on your cheeks as soon as you see his smile and hear his voice.

sometimes you curse his presence. like now, when you can’t even wait until you get inside your place before the tears start to fall. and of course john has to be in the front yard racking up leaves. you try to give a polite hello and walk up the steps inside, but john price can already read you like a book.

he’s pulling you into his chest before you even know it, big, solid arms wrapped around your shoulders holding you snug to him. “what’s got you so upset, huh?”

and you let the tears fall in earnest, feeling safe and secure with john. “work…just fucking sucks.”

“oh you poor thing,” he coos before gathering you up in his arms and leading you up to his place. he brews some tea as you sink into his couch, the leather warm and soft underneath you. once the teas done, he settles next to you and let’s you warble on about how unsupportive your work environment is and how your boss never follows through on his promises. he mostly just lets you talk, letting out an occasional hum in affirmation. that night he’s not very talkative, he’s much more tactile. running his hands up and down your arms, rubbing the tension from your shoulders and back as he allows you to lean on him until you’re practically in his lap. you’ve exhausted yourself crying and he thanks you for being so vulnerable with him and tells you that even though you don’t deserve all the bullshit at your job, you’re such a brave girl for fighting through it.

things continue to get more and more comfortable between you two. you would almost go as far as to say you would consider him a friend. you do still sometimes have awkward moments though. like when you go down to the basement to change your laundry from the washer to the dryer and you find him already placing your garments in. “oh sorry,” he says, flustered, a tinge of pink dusting his cheeks at being caught. “i spilt some paint on myself earlier while touching up the trim outside and really needed to get some stuff in the washer. i was going to message you asking if all this stuff could go in the dryer.”

he’s so thoughtful, you think. “yeah, it can all go in. thanks, john!”

hours later when you’re finally putting away your clean laundry you realize some of your panties are missing. oh well, its an older dryer, must have eaten them.

its months layer when your stomach drops as you read a text from john asking if you could come upstairs later tonight, there was something he needed to talk to you about. you feel a flash of panic, his text sounding serious. did you do something wrong? you had just seen him the previous day and everything between you seemed fine. you thought you were a great renter, but now you weren’t so sure.

you make your way up to his place and he greets you at the door, usual soft smile on his face.

“i just wanted to get something out in the open,” he starts as you both take a seat on the couch. “i’ve noticed an odor coming from downstairs late at night.”

for a moment you have no idea what he could be talking about, an odor, you think and then it hits you. your late night smoke sessions. “oh, yeah.” it dawns on you. “i’m so sorry about that.”

“no, no, it’s fine.” he reassures, “i would be a bit of a hypocrite myself to be honest, i smoke cigars constantly. try to keep it to just the back balcony but sometimes i break my own rules.”

“yeah, i don’t do it in the apartment because that would be rude, but,” you wince, “sometimes i get a little too lazy to go outside so i just do it out my bedroom window.”

“ah, no worries, dear. just wanted to let you know that i know.”

with your panic subsiding you feel a little bold, “would you like to smoke a little, john?”

“if you’re offering, i’ll be on the balcony.”

you would have never imagined sharing a joint with john would lead you here. in his lap, legs splayed open with your pants around your ankles. listening to the wet sounds of your pussy as he dips his big fingers inside you, hitting all the right spots. your brain is floaty and your limbs feel weightless against his big body that surrounds yours.

there’s a constant stream of nonsense and whimpers that leaves your lips as you dumbly watch him pet your swollen clit. but its the filth from his mouth that really gets you. “such a pretty little thing fo’ me, huh?”

“this little cunt ‘s all mine, right?”

“i’ve been thinking about touching you like this since the day you moved in.”

“cum on my fingers, sweet girl, i know you want to.”

and you do, clenching around his fingers as you keen and moan through it. there’s a whispered, “good girl,” deep and gravelly in your ear before you’re being lifted into john’s arms as he carries you back inside, to his bedroom.

[mountainsandmayhem]

Shhh...Just A Little Bit More

Part Three (Spicy Version)

DBF!Joel x Female!Reader - 18+

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 (Soft Version)

Summary: Joel Miller caught you working where you shouldn't be after you promised to quit. Now he's taking matters into his own hands. Word Count 5.7k

CW: DBF!, Dom!, SoftDom!, use of nicknames (baby, sweet pea, baby girl etc.), Sub/Dom, DD/LG, use of toys and a riding crop. no use of y/n. no description of reader except for piercings. Praise, degradation. After care.

AN: THANK YOU for all your love on parts 1 and 2. This is the spicy version of the third part. I'd love to hear which part you liked best!

“Hey, buddy. It’s Joel.”

“Joel?” You can hear your dad’s muffled and panicked voice through the receiver. “Where’s my daughter? Why do you have her phone? It’s 5 am!” 

“Remember that time Sarah ran away to your house and you told me that one day I might be doing the same for you?” 

Your dad is silent for a while, a distorted higher pitched voice filters through before you hear your dad again, “It’s alright honey. She’s with Joel.” He lets out a deep sigh before adding, “I thought we skipped the rebellious phase with her.”

“She’s a good girl. I think she just needs some time to cool off.” Joel says, his voice is friendly and light.

You squeeze your thighs together and nuzzle deeper into Joel’s throat. You know what you need, and it isn’t to cool off. He and your dad have been friends since the day he moved in down the street. You were seven and Sarah was eleven, you thought she was the coolest person on the planet. Wonder what she’d think of you now, cuddled up against her dad after he just edged the fuck out of you after spanking you in an alleyway. You’re lost in your thoughts as Joel talks with your parents for a while.

A sane person would stop being so turned on right now. Fuck, I need Joel. So badly. Maybe I should rile him up some more. 

“I’ll come by this afternoon,” Joel hugs you tighter, bringing you back to the conversation. “Ya, if she wants to, I’ll bring her. She’s ok, just never seen her more - frustrated.” 

You squeeze his side, knowing he’s smirking about how frustrated and needy you truly are right now. He hangs up the phone and brings his lips to yours, kissing you harder this time. You moan into his mouth, hands roaming up his body to tangle in his hair. 

Holy shit, Joel Miller is kissing me. 

As you run your nails along his scalp he lets out a pleasurable sounding gasp and a small shiver racks his body. Oh, he likes that, he likes that very much. 

Got ya, you think to yourself. 

He pulls away to see you smiling at him. “This is why I usually tie naughty girls down,” his voice is completely different from how it was just moments ago; deeper and more commanding. It reverberates through you - right to your pussy. “Because they think they’ve found spots that will get them what they want. Let’s go home now, darlin’.” 

The front door hasn’t even closed before Joel is hoisting you over his shoulder roughly, kicking the door closed as you squeal, his calloused hands gripping the back of your thighs as your stomach rests across his broad shoulder. 

Fuck his ass looks good from this angle. 

“You know I’m not done punishing you yet, right?” He growls, toeing off his boots and taking you to the basement. 

When Sarah was old enough, she’d occasionally babysit you. You remember there being a locked room in the basement, she said she didn’t know what was in there, but you were obsessed with finding out. You asked Joel mercilessly what he was hiding back there and he never responded in more than a grunt or a sarcastic comment like “that’s where I lock up kids who don’t shut up.” 

Joel grabs a key off the holder at the bottom of the stairs and heads straight for that mysterious locked door. The key scrapes against the door knob, you crane your neck to see as he flicks on the light. 

Holy. Fucking. Shitballs. Joel Miller has a sex room. 

“Watch your mouth,” he grumbles as he drops you onto the large metal framed bed. 

Did I say that out loud? 

He stalks away from you towards a large black cabinet, rolling the sleeves of his button up flannel to his elbows. It’s almost concerning how much that simple action turns you on. Maybe you should go back to church, your mom would be so proud. 

You’re intrigued to look around, curious as to what else is around you in this large room, but everything about Joel’s presence draws you in. Freezes you in time. You belong to him, or so he implied when he said he was your Dom now. 

He slides the door of the large black cabinet open just enough to reach in. Your curiosity is bubbling to the surface and just as you’re about to ask he looks at you darkly. 

“Did you come on the drive home?”

Every bump on the drive home had you twitching. You tried your hardest not to gasp and moan but the combination of the gravel road, your insane state of heightened arousal, and the lack of underwear in your stiff denim shorts were all working against you. 

“No, Joel.” Your eyes dance around his hands, trying to see what he took out of the cabinet. 

His jaw flexes, “It’s Mr Miller. Not Joel.” His chin juts towards the corner of the room across from him as he says, “go kneel in that corner. Face the wall and don’t move.” 

You practically leap off the bed and scramble to the corner as Joel mumbles, “So fuckin’ eager,” under his breath. 

On your way to the corner you see all sorts of ropes, chains, paddles and whips hanging from the walls. There's a large wooden x with cuffs leaning against another wall and beside the corner he’s told you to go to there’s a strange looking bench, almost like a gymnastics horse, that also has cuffs. You might be way in over your head here. 

You kneel down in the corner, the carpet is soft and luxurious under your knees as you rest your bum down onto your heels. 

“No, on your knees. Hands above your head on the wall.” Joel barks, making you jump and your pussy flutter. Joel opens and closes some more doors, you hear things being moved around and just as your hands start to go numb above you, you feel his heat at your back. 

“I’m going to finish your punishment now little one,” he rasps. “Have you ever been a sub before?” 

“N-no. Mr Miller. I’m sorry,” you voice trembles. Nervous and excited energy are battling inside you for first place. 

“Don’t be sorry, babygirl. What do you say if you want me to stop?” His strong hands grip your hair, gathering it up in a low ponytail before tying a long ribbon around it. 

“Umm..” you rack your brain. Before his sadistic little countdown he told you to say something if you wanted to stop.

“Cowboy,” you finally say, slightly uncertain until he hums a sultry ‘that’s right’ behind you, his hands grabbing the hem of your shirt before pulling it up and over your head. 

The cool basement air hits your exposed skin and you find yourself arching your back towards Joel’s warm body. Your nipples turn to stiff peaks at the combination of the temperature shift and the anticipation of what’s coming next. 

Your hands fall back to your sides as your shirt glides past your fingertips. Without missing a beat, Joel hits right below your shoulder blade gently with a riding crop. The sound of the soft black leather end against your skin is louder than the pain, but it still burns slightly as you gasp and your arms fly back up to the wall.

“Don’t be stupid, baby. The more you don’t listen, the more I will hurt you. And you are already here because you didn’t listen.” He trails the riding crop around the pink mark forming on your back. “Stand up, but keep your hands above you.” 

You plant one white slip-on van on the carpet and drag the toe of the other as you stand, hands sliding up the red satin wallpaper that lines the room. The soft leather of the crop traces down the black strap of your lace bra, across the back band and then up the other strap. 

“Use one hand and undo the clasp, sweet pea.” You drop your right hand and bring it behind your back. Popping the metal clasp open with a shaky thumb and forefinger. Before you can put your hand back, Joel grabs your wrist and places the crop in your fist before raising it back up above you. His rough fingers graze your back, goosebumps line your skin as your head falls forward and you hum out in pleasure. 

His hands glide around to the front of your body and trail up, pushing under the cups of your bra to squeeze your tits. He stops dead as they land heavy in his palms. 

“Holy fuck, drop the crop and take this bra off right now. Let me see them,” his voice is thick with arousal at what he’s found. 

You do as he says, the crop hitting the soft carpet with a thud. You spin and let your bra fall from your arms. Showing him the golden barbells, and the thin golden hearts that surround each nipple. 

Joel practically snarls as he dives in to kiss you, his tongue parting your lips and making room for him to devour you. “Are those healed?” He asks through the kiss. 

“They’re sort of new,” you say into his mouth. “Six weeks ago.” 

“Fuuuuck, you’re gonna kill me,” his hands hurry to the buttons on your shorts. He rips them down your legs, kneeling in front of you to slide off your shoes. His face is now level with your achy cunt. It’s been throbbing since he spanked you and now he’s so very close. 

He stops to stare at it, then gently uses his thumbs to pull your soaked lips again. He clicks his tongue, “too bad you didn’t listen. She looks swollen and sooo wet,” his thumb barely grazes the wet flesh before he looks up at you as he sucks off the juices. “Mmm - and sweet. But bad girls don’t get rewards.” He lays a quick slap across your clit and you nearly collapse at the sensation. 

The pain. 

The heat. 

The pleasure. 

He smirks down at you as he stands. You crane your neck to look at him, gasping for breath as the pleasure ebbs between your legs. 

“You like pain, don’t you?” He asks. 

A sly closed lip smile crosses your face as you nod quietly. You do like pain, but you’ve never had someone as experienced as Joel before. He spanked you harder than you ever have been before, pushing and testing your limits. While you enjoyed it, and can’t fucking wait to do it again, you aren’t sure if you can handle all these whips, crops, canes and ropes. 

Cowboy. Just say cowboy. 

He steps away, leaving you completely bare in the corner. He stops at the foot of the bed, the things he’s pulled out of the cabinet rest flat on top of the sheets but you can’t make out what’s there. He slides his flannel off and drops it to the floor. You swallow hard at the way his tight shirt hugs his body, you swear you can see every muscle that lines his chest and abdomen through it. He doesn’t leave you guessing for long, one hand reaching behind himself, grabbing his shirt by the nape of the neck before peeling it from his hard body. You squeeze your thighs at the sight of him. 

Joel Miller: Greek God. 

He leans against the tall post at the foot of the bed, crossing his thick arms over his chest. His biceps bulge and suddenly you find it hard to breathe. He is fucking beautiful. 

“Crawl to me, and bring the crop,” his voice is rough as he commands you. 

You get onto your hands and knees and look over at the crop and then back towards Joel, looking up through your lashes. “Think about it for a second,” he says. 

You bend down and pick the crop up with your teeth. “There’s my smart girl,” he praises as you crawl. You’re so wet that your thighs slide effortlessly against one another. You stop in front of him and he reaches down to tilt your chin up to meet his gaze. He’s looking at you with an immense sense of pride, you’d do anything to have him look at you like that and when he throws in a warm ‘good girl’ you’re done for. His. His brat. His good girl. His submissive. Just his. 

He takes the crop from your teeth and then walks behind you. “Arch your back,” he presses the leather end into your lower back, guiding you, teasing you, showing you what he wants and how he wants it. 

“Spread your legs, babygirl,” he whispers, again gently pressing the crop to your inner thighs as you spread for him before he slowly drags the soft leather from your clit to your backside. You whimper at the much needed attention. “Good girl. See how much better it is when you listen.” 

You relax your head, letting it fall as you moan. Close. So very close. The leather meets your chin next. “Eyes up, I need you to stay like this for me. Ok?” 

“Yes Mr Miller,” you gasp, holding your head high, looking straight ahead at the metal bed frame that’s lined with hooks and rings. “Anything for you.” 

The riding crop trails down your neck and spine as he walks back behind you. “That right, darlin’?” He says, almost afraid to admit how much those three little words have affected him. You. Offering him anything. 

You let out an agreeable moan before he strikes you twice, each snap of the crop hitting the exactly same spot. 

Joel Miller: Greek God and Accurate Riding Crop Sniper.  

Ok, you’ll have to work on the name. 

The sting takes a bit longer to turn into that pleasurable tingly heat that you love than when he spanked you. Keeping your back arched and head up is already proving to be a challenge, and then he traces your cunt and asshole again with the leather and you’re practically shaking. Closer. Much closer. 

He does it again. Striking one cheek, then the other, quickly followed by a quick slap to the back of your thigh. You cry out in pain, until the leather slides over your soaked clit and the sounds turn downright pornographic. 

“Why am I punishing you?” He demands, tapping your clit lightly and rapidly. 

“I - mmmm - I didn’t q-quit,” you moan. 

“Wrong,” he hits you again. Five quick, sharp snaps, alternating between ass cheeks. Then he slides up and down your folds again. 

Pain

Pleasure.

Sparkling burning heat. 

“M’gonna come,” you mumble and Joel pulls away. You cry out in protest as he lowers himself to the floor, a large warm hand gently rubbing your sore cheek. 

“You come when I say,” his lips land on every spot he’s hit you, but not the spot you need him the most. “Now why am I punishing you?” 

Your mind is mush, overrun by the overwhelming need to orgasm. You didn’t quit. He wants you to and you didn’t. That’s why he’s hitting you. 

“I don’t know Mr Miller,” you whine. His hand trails up the soft skin of your inner thigh, your legs tremble under his touch and you fight against your shaking arms to keep your body how he wants it. 

“No?” He says with a smirk. “On your elbows, forehead on the floor.” 

“I’m sorry,” you say as you get into his new required position. 

“You should be,” he stands and walks towards the bed. Leaving your ass up and on display. “You lied and snuck out, then after your spanking tonight you stayed at work for another two hours. You also used my marks to make money. You, my sweet girl, are a brat.” He’s practically growling by the time he finishes, settling himself behind you. “That’s why I’m punishing you.” 

Deep down Joel knows he should stop. Not for the obvious reasons: best friend's daughter, twenty years younger, four years younger than his own daughter. But because he hasn’t had a real conversation with you yet about your hard and soft limits. Didn’t even ask if you wanted to be his sub. But your smooth little ass is up in the air, pussy glistening in the dim light of his sex room and nothing but your pleasure matters anymore. 

You swallow hard, “I’m sorry for being a brat, Mr Miller.” 

“I don’t think you are,” he says and you hear the distinct sound of a cap of lube opening behind you. “I think that you have enjoyed yourself so much that you’re going to be back on that corner waiting for an Uber to take you to work tonight. You want me to come after you. Because you are a little slut with a very greedy pussy.” 

Something cool presses against your soaked entrance and you cry out as he continues, “so I’ll tell you what. You can go to work tonight, but you’ll have to do it my way,” slowly that cool something slides inside of you, filling you slightly but it’s not enough. “Fuck, practically sucked it in, babygirl.” 

You can feel it, a hard ball that’s pushing right against your g spot, a slender piece staying outside your body for easy removal. “That is going to stay in until I take it out. It vibrates, and if you don’t behave…I will turn it on.” 

His large, rough hands grip you by the hips and pull you back so your ass is flush against his body, his cock stiff as nails under his jeans. “It’s time to get some sleep, sweetheart. Get in the bed, please.” 

“But…” you pout into the plush carpet. “Please, Mr Miller.” 

“What did I say? Bad girls don’t get rewarded. Come on,” he taps your hip. “Bed.” 

You stand up on shaky legs, thankful that the best is only two steps ahead of you. But the toy inside of you has you feeling like a powder keg on the edge of exploding. Joel pulls the covers back and climbs in with you, pulling you in to rest your head on his chest. His arm drapes around your body, the other resting behind his head. 

“How are you feeling after tonight?” He whispers, using an app on his phone to turn the lights off. 

“Horny,” you whisper, burying yourself deeper into his neck. 

“I know. But you know I can’t make you come, right? I can’t reward you for this behaviour.” His lips fall to your hairline, two light lingering kisses melting you further into him. 

“What can I do, Mr Miller?” The moment the last syllable of his name leaves your lips the vibrator comes to life inside of you. “Oh god - thank you. Thank you.” Your body twitches against his, your leg coming to drape across him as you subconsciously hump and grind into his hip. 

“That feel good, baby?” He asks, holding you tighter against his strong body. 

“Yes. Yes. Hnnnng, yes.” You grind harder, your arousal coating his hip and leg, your clit sliding along him with ease now. “Joel, please.” 

Shit. He should punish you for calling him Joel but you’re so goddamn beautiful as you start to fall apart and he can’t hold back any longer. He’s let other subs go days without an orgasm, he’s gotten off to them begging and crying for relief. But you. You sound so damn sweet to his ears and he can’t stand to see you like this anymore. 

He has you flipped onto your back, trapped under his weight before you can even register what’s happening. He’s kissing you deeply, tongue taking what it wants as your legs kick and shake under him. 

“Please!” You cry between kisses. 

His thick fingers sliding between your puffy folds before grabbing the end of the vibrator, you scream out as he pulls the toy from you. 

“Shhh…just a little bit more. I’m going to make it better now,” he says gently, kissing down your neck, swirling his tongue around each nipple piercing. 

“Please. Please. Pleeeaase, Mr Miller. Please. It hurts. I need it, please.” You’re a mumbling mess and the words leaving your lips are practically incomprehensible. 

“I know. Relax baby. Breathe.” He says between kisses down your sternum, his tongue tracing your curves. When he finally settles in between your thighs he swallows hard, he wants to dive right in, make you drench his face as you come. “Look at me, darlin’.” 

His warm breath hits your pussy and you fight your hips from bucking up to his face as prop yourself up on an elbow and try to focus your eyesight on him. You didn’t know it was possible to be so turned on that you practically had tequila vision. 

His voice is serious yet calm as he says, “I’m going to make you come using my fingers and my tongue. Is that ok?” 

You nod your head and a faint ‘yes’, leaves your lips. He doesn’t want to ask permission, and next time he won’t. But right now he needs to know you’re ok with this. 

“Can I lick and touch both the outside and inside of this beautiful, weeping, pussy?” 

It starts to hit you that Joel Miller would never do something you didn’t want and that sets your soul on fire. He cares. About you. Only you. Wants to do things for you. You are not a burden here. 

“Yes, Mr Miller. Please. Touch me.” The room suddenly feels twenty degrees hotter, you can feel sweat beading on your skin. 

“That’s my girl,” he says, sliding his ring and middle finger around your desperate entrance. You cry out, dropping your body to the bed. 

Pleasure. Overwhelming pleasure. 

“No no baby girl, eyes on me.” 

You somehow muster the strength to raise yourself onto shaky arms. His two strong fingers slide deep into your heat with minimal resistance and you immediately start gasping. 

Pleasure. Life altering, heart stopping pleasure. 

“Fuuuuck. Baby. So tight. Have you ever squirted before?” His cheeks are flushed with need. He might be the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen. 

Your breasts rise and fall with your ragged breaths. You shake your head and moan out a ‘no’. 

He smiles down at your dripping cunt, “I can feel it. Gotta relax for me. Just breathe and let it happen.” 

Nerves flutter in your stomach and then he curls his fingers forward, putting so much pressure on a soft spongy spot that you didn’t know existed until today. On instinct, your knees try to close but his wide frame keeps you open. You yell his name to the ceiling, as all the air whooshes from your lungs. 

“Breathe baby,” he says as he curls his fingers once, twice, three more times. You can hear how wet you are and the pressure becomes unbearable. Stars start to blur your vision, the walls of your pussy squeeze tightly around his fingers and then it’s just a blur. A blur of all consuming pleasure and you turn into a boneless, mumbling mess. 

“That’s it. That’s my girl. Come for me. Soak me. Good girl,” Joel’s free hand pressed down on your mound as a wet heat leaks all over you. “Good fuckin’ girl. Let go for me.” 

You’re not sure if you’re screaming or not, all you hear and feel is Joel. Everything is Joel. Strong hands, deep gravel voice, warm vanilla smell. He’s everywhere and you never want it to stop. 

“Keep going. That’s it. You look so beautiful,” he says, licking a long stripe up your fluttering pussy, drinking and slurping up your juices. “Oooh yeah - gooood giiirrll”

Almost immediately after your orgasm crests it becomes too much. You’re so overstimulated that it hurts and your moans of pleasure become cries of pain. You forget your name, where you are, you even forget your safe word. But Joel knows, he always knows. 

He stops pumping his fingers and says your name, “look at me sweet pea.”

You blink slowly, you’re wrecked, barely able to keep your eyelids open, almost convinced they’ve been replaced with steel. You’re sucking in air, did you not breathe that entire time? 

“Breathe baby, you’re ok.” He says, stilling his fingers until you’re ready. 

“I’m sorry, Mr Miller. I know I called you Joel. I won’t do it again.” 

So fucking cute. “It’s ok, darlin’ girl. I want you to let loose when you come.” He places a few light kisses along your thighs. The sheets and his bare chest are soaked. “I’m gonna pull my fingers out.” 

You fall back to the bed and fist the sheets to ground yourself as he slides his fingers out. “You did such a good job,” he praises as you whimper at the loss of his fingers inside of you. 

He crawls up your body, placing his strong forearms beside your head, moving any hair that has escaped the ribbon from your face. “I’m so proud of you, babygirl.”

“Fuck me,” you mumble. 

He grins down at you. “That’s my little slut,” he says darkly, ripping his jeans and underwear off, kissing you hard and rough - just how you like it. His hard cock lands heavy on your clit and you cry out into his mouth. “You sure about this?” He says cockily. 

“Fuck me, Mr Miller. Please. I need your -,” he slams deep inside you, hips flush against yours. He’s so deep you swear you can feel it behind your navel. The girth of him giving you a painful but pleasurable stretch, “oh god. I’m gonna come again.” 

“Squeeze me, baby. Yell out. Show me what I do to you,” he hooks your knees in his elbows to get deeper. Hips grinding and slamming into yours. “So goddamn good. So tight. Give it to me, little one.” 

The heat in your belly snaps as you come apart for him again. Every muscle goes limp and pliant as he folds you in half, knees practically behind your head like some sort of tantric pretzel. The walls of your pussy clamp down on his dick as cry out in pained moans. Before your orgasm has even tapered off he’s slipping out of you and flipping you around. 

“Hands and knees, like you were on the floor.” He practically yells it at you, like a drill sergeant. 

You don’t have the cognitive ability to even know what your arms or legs are, lying on your belly down in the puddle you created earlier. 

“Can’t,” you moan before the sharp snap of the riding crop hits your ass. Adrenaline spikes as you start to find your arms, bringing them beside you to push up. Another three quick strikes hit your backside. “Fuck. Stop, Joel. Please.” 

He strikes you again. You most definitely do not want him to stop and you already know that he loves when you beg. “It huuuurts,” you gasp as you bring yourself up to your knees. Your all wobbly limbs, like a newborn giraffe, and panting breaths as he hits six quick strikes down your thigh. Crying out with each one, “I’m sorry. I’ll be good. Please just stop.” 

“You should see how your pussy clenches with each hit, my little masochist,” he praises, moving to punish the other thigh in the same way he did the other one. “You could come from this, couldn’t you?”

“No. It hurts. I’m sorry, daddy.” 

Joel stops. The word daddy suspended in the air between you. Fuck, it just slipped out. You’ve never said it to a man before and now you wish you could just crawl into a little hole and die alone. 

“Oh babygirl,” he says proudly, coming up behind you and rubbing his dick up and down your wet pussy. “Do you like that? Calling me daddy?” 

“It slipped out. I’m sorry Mr Miller,” you desperately want to bury your face in the pillows but you keep your head held high, just like he wants you too. 

“Tell daddy to fuck you,” he says, his hand grabbing the base of your tied back hair. 

“F-fuck me, daddy,” you say in the sweetest and most innocent sounding voice you can muster.

With one snap of his hips he’s fully inside of you, his hand pulls at your hair. You scalp tingling and burning, only adding to the pleasure building again in between your legs. 

“You like it rough. Don’t you, little one?” You moan out in agreement, “like it when daddy fucks you this deep. Like it when daddy is in your belly. Don’t you?” 

“Oh god. Oh god. Oh god.” It’s like you’re a broken record, unable to come up with anything except moans, cries and ‘oh god’s’. 

Joel’s hand moves from your hair to between your shoulder blades and pushes down. A silent command for you to rest your chest on the bed. You do as he says, “good fuckin girl. You want me to fuck you while I use the crop? Is that what you want my little pain slut?” 

“Yes please, Mr Miller,” you gasp, hands fisting the sheets, muscles clenching as you prepare for what’s about to happen. 

The pace at which he’s fucking you continues. He’s fast and rough, his balls slapping against your pussy with each trust. The crop hits the bottom of one of your feet first, then just to the right of your left shoulder blade. 

“Not gonna stop until you use that safeword. Brats don’t get rewards,” He fucks up into you a few more times as he swats at the front of your thigh. 

Blinding heat and pleasure start to course through you as you come again. “My little masochist,” he says again, pulling back to slap at your ass as you come on his cock. Tears blur your vision, you want to stop but you want to make him proud. You feel his dick getting harder, twitching slightly. 

Just a few more minutes, you think to yourself. Until he strikes you harder than all the other times. The sound of leather on your skin fills your ears and you pull away from him, “COWBOY!!” 

You collapse into the sheets as Joel turns away, unable to stop his orgasm and wanting to be respectful of your need to stop. He cums into the sheets with his hand, biting back your name from leaving his lips. 

He turns to find you facedown, red and purple marks already forming. “Baby,” he whispers, his hand coming to caress your lower back. You flinch under his touch. 

Fuck, I went to hard. 

“Shhh, relax. It’s over now. Let me take care of you.” He sees you visibly melt into the mattress, and why wouldn’t you. His voice is soft and gentle as his fingers trail up and down your spine. “I’m so proud of you for using your safeword. Can you roll over for me?” 

You do as he says, using any last ounce of energy to roll over. He shuffles himself to sit on the edge of the bed, lifting your upper body to help you prop up in some pillows, your eyelids are impossibly heavy. He reaches into the small mini fridge that’s disguised as a bedside table and takes out a bottle of water. 

“I need you to drink this, honey. Then I will put some coconut oil on those marks. Ok?” 

You open your eyes as he cracks the water. He looks wrecked. Beads of sweat line his hairline, curls sticking to his forehead, but fuck is he beautiful. 

Joel Miller. Sex God. 

“How are you feeling?” He asks as he slides his boxers back up his leg, his still half hard cock pressing against the fabric. 

You’re suddenly unable to stop from giggling. You feel giddy and drunk as you down the water and say, “I feel fucking amazing!” 

Joel shakes his head and lets out a little laugh. “Good,” he says, pressing his lips to your forehead. He pulls makeup wipe out from the bedside drawer and wipes the mascara that’s run down your cheeks. Then he finds himself doing something he’s never done with his other subs. He grabs the coconut oil and reaches a hand out to help you off the bed. 

“Let’s go get some sleep,” he says. Steading you and leading you up the stairs to his room. This is dangerous territory, but he needs to wake up with you. Cherish you. Care for you. Other subs always slept down here. Never in his room and rarely with him. But certainly never ever in his room. 

You follow with shaky legs and nearly collapse onto his bed when you get there. 

“Can we do that again?” You ask as he rubs oil on your tender backside. 

“Fuck yes. But before we do that,” he taps your side and you roll over so he can oil your thigh. “You need to fill out some paperwork.” 

You groan and he lets out a deep laugh. “I promise it’s fun paperwork. Hard and soft limits. Things you want to try.” 

He looks up at you with adoration, mirroring the looks you’re giving him. He nods towards your pierced nipples, “I like those. Very sexy. As soon as they’re healed we are gonna have some fun.” 

You blush, “thanks. You’re - umm, you’re actually the first person to see them.” 

“That right?” He says proudly, lying down beside you and pulling you into his chest. 

“I have an appointment at the piercer next week. Any requests?” You say teasingly as you nuzzle into his chest. Your appointment is to get a second hole in each ear lobe, but may as well have a little fun.

“Hmmm,” he hums, lips grazing your hairline with little kisses. “Belly button.” 

“Oh, I was thinking of doing my clit.” You glance up at him through your eyelashes, bottom lip between your teeth. 

“Fuck me, baby. You tryin’ to kill this old man? I’m gonna have to leave the goddamn continent while that heals.” He pulls you in tighter, pulling the blanket up around both of you. “Get some rest now, we have a big afternoon.”

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[turvi]

Ypu said you wanna write for rodrick and I wanna request.

So rodrick with a good girl neighbour reader (think- gwen stacy type) and rodrick does all kinda stuff to impress her even at school so yea.

I'm a sucker for goofy! Himbo! Rodrick

Thank you for the request. I hope you enjoy this

"BOYS! OUR NEW NEIGHBOURS ARE HERE!" Susan yelled and huffed when none of the boys responded to her call. Greg was busy filming Rowley trying to fall from his chair. Rodrick was in the basement and didn't hear his mam call out to him as he was drowned in the sounds of his drums.

A few minutes later, Rodrick finally comes up to drink water, only to see the new neighbours...most importantly, their daughter.

Rodrick didn't realise he had dropped his drumsticks on the floor until his mother was tugging him towards the living room and introduced him to the neighbours, the L/ns. And there she was with a sweet, gentle smile telling him her name.

"Hey, nice to meet you. I'm Y/n," she said, offering her hand.

Rodrick held her hand, not wanting to let go, but he had to since both his and her parents were watching them. "I-uh...I am Rodrick."

He scowled when he heard Greg snickering behind him. He wanted to hide so badly just because he couldn't tell his name to a pretty girl. But she doesn't laugh at him. She squeezed his hand, letting him know it was ok.

It was, at this moment, he wondered if it was too soon to ask her to marry him? He shook his head. He was being silly. Just because a girl was nice to him doesn't mean he should fall in love with her.

Then two days later, he heard knocking on the garage door. He sighed, thinking it was one of the upright elder people wanting him to keep the voice low. When he opened the garage door, he almost let it go when he saw Y/n standing there, the harsh sunlight pouring down his lawn.

He quickly let her in and introduced her to his bandmates, who were just beaming at the sight of Rodrick being awkward and shy around her.

"Hey, I was just walking by and heard you guys play. I was wondering if you could teach me how to play drums. I already talked to your mom."

His friend patted his shoulder. "Rodrick is our drummer. He is a great teacher too, he can teach you. Right, Rodrick?"

Rodrick got out of his daze when he heard his name. "Uh...yeah...yeah...I drum...drums" It was like he never learnt English in school, and Rodrick hated how he sounded.

"Ok, tell me when you are free. I'll come."

"Actually, we are leaving, so you guys can continue. It was nice meeting you." his friend winked at him, leaving the two alone. Rodrick knew he couldn't do much but look at her knowing his mom was peeping through the basement door. But he was just happy seeing her and talking to her.

He was happy they were bonding. He would teach her to play the drums. She would spellcheck his assignments. Rodrick knew she had a place in his heart when she would gently correct his spellings.

Slowly he loved holding her hands, her smile, her nose scrunch, the way she snorted before she laughed, and her soft sweaters that always smelled nice.

He didn't realise when he fell in love, or was he always in love? When he would go shopping with his family, he would spot things that he knew Y/n might like. He even saw a jewellery shop, and his heart dropped looking at the prices of the rings. But then, he had yet to win her heart. He was determined to buy this ring.

Of course, by the time he would be rich enough to buy the ring, he would already have your heart. But Rodrick didn't know he already had Y/n's heart, and she knew it was always going to be his.

@milivanili99 @cecekcecekceckceckceck @maneskai @isaentremundos @autumn3l3ctr0swings @mikulovingtrash

A/N: If you like this REBLOG AND COMMENT

[corruptedcaps]

7 Minutes in Heaven

Sarah adjusted her glasses and smoothed down her Star Wars t-shirt as she stood in front of Franklin’s house, clutching a book, a small gift for him. Her heart pounded in her chest, not just because it was Franklin’s 18th birthday, but because she had finally decided today was the day she would tell him how she felt. She took a deep breath and knocked on the door.

Franklin's mom greeted her warmly and directed her to the basement, where she could already hear the familiar sounds of excited chatter and the hum of a video game console. Descending the stairs, Sarah spotted Franklin in the middle of a lively discussion about the latest Dungeons & Dragons campaign with their friends.

“Sarah! You made it!” Franklin called out, his face lighting up as he saw her. He wore his favorite Doctor Who shirt, and his messy brown hair fell over his thick framed glasses as usual.

“Happy birthday, Franklin.” Sarah said, handing him the gift bag with a shy smile. She could feel her cheeks redden as their hands briefly touched.

“Thanks! This is awesome.” He said, peeking into the bag and grinning.

Just as Sarah was about to ask Franklin if they could talk in private, the basement door swung open with a loud bang. Brett, Franklin’s older brother, swaggered down the stairs, his muscular frame filling the narrow space. Behind him trailed his girlfriend Kayla, her high-pitched bitchy laugh grating on everyone's nerves. Behind them was their posse of equally obnoxious friends.

“Hey, baby bro!” Brett called out, his voice dripping with mock affection.

Franklin’s face tightened with a mixture of fear and anger. “Brett, mom said you couldn’t crash my party!”

Brett ignored him and sauntered over to the stereo, swapping the geeky soundtrack for loud, thumping music. Kayla and her friends started raiding the snacks, making loud comments about the “kiddie” party.

Sarah's blood boiled as she watched Franklin’s party being hijacked. She couldn’t stand seeing him hurt like this. Summoning all her courage, she marched up to Brett. “Hey! You can’t just come in here and ruin everything!”

Brett raised an eyebrow, amused. Before he could respond, Kayla stepped in front of him, a condescending smile plastered on her face. “Aww, look at you standing up for your little nerdy friend. How cute.” She said and pushed her onto the nearby sofa with a cackle.

Brett smirked, relishing the tension in the room. “Alright, we’ll leave. How about a little game?”

“And then you’ll leave?” Franklin asked.

“Scouts honor.” Brett said making a mock crossing of his heart. Franklin nodded.

“Ok we’re going to play a little game I like to call, 7 minutes in heaven.” Brett said with a deepening grin.

All the nerds in the room shifted uncomfortably, they knew what was involved in that game and the social awkwardness that came with it.

“But we don’t have any bottles to spin.” Franklin said matter of factly. Brett looked around the room and grabbed a long, somewhat phallic statue.

“This will do.” Brett said picking it up.

Franklin’s eyes widened in horror. “Brett, we can’t use that! That’s one of Mom and Dad’s fertility idols they got on vacation!”

“Cram it Franklin, it’s just a game. Now everyone, sit in a circle.” Brett snapped

The room fell silent as Brett’s friends began to sit down, their sneers making it clear they were enjoying the discomfort they caused. Sarah exchanged a worried glance with Franklin, but reluctantly, everyone followed suit and sat in a circle on the floor.

One of Brett’s friends, Greg, a tall guy with a smirk that matched Brett's, took the idol and spun it hard. The room watched with a mix of dread and anticipation as it slowed, finally pointing at Lydia, a shy girl from Franklin’s group who was known for her encyclopedic knowledge of all things Star Trek.

Brett laughed loudly, picked up the idol and handed it to Greg. “Alright, time for 7 minutes in heaven! Get in the closet, you two.”

Greg hesitated, clearly not thrilled about the idea, but under Brett’s watchful eye, he reluctantly stood up and walked over to Lydia. She blushed furiously but allowed herself to be led into the small closet nearby. The door closed behind them, and an awkward silence filled the basement.

The next seven minutes felt like an eternity. Brett's group exchanged snide remarks, while Franklin and his friends watched the closet door with a mixture of anxiety and curiosity.

Finally, the door creaked open, and the two emerged. Though it was subtle, Lydia looked different. Her glasses were gone, her hair was out of it's ponytail and from somewhere she had gotten gum and was chewing it obnoxiously. Sarah spied her nails and saw they were long and manicured. Did she have those earlier, she thought to herself.

Apart from her physical difference though she seemed to hold herself differently. Her head held higher, her poise more confident. She clung to Greg as though she were his girlfriend.

“Eh, dude me and my lady here are going to head out.” Greg said to Brett as her looked lustfully at Lydia and tossed the idol back to Brett who looked at them confused.

“Fine, leave. Whatever.” Brett said eventually shrugging his shoulders. Irritated by loosing two of the party but undeterred, he turned his gaze to the circle. “Alright, who’s next? You over there, spin.” He ordered, pointing at one of Franklin’s friends.

As the game continued, a strange pattern began to emerge. Each time the idol was spun, the pair that went into the closet emerged with a transformation that no one could quite explain. If a nerd spun and landed on one of Brett’s bully friends, the bully would come out transformed, more like the nerd who spun, and vice versa. And each time, the pair exited the closet infatuated with each other, holding hands, and promptly left the party together.

It was odd, surreal even, but no one thought there was anything at play other than some horny teens’ hormones getting the best of them. The tension in the room grew thicker with each round, and now only Brett, Kayla, Sarah, and Franklin remained.

“Well only four left. We could call it quits now, but let’s see where this goes.” Brett grinned as he took the idol and spun it.

The idol whirled around, everyone holding their breath as it slowed. When it finally stopped, it was pointing directly at Sarah.

Sarah’s heart skipped a beat. She glanced at Franklin, who looked as though he wanted to intervene, but Brett was already stepping forward, his sneer firmly in place.

“Looks like it’s you and me, nerd girl.” Brett said mockingly as he grabbed Sarah by the arm and led her to the closet.

“Don’t go falling in love with her.” Kayla said with a cackle after them.

Inside the cramped closet, Sarah and Brett stood on opposite sides, arms crossed and glaring at each other, with the idol standing between them against the wall on the floor. The tension was palpable, and for a moment, the only sound was their breathing.

Then, faintly at first, Sarah began to hear whispers in her head. “Brett is so manly, so handsome. Isn’t he better than that loser Franklin?” She shook her head, trying to ignore the foreign voice, but it grew louder and more insistent. Neither her or Brett had noticed the idol's eyes glowing.

“If Franklin really cared about you he’d be ripping that door open to get you but he’s not because he’s weak and pathetic. Brett on the other hand… that’s a real man.” The voice continued and she found her eyes betraying her as they slowly drifted over to Brett.

She drank in the sight of his strong jawline, his confident stance. The repulsion she once felt for him and his cruel ways started to melt away, replaced by an inexplicable attraction. She bit her lip hungrily, her body reacting before her mind could catch up.

Her body was starting to heat up as memories of seeing him mow the lawn topless ran through her head. The image of his glistening muscles making her panties suddenly wet. She tugged at her clothes in discomfort as if they were too tight.

She didn't yet realise but her tits had gone up two sizes already and her waist had shrunk. Her butt as well had swelled enough to give her whole body a new more pleasing silhouette. She hadn't yet noticed but Brett had.

He looked at her like he had never had before, his eyes noticing curves he had missed. Sarah was just the nerd next door but for some reason now he was seeing her in a completely different light.

"Did you get a haircut or something? Whatever it is you're looking great." He asked her with a mix of confusion and intrigue.

Sarah felt her his eyes on her, looking at her, noticing her. She liked it. “Mmmm he's complimenting you, that's more than Franklin ever does. Reward him.” The voice purred in her head.

"You tell me." She grinned as reached up, pulled her hair out of its ponytail, and let it cascade down her back in a teasing manner. Brett's eyes followed her every movement, almost entranced.

"No I don't think that's it. Maybe it's your glasses?" He said with a cheeky smile as he took a step towards her. Her heart pounded as he did.

"He likes you, but can you make him WANT you?" The voice in her head said darkly.

Sarah took off her glasses, tossing them aside carelessly. Her vision remained perfectly clear, as if her transformation had enhanced her senses and although she couldn't see them, her eyes had changed from her dull brown to icy blue.

"What glasses?" She said returning his cheeky smile to him, while taking a step closer herself. They now stood closer to one another than they ever had in their life.

"I know, it's got to be those nails." Brett said snapping his fingers and nodding towards her hands. Sarah looked down at her freshly manicured talons painted red. It didn't even dawn on her that they had been chipped and bitten only a few minutes ago.

She flexed her hand and looked at her nails with glee. They looked good but her mind couldn't help wonder how they would look wrapped around Brett's cock.

"Take him! You deserve him and it'll be so hawt stealing him from Kayla, won't it?" The voice purred as Sarah ran a hand up Brett's strong chest, her fingers lightly tracing the contours of his muscles.

While clearly turned on, Brett nevertheless cocked his eyebrow in curiosity. “What are you doing?”

Sarah smiled flirtatiously “Just admiring the view.” She replied, her voice sultry. Her eyes locked onto his, a mischievous glint in them as she continued to explore his chest with her hand.

"What's gotten into you?" Brett asked, his voice low and husky.

"Does it matter?" Sarah replied, her voice dripping with seduction. "I think we're both enjoying it, don't you?"

Brett lifted a hand to her face, cupping it tenderly sending a shiver down Sarah’s spine. Her body was red hot with desire for him but a part of her still resisted, urging her to leave. The part of her that still held a candle for Franklin. However just as she was building up enough strength to pull away, Brett extinguished that candle with a kiss.

As their mouths moved together and their tongues entwined the transformation in Sarah surged. Her chest swelled even more, filling out her shirt to the point where it strained against the fabric. Her skin took on a golden tan, becoming flawless and radiant.

Makeup appeared on her face, enhancing her natural beauty with perfectly applied eyeshadow, mascara, and lipstick. Her dull brown eyes became icy blue.

As Brett and Sasha continued their fervent kiss, a deeper transformation began to take hold. Sasha's mind started to shift, reshaping her thoughts and desires. The once fervent love for nerdy stuff like comics, video games, and sci-fi dissolved, replaced by an intense interest in makeup, jewelry, and fashionable clothes. The joy she once found in knowledge and creativity morphed into a fixation on beauty, status, and power.

Despite the heat of the moment, something in Sarah's mind was compelling her to open her eyes. When she did she finally saw out of the corner of her eye the idol. It's eyes glowing an ominous red. That's when she put two and two together.

The idol they had been using as a makeshift bottle was somehow turning the spinner’s target into the spinner’s perfect partner. She knew if she didn’t stop it soon she’d be forever changed, she'd no longer be the Sarah everyone knew. But she didn’t want to stop it now, she wanted more!

Her previous kindness and empathy were overwritten by a growing desire to be bad, to assert her dominance and superiority over others. She relished the idea of being a bully, of wielding her newfound beauty and charisma to get what she wanted, regardless of who she hurt in the process. The spark of cruelty in her eyes intensified, and she pulled away from Brett, looking at him with a newfound arrogance.

"My God Sarah...you're..." Brett said, his eyes wide with amazement at the complete transformation before him.

"Ah ah, call me Sasha, babe." She interrupted, a playful smile on her lips.

Brett nodded, unable to tear his eyes away from her. "Sasha... you're incredible."

“You haven’t seen anything yet.” She said with a devilish smile as she sunk to her knees and undid his belt. Brett's cock sprang eagerly out and Sasha's mouth began to water at the sight of it.

Wasting no time she wrapped her pink lips around it and started to suck. Brett groaned immediately as she worked his dick like a pro. She couldn't believe how good it tasted, she was going to enjoy doing this more often.

As she sucked her body continued to change. Her hair darkened, her pussy tightened, and her body became incredibly fit and flexible. It dawned on her that the other guys and girls that had been in there before them had only kissed, their passions fuelling the idol only so much and in turn their transformation. Sasha was now the hottest girl in school but she wasn't about to stop there.

Running her tongue up his shaft and hungrily swallowing his precum, Sasha pushed Brett against the wall of the closet, kissing him deeply.

"Fuck me babe, fuck me hard with your big dick! Rip off my panties and fuck me." She moaned in his ear. Brett expertly undid her now baggy jeans which slumped to her ankles. He did as she had asked and ripped her underwear off her in one clean tear. She giggled at the sight of his strength.

Her giggles soon turned into passionate moans as his dick slid easily into her wet pussy. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head as the idol's eyes bathed the two of them in red light.

Sasha’s tits grew even bigger, her lips plumped up and her skin became even softer and more tan. Even her clothes began to change. Her jeans seemed to turn to dust and blow away. Her nerdy shirt grew a little longer, darker, turning into a little black slutty dress. High expensive heels wrapped around her pedicured toes. She lifted herself onto Brett and wrapped her sleek legs around him.

“Mmmm yessss baby, fuck what little of the nerd I used to be out of me! Oh god, I’m going to cum!” Sasha whined as Brett pounded her pussy over and over until a wave of pleasure washed over both of them as they both climaxed.

“Oh my god Sasha you’re perfect.“ Brett managed to say as her lifted her gently back down onto her feet.

Sasha pressed herself against him, her body warm and inviting. "You’re not so bad yourself stud." She purred.

Sasha smirked, reveling in her new identity. She straightened her dress and admired her reflection in the mirror, her thoughts centered on her own beauty and power.

Sasha and Brett emerged from the closet, hand in hand, their faces glowing with a shared and inexplicable infatuation. Franklin and Kayla stared at the pair in stunned silence.

Kayla, her face twisting with anger and jealousy, stepped forward. “What the hell Brett? I thought all those sounds we heard was a joke!”

Sasha grinned triumphantly as she squeezed on Brett’s arm, ignoring the glare from Kayla. Kayla however grabbed Sasha and pulled her from her embrace.

“I don’t know what you think you’re doing slut, but get your hands off my man!” Kayla snarled.

Sasha laughed, a cruel, mocking sound that echoed through the room. “Bitch, you’re yesterday’s trash.” With a swift, calculated move, she grabbed Kayla’s hair and yanked it hard, causing her to yelp in pain and fall to her knees.

Relishing her power, Sasha pointed a perfectly manicured finger at Franklin. “That’s your man now.” She declared with a smirk.

Kayla’s eyes filled with fury and confusion as she looked at Franklin, who seemed equally bewildered. Sasha turned her attention to Franklin, her eyes gleaming with a mixture of malice and amusement. “Spin the idol, Franklin.”

Brett tossed the idol to Franklin who put it on the ground and gave the idol a spin. As it slowed, Sasha maneuvered Kayla to make sure she was in its path.

Sasha’s grin widened. “Looks like it’s your turn, Kayla. Enjoy your seven minutes in heaven.” She said and pushed Kayla toward the closet, the look in her eyes daring her to protest.

Reluctantly, Kayla stepped into the closet with Franklin following suit, clutching the idol. Sasha slammed the door behind them and Brett propped a chair up to seal them in.

Brett pulled Sasha close, his hands resting on her waist. “You know, I never thought I’d see the day when little nerdy Sarah would turn into such a knockout bitch.” He said with a smirk.

Sasha chuckled, running her fingers through Brett’s hair. “And I never thought I’d find myself attracted to a mean guy like you, Brett. Funny how things change, huh?”

Brett leaned in, his lips brushing against her ear. “So, what’s the plan now babe? You going to take over the whole school?”

Sasha grinned, her eyes gleaming with ambition. “Oh, you bet. I’m going to be the queen bee, and no one’s going to stand in my way. Not Kayla, not anyone.”

Brett’s smirk widened. “I like the sound of that. And I’ll be right by your side, making sure no one forgets who’s in charge.”

Sasha leaned in for another kiss, savoring the power she felt in Brett’s arms. “Oh fuck you make me so wet you hawt bastard. Come on, lets go upstairs so you can fuck my brains out some more.” She grinned as she pulled him towards the stairs.

"What about those two?" Brett said half heartedly as he gestured a thumb at the closet.

"Leave them. The longer they are in there the more dorky Kayla will become. Taking her place as the queen bee will be a cake walk." Sasha smirked as she led Brett up and out of the basement.

[lizardho]

When I came out, I was SO scared I was gonna get disowned. I wrote a letter to my parents, sent it to their emails, put a physical copy on the counter, and left the house for a few hours to give them time. In that time I tried coffee for the first time, which was a dreadful idea, and got all jittery. I kept waiting for a text or something but nothing happened.

After a few hours, I didn’t hear back from them so I went home. My parents were home and had stacked a bunch of groceries on top of the letter without opening it. They said “hi” and I said “hi” and went down stairs to the basement. I held my dog and panicked about what to do. My sister, who knew that I had written them a letter of great importance, told me they hadn’t read it yet. She also told me she could ask them to do so. I consented to this and stayed in the basement. A few minutes later my dad knocked on the door and poked his soft smooth little nerd head in and said “hey buddy” and I started crying so hard I almost vomited. He came over and gave me a BIG hug and said that it was gonna be OK, he was OK with this, he knew it must have been hard but he was here for me. He told me he and my mom had already talked years before they had me about how if they had to pick between their faith and their child they’d pick their child. It was a very sweet moment. I came out to my mom later that evening and we were both bawling the whole time.

The day after I came out to my parents, I came out to my brother @inbabylontheywept at a Mexican restaurant and he took it like a champ. That evening my mom took me for a walk and looked almost angry - she said she wanted to make sure that I didn’t use being a woman as an excuse to not go to grad school. I told her I wouldn’t and she instantly looked relieved and happier.

My dad, on the other hand, seemed to struggle with it. He kept asking me if I had a boyfriend, and I told him I did not. He kept asking me if I wanted to go clothes shopping with him and I did not. He kept asking me if I would let him go to some of my shows, and I had NO idea what he was talking about.

Finally, 6 months after coming out, of awkward misgendering and questions that didn’t make sense from my dad, he excitedly pokes his soft smooth little nerd head into my bedroom again and says “I found a movie about Your People.” My people. I was absolutely bewildered, but he was so excited and I knew he had been trying SO hard so I watched it with him. It was The Birdcage, and it was amazing. It also was revelatory in that I finally realized why my initially-supportive father seemed to be having such a hard time with my pronouns and stuff - he didn’t know what the difference between trans and doing drag was. After the movie he again asked if I would invite him to one of my shows, and I said, “Hey dad, you know how about half the world is women?” And he said “yeah,” and I said “Well, see, I’m on that half now. I’m not doing drag.” And it was like a switch flipped in his brain. He was like “omg that’s so easy? I was so confused about what to call you when?”

Anyway, my parents are charming and my family has been so kind and patient with me, I like sharing the stories of my little wins with them.

[hayleythesugarbowl]

hey I love ur fics, can you maybe do like a Trevor evarts headcanon? Or a Spencer Agnew fic that takes place at the Shourtney reception.

Marry Me || Spencer Agnew x reader

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ masterlist • smosh masterlist  ⋆˚｡⋆୨୧⋆

summary: after seeing shayne and courtney tie the knot, you are worried that you’ll never find a love like theirs. that’s when you start to see your best friend spencer in a new light

word count: 2.4k

warnings: none

a/n: ok first of all i know everyone and their pet rat uses this pic but i couldn’t help it this photo of spencer does things to me 🫠 second of all, i loved both of these ideas and so i had to write them both!! trevor hcs to come stay tuned 🤭 i took some inspiration from that one friends ep in london for this iykyk so thanks mondler. enjoy!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~°~❦~°~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    “Spencer, if you were a guy you’d marry me, right?” 

     “First of all, ouch.” Spencer clutched his chest. “And second of all, what?”

     “I mean, is there something un-marryable about me?” You asked, taking a sip of your drink. 

     You didn’t know what was bringing on all of the sudden thoughts about being married—or not being married.

     Well, that was a lie. You did know.

     You had just watched two of your best friends get married earlier that day. Shayne and Courtney were perfect for each other. You were so happy for them and you loved being happy for them.

     But now, as you leaned against the bar at the reception, you couldn’t help but worry that this would never happen for you.

     You’d had lousy, short-lived relationship after lousy, short-lived relationship. Up until you met your last partner, who you’d dated for a year and a half. 

     It was the first long-term relationship you’d had—with someone you thought you could end up marrying.

        That didn’t turn out exactly how you thought it would. You’d broken up last month. 

    You’d always thought the fact that you’d end up with someone for life was a given. It just happened. It had to. But now you weren’t so sure. 

     “I don’t think so,” Spencer looked you up and down, his voice bringing you out of your thoughts. “People settle all the time.”

    You whacked Spencer on the arm. “Very funny. But when I end up as an old cat lady living in your basement, it won’t be.”

     You and Spencer had been best friends for as long as you could remember. It was him who’d gotten you your job at Smosh and introduced you to all the people you were surrounded by now. 

     “There are worse fates. Cats are dope and I’ll always run the ac.” 

     “Spencer,” you whined. “I’m serious.”

     “Yes, (Y/n), I’m sure someone out there would love to marry you,” he said. “Now can I go now? I heard there’s a La Croix tower inside.”

     “I wish,” Shayne said, walking by and overhearing. “Courtney ixnayed that idea a while ago.”

     “Not until I get my wenching hour!” Courtney stated, catching up and stopping to kiss her husband. 

     “Congratulations guys,” you called as they kept walking, mingling with more people.

     You wanted that. Not the La Croixs or whatever Court was talking about, but a relationship like theirs. 

     A best friend who knows everything about you and who would do anything for you. Someone who you spend all of your time with, not knowing how you feel about them until you do. And then getting to know them as a partner and becoming intimate with them in a new way.

     Getting to love them in a new way.

     You groaned, turning to Spencer. “Do me a favor? If we’re both single when we’re 40, let’s get married.”

     “Woah, what makes you think I’m going to be single when I’m 40?”

     You raised an eyebrow. 

     “Yeah ok fine, I’ll marry you,” he agreed.

     You sighed and Spencer took a step closer to you, putting his arm around your shoulder. 

     “Hey, you’re going to find someone,” he said sincerely, “You’re kind and funny and beautiful. Lots of people would be lucky to have you.”

     “You’re just saying that,” you waved him off.

     “I’m dead serious,” he said, turning so he could look you in the eyes. “You’re one of the best people I know. Any guy who doesn’t love you immediately is on something.”

     You looked into his eyes as he comforted you. He looked like he really believed all of the things he was saying to you.

     This suddenly felt…different. As Spencer pulled you in for a hug, wrapping his arms around you, you couldn’t help but…

     No. This was Spencer. He was being a good friend, this was normal. Why now should you be…

     But you couldn’t keep the thought from creeping into the back of your mind. Spencer…

     You may have had a tiny crush on Spencer when you had first met. Who wouldn’t, you had thought. He was funny and cool and had killer tattoos. But once you’d become friends, all of that attraction had turned into friendship and you hadn’t thought of him that way since.

     Until now…

     You pulled away from Spencer’s embrace slowly. 

     “You’re going to get married, ok? You’re a catch. And if not, then I’ll be happy to marry you at 40. I’ll start picking out my tux tomorrow.”

     You smiled, thinking how sweet Spencer was being. 

     “Now, let’s talk about how many cats you’re going to have in my basement, because I max out at eleven.”

     And just like that the spell was broken. This was Spencer, your best friend. Who was always teasing you and making you laugh and definitely wasn’t someone you were romantically interested in.

     Right?

     “And if I had my heart set on twelve?” You asked him, carrying on the joke.

     “I guess I could make an exception,” he shrugged. “But only because I love you.”

     Your heart leapt and you tried to tell it to shut up. You and Spencer had told each other you loved each other several times. So why now did it just encourage your thoughts.

     Just then someone a few yards away called Spencer over.

     “Hey, I’ll catch up with you later,” he told you. “Try not to marry a stranger while I’m gone.”

     And then he left you to your musings. You didn’t like Spencer, not like that. 

     You blamed it on the wanting a relationship like Shayne and Courtney. And you had just been worried that you were never going to find anyone, and Spencer had comforted you. 

     Maybe you just felt grateful, that was all. Grateful that your best friend was there to cheer you up.

      But you couldn’t picture Spencer calling you beautiful and then wrapping his arms around you without feeling all warm and fuzzy inside.

     You imagined actually marrying Spencer. You had said it mostly as a joke and partly so you could have a backup in case you really were alone forever. 

     But now, the more you thought about it, the thought of being married to Spencer, sharing everything and being together for the rest of your lives, didn’t seem like just a backup. 

     Oh god. Maybe you did have feelings for Spencer. Maybe you always had. You tried to think back on your relationship, looking for signs. 

     You’d always felt close to him. Closer than you were with anybody else. Maybe it had always been him and you just hadn’t seen it in a while.  

     You began walking, desperate to be away from your thoughts and needing the distraction of moving. 

     You looked up just in time to realize you’d almost run into Amanda and Angela.

     “Hey guys,” you said, “Sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

     “Been there!” Angela leaned in for a high five and you looked down at the drink in your hand.

     “Oh no, it’s not—I’m not drunk,” you said. “I just have a lot on my mind, that’s all.”

     “Ooh, wedding tea!” Amanda exclaimed. “Spill.”

     You sighed. What was the harm in telling them. “You ever suddenly realize you might have feelings for your best friend even though you’ve never thought of them like that before?”

     “Isn’t that why we’re all here?” Angela gestured around her at the wedding festivities.  

     “That is pretty Shourtney coded,” Amanda nodded her head, before whispering to Angela, “Did I use that right?”

     Angela patted her on the shoulder.

     “I’m not talking about Shayne and Courtney,” you said.

     “Then never,” Angela said

     “All the time,” Amanda said at the same time, thinking. “Wait who do you—Spencer?”

     Angela hit her in the arm.

    “I mean, Spencer?” She said much quieter that time.

     “Maybe,” you whispered, not being able to stop the smile spreading on your face. 

     “Since when?” Angela asked you.

     “Like ten minutes ago?” You answered. “But in a way maybe I’ve always known? I was telling him all this stuff about how I was worried I’d never get married and that I was going to end up alone and he was so sweet and reassuring and now I can’t get the thought of him out of my head and…” you groaned, trailing off. “And now I don’t know.” 

     Angela and Amanda shared a look. “We have to,” Angela said.

     “Angela, we promised,” Amanda chided, shaking her head.

     “But c’mon,” she gestured at you. “We have to say something.”

     “Ok guys? I can still hear you,” you told them. 

     “Right, sorry.” Angela said. “It’s just—”

     “Spencerhasacrushonyou,” Amanda spit out.

     “Dude!” Angela threw her arms up. 

     “Sorry,” Amanda bit her lip.

     “You knew I wanted to say it,” Angela mumbled. “But I get it, not the time.”

     “Back up,” you got out, “What?”

     “Spencer really likes you, (Y/n),” Angela said. “We’ve known for a while now. In fact, I’m pretty sure everyone at the office except you has known for a while now.”

     What? You couldn’t believe your ears. What they were saying didn’t make sense. There was no way Spencer, your best friend, had had feelings for you this whole time.

     “No,” you said, taking a step back. “You guys are crazy.”

     “Yes,” Angela agreed. “But not about this.”

     “Ask him yourself,” Amanda said.

     “Yeah, and you know, just don’t mention that we were the ones who told you,” Angela shrugged.

     Were you really going to do this?

     You took a deep breath. What would you even say?

     Hey, a little birdie told me that you have a crush on me and I, as of very recently, have feelings for you, let’s see where this goes?

     “Hey, Angela,” Amanda suddenly stated  loudly. “Look, it’s that guy!”

    She pointed in the opposite direction and Angela’s eyes brightened. “Oh, I love that guy!”

     You turned around, seeing that Spencer was approaching you. 

     “Thanks guys,” you muttered sarcastically.

     They both hurried away and Angela winked at you as they passed. You rolled your eyes.

     Spencer came up behind you. “Damn, you don’t take a shower for like one day...”    

     You laughed. “No, they just had to run. Saw some guy, apparently.”

     “(Y/n), what’s up?” Spencer looked at you. “You kinda look like you had some of that punch inside.”

     He made a face.

     “You have feelings for me?” you blurted out.

     Arguably, you could’ve handled that better. You didn’t even mean to say it, but upon seeing Spencer it had just kinda slipped out. 

     Spencer’s expression turned into one of shock. He fumbled for words. “I, um—I don’t—who told you?”

     Is what he finally settled on.

     “Because if it was Angela, I swear—”

     “It doesn’t matter,” you told him. “What matters is, is it true?”

     Spencer sighed. “Wow, um, I definitely didn’t mean for you to find out this way—or at all, for that matter—but yeah. The eleven cats are out of the bag. I guess I have feelings for you.”

     “For how long?” You mumbled, still in disbelief even though he had just confirmed it. This night was a roller coaster of emotions.

     “For as long as I can remember,” Spencer rubbed the back of his neck. “Since the moment I met you.”

      You let out a breath. You didn’t know what to say.

     “But its no big deal!” He hurried out. “I’ve gone years of being your friend without you ever knowing. I’ve gotten kind of good at it. Since you obviously don’t feel the same way, can we just pretend this never happened and go back to the way things were?”

     “No,” you said slowly. “No, I can’t do that.”

     “Yeah, well, I guess this does sort of ruin our friendship, huh?” He deflated, looking at the ground. “I completely understand if you don’t feel comfortable with—”

     And that was all he got out before you kissed him. 

     He looked surprised for almost two seconds before he wrapped his arms around you slowly and kissed you back.

     He was hesitant at first, as if he wanted to make sure that you wanted this as much as he did. 

     But as you let your lips give him encouragement, he kissed you harder, more intensely.

     He kissed you like he had been waiting years for this moment.

     “Wow,” you breathed, pulling away gently. “That was…different.”

     “Yeah we don’t usually do that,” Spencer agreed and he sounded as breathless as you felt. 

    You both started laughing. 

     “But I’d like to keep doing it,” Spencer added.

     “Yeah,” you smiled at him, “yeah, me too. I guess I owe it to you, you have been obsessed with me for years.”

     “Obsess is a strong word!” Spencer held up his hands in defense. “I prefer unrequited pining.”

     “It might not have been entirely unrequited the whole time,” you confessed, grabbing Spencer’s hand. 

     You heard someone—or, multiple someones—cheering and you turned to find Shayne and Courtney looking in your direction. 

     “Finally!” Courtney shouted, laughing with the small crowd that had gathered around them, witnessing what just happened 

     “Time for all of us to cash in on our office bets,” Shayne said. “Who had 2024?”

     “I sure didn’t,” Amanda said, a few feet away from the bride and groom. “That was not on my 2024 bingo card.”

     She turned to Angela, who didn’t even look her way as she said, “Yeah, you used it right. 

     You laughed, looking at Spencer before turning back to everyone else. “Sorry, this is your wedding and here we are making out!”

     “The more the merrier!” Courtney called.

     “Wait a second, you’re not about to propose though are you?” Spencer asked.   “Because we still have a while before 40.”

     You giggled. “You totally just spoiled it! I didn’t even get to pull out my ‘marry me’ sign.”

     But he was right. You had time. To see where this went, to explore this new relationship. You couldn’t wait.

     You’d known Spencer as a friend, your best friend. And now you’d get to know him as a partner.

     “Bold of you to assume I would say yes,” Spencer answered.

     “You would’ve said yes,” you teased, nudging his shoulder.

     “Not if I beat you to it.” 

     Spencer got down on one knee, grabbing your hand.

     “(Y/n) (Y/l/n), will you make me the happiest man at this reception—barring Shayne—and go out with me?”

     You laughed at the fake proposal. “Yes, Spencer. I will go out with you.”

     He stood up, kissing you softly. 

    “I’ll be expecting another one of those in 10 years,” you said. 

     “I’ll be counting down the days,” Spencer smiled. 

     Amanda walked passed you then, shaking her head as she thought aloud. 

     “First kisses,” she muttered. “Never gets old.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~°~❦~°~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

ˋ°•*⁀➷ ahh i hope you guys enjoyed this!! like i said, trevor hcs coming soon. watch out for another spencer fic in the works!! 🎀🍒

[emacrow]

Danny wasn't the first to be contaminated with ectoplasm. Jazz was.

Thus contant angst and some gore. Viewer be advised.

Born and raised as a fenton without miraculously being effected by ecto while Jack and Maddie wear hazmut suits most the time up to her teen years would take a miracle.

Jazz knew she was effected by ectoplasm since she was a little girl, taking care of danny as a toddler and trying to make sure her brother doesn't eat the glowing green liquid in the freeze.

She didn't want him to get sick like she did... making sure the gadgets stay out of his line of sight.

He was innocent and too young to notice how ne-neglect her parents were being over their obsession of ghosts.

She was infected enough to see the tiny fading blobs flying around but never mentioned to her parents again after last time, and her parent stay in the basement for almost a week and half that time and missing Danny's birthday again.

Jazz was smart though, reading about psychology books far higher in intelligence then her age, and knew enough about the inventions that Jack made gave her an idea..

A terrible but brilliant idea to bring this family together, so danny could have the best childhood memories then hers..

She began sabotage some of their works to jam and malfunction, making some of their work papers as proof seem crazy to be denied so they actually spent time with her and danny as a Family and it was working well enough for years,....

Until the ghost portal work that day..

Then the ghosts coming out of it causing havoc which renew her parents obsession back from the very grave she has surely made they were buried...

Then finding her brother.. her sweet little brother had died and came back due to her sabotaging the portal with the turn on button being inside...

Something inside her crack a bit.

Helping him and distracting her parents was going well enough. Stealing the ecto shot to help her brother heal from the battles of facing the ghosts, red hunter, GIW and her parents. This was all her fault that she knew deep within..

Until Danny (her sweet little brother that she raise, care for, love)went missing during the middle of his sick day with no ghosts being out today when she decide to go get chicken soup from the store..

She should've seen it sooner when she came back and seen Danny's bed empty with spot mixed of ectoplasm and blood, dropping the chicken soup package from the store ..

Their parents loved them that she knew as she grabbed the fenton creep bat..

But she knew since she was a little girl..

Opening the basement door quietly, slowly and walking down the stairs without making a noise.

That they love their work more.

Her eyes burned with burning fierce firey green glow of pure rage and determination as she creep slowly aiming, as she swung the fenton creep hard on the back of Jack's head with a sickeningly crack, then next quickly hitting Maddie hard in the face as she knew they both won't listen to reason..

She know that would only buy her enough time consider Jack was a hard head, but maddie was out for good measurement. Taking the keys to the ecto shackles.

She know that if she were to cry, she will not stop crying if she did. Unshackling Danny's limbs, and pressing the off button on the ecto Ghost muzzle.

Checking to see if he lost any limbs or organs.. thankfully none yet...

"It's going to hurt, but we are leaving together.. ok danny?" She said with a watery tone looking into her brother's tear soaked red eyes, grabbing the ecto fishing string and a needle, giving Danny's a metal piece of material to bite on, onceshe pressed the freshly Y incision as she began to resew. Giving him a couple of Ecto-Dejecto to speed up the healing. (Pretending it was just a gash in her mind instead of seeing her brother's heart beating with a marble sized core buzzing leaking ectoplasmic mixed blood)

Once she sewed the wound up, rushing to put danny in the back of her car, getting the secretly duffle bags containing the things, New IDs, money, passports needed including a USB of the fenton portal and inventions blueprints in case anything happened(it did, it happen oh god..), rush back to the basment, press the button she had hidden in the lab to delete everything about all the information about the ghost portal and ghost files, the immediate lockdown everything including the portal in 5 minutes then self destruction meltdown minutes afterward.. afterall she did help made the lockdown, putting her own special password(She always make sure to had to backup plan to a backup plan..)

By the time she got to her car, and started driving at speed that would've gave her a police ticket, she didn't stop even when she saw the glowing ectoplasmic forced field emerged covering only the fenton house..

She didn't stop when she left the Amity Park border line.. She didn't stop when the loud ear piercing boom echoing.. she just drove to the only person in one place that would help her..

Her distant cousin twiced removed Edward Nashton whom live in Gotham.