#like gas to get there alone is insane

[bumpscosity]

too scared to go off anon but we are mutuals and i love seeing your posts about the disney rides and such. its like peeking in a window to something i know nothing about but enjoy seeing on my dash regardless

HAI MYSTERY MUTUAL!! glad ya like it! disney parks are a hyperfixation so it's always fun to post about for me :)

[my-chemical-rot]

I’m several weeks late but to celebrate finally getting my driver’s license I’m gonna spend a frankly ridiculous amount of money on a single (1) beverage

[kindlyfunkn]

we apologized when i went to get my stuff and im likely gonna stay here tonight bc its snowing and my tires traction isnt good (i had the most terrifying brief driving experience of my life). my mom went to drop off half my stuff in her car and is bringing back essential morning stuff + my charger. i really hope school is cancelled tomorrow lol bc the snow is supposed to continue all night and the morning after and id have to go on the highway. plus if schools cancelled itd be great to actually have wifi to check my email in the morning (tomorrow afternoon is when we're getting it at the new apartment)

[lolahauri]

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ It's Your Sex I Can Smell, P2

Ship: Ticci Toby/Reader

Type: Explicit Smut, F/M, Part 2/3. (MDNI)

Contains: Dom Reader, Sub Toby, Missionary Position, Handjob, Female Masturbation, Vibrators, Edging, Orgasm Control, Crying, A LOT of Teasing & Begging, Creampie, Praise, Dirty Talk, Lots of "Good Boy", Love Confession, Post-Sex Cuddling.

Words: 3k

M/M Ver: Coming Soon...

A/N: Hope this doesn't disappoint! So sorry for the wait. <3 Part 1 <-

Much to your dismay, nearly all of the shops in town were closed today. Meaning your only options for grabbing household essentials were a couple gas stations that decided to stay open on a national holiday. You weren’t happy about it at all, but you tried to look on the bright side. At least you could get home to Toby sooner, right? Now that you don’t have to browse a large grocery store. 

You moved the small bags of food to one hand and opened the door to the cabin. “Tobes! I’m home early!” you yelled out into the living room, not checking to see if he was actually still there first. “I guess it’s some kind of… holiday…?” Your voice lowered and your sentence was interrupted when you heard strange sounds coming from the opposite end of the house. 

“The fuck is that?” You thought to yourself as you set the bags on the table. It sounded like some kind of crying almost? Was Toby hurt? What could have even happened in the hour you were gone? He was literally the only one home. It couldn’t have been a cooking accident, he was eating when you left. Plus, he was clearly not in the kitchen. 

Worried someone, or something, had broken in, you moved cautiously down the hall, pocket knife in hand. You weren’t sure at first, but you knew now the sound was definitely coming from your room. But why would he be in your…

....

....

Oh!

You covered your mouth to hush the loud gasp threatening to escape. Peeking past the doorway to your room once again, you almost couldn’t believe what you were seeing. Toby, your best friend, in your bed, masturbating, and smelling your… used underwear... Jesus Christ. 

It wasn’t often you were left speechless, but this was one of the rare times you were. What had you most confused though were your own feelings. You wanted to believe it was just something between pity and disgust, but the heat spreading between your thighs told you that wasn’t all you felt. 

It was embarrassing, really. On one hand you wanted to yell at him, slap him across the face for being so fucking disgusting. But on the other, you wanted to keep watching, maybe even join him. There’s something so grossly erotic about watching him please himself with your belongings, thinking he’s alone, that he’ll get away with it and you’ll never know. 

You didn’t even realize how hard you were spaced out until you were snapped out of it by Toby’s orgasm. Your cunt throbbed suddenly, your eyes widening again. He was whimpering and crying out your name while his cum soaked your underwear. You cringed at the sight, it was both sickening and insanely arousing. As he went to remove the article from his lap, you figured now would be as good a time as any to make your presence known. You didn’t want him to get too tired before you could play with him a little. 

Walking into the room quietly, you leaned against the door frame, putting your knife back in your pocket. “Having fun, Toby? God, you’re so fucking pathetic.” You bit your lip and smiled to hold back a laugh, watching as he immediately jumped at the sound of your voice and locked eyes with you. Did he really not know you were there at all? Guess he’s not only a pervert, but fucking oblivious too. 

You could practically see the gears turning in his head as you stepped further into your room. He began sputtering out apologies and stuffing his cock back into his pants, tripping and stuttering over his words to the point you could barely understand him. He seemed so caught up in his panic he didn’t even notice that you’d turned to lock the door, now carefully stepping towards him.

“Relax, Tobes. I’m not gonna hurt you. Jesus...” You couldn't help but giggle a little, he's kind of adorable when he's scared.

Wait, what? That shut him up right away.

"U-uhm, you-you're not?" He looked and sounded both confused and cautious. Is this some kind of trick? Are you about to kill him? His heart raced as you stepped right in front of him.

"No, of course not." You took off your jacket and carefully climbed into the bed with him, straddling one of this thighs and wrapping your arms around his neck. "I wanted to join you actually. Is that okay, Toby?

Toby looks up at you in disbelief, wondering if he actually died and went to heaven. He figures this has to be a trap, there's no god damn way you're trying to fuck him right now.

But on the other hand, you definitely could've killed him already if you wanted to. You must not mean any harm. So what's the worst that could happen then? You lead him on, you don't let him cum? He would deserve that so he couldn't really complain-

"Toby? Hellooo?" He jumped at your voice, clearly unaware he was lost in thought.

"S-sorry, uh, yes? Of course!" His voice cracked a bit. He carefully put on a hand on your waist, testing the waters first. He then gazed up at you with those big brown puppy eyes, waiting for you to take the lead.

"Great. You just lay back and be a good boy then, got it?" You whispered. He obediently nodded in return, whining at the nickname.

Time for the fun to begin.

You ran your hands from his shoulders all the way down his torso, just barely feeling the muscles and scars on his body through his sweatshirt. His breathe becoming shaky the further you trailed down south, the anticipation making every hair on his body stand up. By the time your fingers reached the waistband of his boxers, he was nearly squirming under your touch.

His jeans were still unbuttoned and barely covered his growing bulge, leaving him to be easily accessed. You held one hand on his hip to keep him still, and let the other move to his cock, gently palming him through his boxers. A relieved sigh slipped past Toby's lips as his cock jumped at the sensation.

An uncomfortable ache spread between your legs the longer you played with his cock. Squeezing your thighs together was no longer providing any relief, but you just couldn't stop teasing him. Every little noise that came from him made a spark of electricity shoot through you, and the feeling of his cock non-stop twitching and throbbing under your palm only made you want more.

You could sense you weren't the only one feeling impatient though when he started bucking his hips up to meet your touch. Toby let out a strangled moan as you ghosted your fingers over his tip, feeling that it'd already begun leaking precum, leaving a small wet patch on his underwear.

"Please..." His voice was barely above a whisper, moving his hips up again to press into your hand.

"Mm-mm." You shook your head at him and removed your hands from his bulge. "None of that. Stay still and tell me what you want."

He whined in discomfort, covering his reddening face with his hands, already struggling with the loss of contact. "Plea- please..." Is all he managed to get out. "God, this is embarrassing" he thought.

" 'Please' what? C'mon, be a good boy and use your words." Hands now tracing along the waistband of his underwear. His only response was a groan in frustration, trying again to thrust up, only to be met with you pinning him down harder with both hands. "Listen, I'm not going to say it again, Toby. Tell me what you want, or you're not getting anything at all." 

"Ughh. Fuck, just-just touch me. Please, anything. Need... need more." He was tossing and turning underneath you, getting increasingly antsy and impatient

"That's all I needed to hear." Before he could whine in annoyance at your condescension, you'd already dipped your hand back into his pants. Only this time instead of more teasing, you fully pulled his cock out and brought his pants down just enough to leave him fully out on display. He wasn't the only one craving more.

The cool air hitting his blazing hot skin made him shiver, but you were quick to start warming him up. You gently wrapped a hand around Toby's cock as you knelt between his legs, stroking him at an agonizingly slow pace. He didn't complain yet though, he was just happy you were touching him at all.

After a few slow pumps of his cock, you stopped to tease his tip, smearing the precum dribbling out and using it as lube as you continued. Toby's face was flushed and sweaty when you started to pick up the pace, jerking him off just quick enough to not be too teasing, but still not enough to bring him to the edge. Just what you wanted.

"F-faster..." He begged, huffing and gripping the bed sheets.

"You want more?" You smirked when he nodded his head eagerly. "Okay, what's the magic word?"

Normally he would've been pissed off at you for talking to him like that, mocking and taunting him, but right now, any shame he had was long gone. He was willing and ready to do any and every thing you asked of him.

"P-lease! Pleasee go faster!" His voice strained, body twitching underneath you. The constant flow of whimpers makes your cunt throb painfully, but you aren't done playing yet. You're just getting started.

"That's it, good boy, good boy." You leaned your head down a bit to spit on his aching cock, immediately earning a high-pitched moan from him. You started jerking him off at a fast pace, letting your other hand move down to cup his balls. He gasped as you began to gently massage and rub them, feeling almost overwhelmed with pleasure.

He whimpers your name and grips your arms tightly, "I'm- I'm getting s-soo close. Holyy shit"

"Yeah? You wanna cum?"

"Fuuck yess, please let me cum." He sounded so cute and pathetic you almost considered letting him. But unfortunately for him, you're not done yet.

"Mm, I don't think so." The hand that was stroking his cock slowed to a full stop before you pulled both of them away. He whimpered at the sudden loss of contact and looked at you with half lidded eyes, looking like a sad little puppy.

"W-why?" Was all he could get out, his voice sounding so weak and defeated.

"Oh come on, you already came once today. I should be able to have some fun too, don't you think?." He looked away and blushed, feeling guilty and embarrassed. You shuffled out from between his legs and moved further down the bed.

"Tell you what," You started to pull your t-shirt off, "I'll let you watch. And maybe if you behave I'll let you touch yourself too. How's that sound?"

Toby's eyes were glued to your tits the entire time you spoke, but eventually he stuttered out an agreement. He couldn't deny that he had definitely fantasized about watching you masturbate before. He'd be crazy to not take you up on this offer.

You then slowly pulled down your shorts and panties, trying not to giggle as you watched him follow your every move, practically drooling in anticipation.

When you were finally undressed, you leaned back on one arm, spreading your legs and letting Toby see the mess he made of you already. His cock jumped at the sight of your glistening cunt, whining a little under his breathe.

"Tobes, open my nightstand and toss me my vibrator." He listened straight away, doing it as fast as possible, so eager to watch.

You started on the lowest setting first to tease yourself a little, wanting to last as long as possible and give Toby a real good show. The toy buzzed lightly as you slowly ran it up your pussy, wetting it with your juices.

A relieved sigh escaped you when the toy finally reached your neglected clit. Despite being fully exposed to the rooms chilly air, your skin was on fire. Waves of tingling heat washing over you.

You slowly rubbed it in tight circles, watching Toby the entire time. He was anxiously shifting in his seat, wanting so desperately to join you, but he knew he had to wait for your approval. He looked so cute sitting there waiting for your command. God, how you wanted him to just crawl on top of you fuck you right then.

That wouldn't be a punishment, though. You'll have to let him take lead next time.

Your cunt clenched around nothing as you lowered your gaze to his cock, imagining how it'd feel inside you. He's big. It'd probably stretch you out real good. Fuck, this is going way too slow for your liking. You needed more.

You inhaled sharply as you turn the vibration speed up, setting it at medium. "Shit..." You rubbed your clit in long, slow strips. It was getting hard to stay slow, you wanted to cum so bad, but you tried to hold out as long as possible.

"You wanna join, Toby?" Looking into his eyes, you could already tell the answer.

"Ye-yes please." He replied so cautiously, yet he was quick to grab his aching cock. He started to jerk himself off like he was in a rush, way too fast to not cum soon.

"Hey, slow down. Stay with me, 'kay?" You said as sternly as you could at the moment. But you had to admit your confidence was faltering at bit.

Toby nodded and slowed down, his breathing getting shaky and ragged as he stared at your cunt, watching your juices drip onto the sheets. He felt so hot and dizzy. All he wanted was to be inside you. He couldn't stop the whimpers that came out after each stroke of his cock. He sounded like he was about to cry.

And that only turned you on more.

You clicked your vibrator one last time, putting it on the highest setting and rubbing yourself faster. You cursed and moaned as you swiped the toy across your clit over and over and over. The muscles in your thighs and abdomen started to tense up. An intense pressure rapidly building up. You were going to cum at any minute, you couldn't stop it now.

Toby was feeling the exact same way, listening to your pretty moans as he watched you fuck yourself was making him lose his god damn mind. He started begging you to let him finish too, he couldn't handle anymore edging. He might actually start sobbing if you deny him again.

"Can I cum wi-with you? Please? Please, please, please!" His voice cracked and wavered, small tears brimming his eyes.

You were seconds away from your climax now, but you still didn't let up, "No-no fucking way! Don't you -oh fuck- don't you dare fucking cum. Wait till- till you're inside."

You could barely get your sentence out before cumming all over your vibrator. The feeling hit you like a train, like you were about to pass out from the intensity and exhaustion. You nearly screamed from the pleasure, quickly becoming overstimulated as you rode out your orgasm.

When it was over, you felt limp, barely able to keep yourself propped up. Damn. Guess you will have to let Toby take it from here. You've probably punished him enough anyway, why not give him a treat?

You lazily tossed your vibrator onto the floor, calling Toby's name and catching his attention immediately. The look on his face made your heart jump.

Oh, poor baby. His eyes were so glossy with tears, panting from being worked up so much. But what a good boy he was, listening to your every word. He's definitely earned this.

You spread your legs open again, beckoning him to come forward. "C'mere baby, finish inside me, you earned it."

He didn't wait a second to jump at the opportunity, not wanting to wait and have you change your mind. He crawled on top of you and wasted no time slipping himself inside.

You both gasped at the intrusion, his big cock stretched you out perfectly, and his eyes were rolling back at how fucking tight and soaked you were. He didn't even have to wait to start pounding into you like an animal, he slid right in and fucked you with ease.

Toby knew he wasn't going to last long, so he savored this feeling as long as he could. He buried his face into your neck, moaning after each thrust, slamming into you as hard and fast as he physically could.

He was falling apart quickly though, the way your walls squeezed around him left him breathless. He gripped onto the sheets tightly and sunk his teeth into the tender flesh of your throat. Not hard enough to bleed, but enough to make you gasp and tighten around him. You felt so good he couldn't believe it.

He wished this could last forever, but he just couldn't hold off any longer, feeling the pressure of his long-awaited orgasm sneak up on him already. He moved his hands off of your sheets and snaked his arms underneath you and around your torso, pulling you into a tight embrace before he came.

His thrusts became sloppy and erratic as he reached his climax, now completely unable to hold back all his pretty little noises. His exhausted body trembled as he came deep inside you, crying into your neck and muttering "i love you" over and over again. He stayed inside until he was totally spent, trying to cock warm you as long as could.

It took all of his willpower to finally pull out of you, he wished he could relish in the feeling of being inside you forever. But for now, cuddling your sweaty, equally tired self would have to do.

He collapsed next you and pulled you back into his chest, refusing to let go of you even to clean up, insisting you wait until morning to shower together.

And you accepted that, too tired to argue back as you felt sleepiness take over, quietly dozing off with his strong arms wrapped around you.

~

A/N: Thanks for reading! I luv you all! (❁´◡`❁)

[anundyingfidelity]

OUT OF MIND — Soldier Boy/Ben

Summary: Ben believes he's alone in the lab, that you're just a product of his imagination and insanity. Is not like that, you're more real than he ever thought.

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x female reader.

Word count: 1.3k.

Warnings: sexual content, p in v, blowjobs, handjobs, heavy non-con (such as reader taking advantage of Ben), nudity, some angst, mentions of torture and being unconscious.

Note: *another one* this is part of @artyandink Jensen's drabble marathon (if it can't be due to the content of this is totally okay tho!) Anyway hope you like this dark piece of crap I had on my drafts because I could never write a long fanfic ever again, I'm taking so damn long to write.

☕ if you like my writing, support me with a ko-fi !

GEN MASTERLIST!

taglist is here!

The last doctor left, metal door closing behind his back, leaving you all alone with the man lying down in a too uncomfortable stretcher, hands and ankles tied.

The doctor's instructions were clear. He didn't care what you'd do to the experiment in the room. No one cared. As much as a scientist you were yourself, you stayed until late, admiring the former hero at your complete mercy, with nowhere to go or a voice to yell for help. Not that he might needed though.

The room was cold as you paced to remain by his side. His chest going up and down, eyes closed as he slept thanks to the dosis of gas you always administered before taking the tests of his blood and getting into the good part: the torture.

Tens of scientists and doctors stepped the lab to test his strength and powers, gifting him of endurance and new abilities along the way. You were one of them. And this was your price for making him indestructible instead of killing him, switching completely the main objective of the reds. You never really talked to Soldier Boy, more than just the silent moans and gasps leaving your mouth when you actually got into business. Ninety nine percent of the time he was unconscious under the effects of the gas, but he did caught you on top of him a couple of times, or just sucking him off until he was hard in your mouth. The only thing further than talking was his green eyes staring at you, just as he woke up from the slumber. But that made it a thousand times better.

With your fingertips, you traced his bare arm. The skin hot against your hand, finding the way up to his muscular chest, and then down his stomach, stopping right above his crotch. Your mind started wandering all over with the past memories of you and him inside that same lab room.

It was wrong, but you couldn't stop.

You've done this countless of times, what was with doing it again? Besides, he was a piece of shit of a man as far as you knew, using women as appliances and then tossing them like garbage once he was bored. You had to have fun too. Your hand went under his pants, softly playing with his shaft, as your free one went to brush away the mess his hair was doing on his forehead, so delicately.

His cock grew hard thanks to your touch, jerking him off smoothly. It only made you yearn for him more, the wetness between your legs increasing as you rubbed your thighs together to feel some friction that could relief you for a moment.

You pushed your skirt up and took off your panties, completely desperate to feel him inside you. But before you pulled his pants down enough to free his dick, ans you leaned down to take the tip of his cock between your lips, sucking him just right to earn a somewhat loud gasp from his throat. You took him deeper in your mouth, soaking his shaft with your saliva and stroking with your hand what couldn't fit.

Just as you tasted some pre cum, you pulled back and climbed on top of him, straddling his thighs and lining his cock with your cunt, rubbing yourself on his length. You moaned softly sinking down on him, your tight, wet walls engulfing his dick, until your ass met the hot skin of his thighs. His cock twitched inside you as you rolled your hips in slow, deep movements, that soon became desperate. Biting your lip, you unbuttoned your blouse and pushed your bra down. Quickly, you held on his chest with the palms of your hands, riding him.

Soldier Boy brows furrowed, his breathing became unsteady as much as yours. Sometimes he looked like he would wake up in any minute, but he wasn't really able to. The features on his beautiful face used to change as you had your way with him because it was natural, and you loved to be in control. The only thing you'd regret was his big hands not being put into good use because of the restraints around them. You were so close to your climax that you wished he could bury his nails on your ass and mark it red while you're bouncing on his cock. Maybe someday you'd do it the right way. But not right now. Control suited you and you liked being on top anyway, playing with your tits at your own pace as they bounced with every thrust.

His cock met the deepest parts inside your pussy and you played with your clit and your folds, reaching sweet release and coating his cock with your juices. You continued the steady rhythm of your hips, going for a second orgasm, his dick throbbing so hard you would just fuck him until he spilled inside.

You let out a raspy moan as he came, filling you up and triggering your climax again, thighs shaking. You recovered your breathe, feeling his cock softening inside your pussy. His brows went back to normal, but you felt his heart still racing. Shifting on top of his cock, you reach his bearded cheek, caressing his features.

"I wish I could see underneath all this," you mumbled. "But I'm afraid you'll wake up for real and kill me."

You smirked just a little at the thought. Probably he'd just agree to fuck you if he was awake and back to his old self again, not drugged, not put into sleep. He was the perfect toy nonetheless.

But then, his eyes fluttered open softly. He thought it was just his mind playing tricks on him, watching your face as the bright, white lights iluminated the room. Soldier Boy often believed you were a ghost from his twisted mind, that there was something inside his mind tormenting him to the point he was being used for sexual pleasure by an unknown entity. But your touch, the heat of your body, and your weight over his own told him otherwise. You were fucking real, straddling his lap, with his dick buried balls deep in your tight cunt, tits out and messy hair and lab coat. Soldier Boy groaned, hands clenching into fists.

He spent so much time, decades, inside those concrete walls that there was this primal need inside that couldn't be met. And you were there to make it true from time to time, even if he wanted it or not.

"Good morning, sunshine," you mocked when he tried to free his wrists, but was too weak to do so. "The gas effect is fading away I see."

He grunted as you pulled off from him, climbing down to fix your clothes and putting your panties back. Soldier Boy tried to scream, but his throat was sore; he had to fight the restrains on his limbs, however it was useless. He was so powerless and fragile for a moment.

"Shhh, it's okay," you whispered, putting your hand on his forearm. He looked at you with a mixture of fear and rage. "You're gonna be okay. I always take care of you," you smiled as the stretcher began to shake while he tried to set himself free. "Now don't try it, you're a good boy. Aren't you?"

Soldier Boy groaned like a scolded puppy once you combed his hair with your fingers.

"You've been here for a long time, and no one has ever taken such good care of you as I do," you said, leaning down until your lips were close enough to his ear. "So you better obey me and keep being a good bitch for me."

Once you pulled back, he got the perfect close up of your face before you turned around and left the room, the sound of your heels echoing before the metal door finally closed. In less than five minutes, the chamber was filled with novichok.

Before sleeping again, Soldier Boy knew it was real.

The woman fucking him on his dreams and living nightmares was so damn real.

Soldier Boy taglist

@delaynew

@k-slla

@thesilmarillionblog

@onlyangel-444

@mrsjenniferwinchester

@daisy-the-quake

@jackles010378

@mostlymarvelgirl

@deans-spinster-witch

@drasticemotions

@stoneyggirl2 @sapnaploves

@believeinthefireflies95

[latenightdaydreams]

Omg girl please do part three for the trucker!!!

Love your writing

Here it isssss!!!! Thank you!🥹

Trucker!König x Stranded!Reader Part3 (fem)

MDNI🔞

Part 1, Part 2, Part4, Part5

Master List

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Hello again🥰 Like parts one and two, three requires a strong trigger warning. I love you all and hope you're having a good day. Stay safe and take care of yourselves🩷

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>cw: fem/afab, non-con, oral, breeding, drugging, p in v

2.3k word count

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It’s been two months that you’ve been with König, 10 weeks to be exact. You’ve gotten into the routine of gas station breaks and over nights at the motel. You’ve learned to not fight him after a few bad incidents. He lets you wash yourself now, but he has to watch. He’s traded zip ties for soft handcuffs while you sleep. When you do bathroom breaks, he lets you go into the woman’s side alone, without the cuffs and during the day time. A small taste of freedom.

You sit on the bed in the back of his truck's cab, arms bound and looped through the metal on the bed so you can’t move. König stopped at a gas station to fill up. You sit and look at all of the people walking past. If only they knew you were here. If only they could help.

König buys you a honey bun, turkey sandwich, water, and a soda. He has become soft on you, in his own twisted way. He enjoys treating you, and he’s learned that you have a sweet tooth. He pays at the register and smiles at the young woman. For once he doesn’t look at someone like her in a predatory way, he has you. You fill the hunger.

König walks to the side and opens your soda. He pours two crushed up sleeping pills into the bottle, knowing that you’ll probably drink this first. He has a drop off coming up and he refuses to take any chances of you escaping.

He walks back to the truck and you perk up. He smiles down at you and holds up the bag of goodies.

“I got treats for you Maus.” König sits in the driver’s seat and takes things out of the bag before standing to take your hands away from the bar so you could eat, still handcuffed though.

“Thank you…” You say in a weak voice.

“When you’re done with that, I have a soda and honeybun for you.” He sits and begins to open his own food and eat.

You smile, food has become your only form of comfort throughout all of this. Just sweet things. It’s almost like you get to be back home for those few moments while you’re eating. The better you behave, the more treats König buys.

You both sit in silence as you eat. He hands you the soda to take drinks from. You thank him as you finish your sandwich.

“Ready for your honey bun?”

“Yes, please.” You look to his blue eyes as he smiles at your submission.

You continue to drink your soda as you eat. You zone out and look out the window, starting to feel tired. You yawn, shaking your head to try and wake yourself up. Looking back at König, you’re blinking slowly. Realizing you were drugged you begin to panic.

“Why?” Your eyelids have become insanely heavy and it’s hard to focus.

“Just for a stop, Maus. I just don’t want you to run away. You’ll be safe.” His voice was oddly soothing.

“I- I wouldn’t.” You begin to struggle to stay awake, your speech slurred and body heavy. You simply can’t fight the pills.

König approaches you and grabs the almost empty soda bottle out of your hand and the half-eaten honey bun; he wraps it up to save it for you. He gently lays you back on the bed and covers your body under the blanket. He hides your hands under so no one could possibly see that you’re handcuffed.

After his drop off, König sits in the driver’s seat using his phone; the truck is blocked off and locked for sleep. He’s moving money from his subscription page, where he has been posting your videos, to his bank account. He looks over at you occasionally, admiring how adorable you look asleep.

He is planning on taking a long break and bringing you to his house. He wants to show you your new home, your new life. Plus, he’s always wanted to settle down and have a family. You seem like you’d be a perfect mom. At the very least you’d make beautiful babies for him.

Standing, he approaches you and speaks softly, “Y/n, you awake?” He shakes your leg slightly. He’s just making sure the sleeping pills are still working. 

Grabbing his phone out of his pocket, he drops his pants to the floor. His erection springs from his boxers. He kneels next to the bed and pulls your sweat pants down and looks at your stubbly pussy, brushing his fingers over the texture before pulling your bottoms off all the way.

Spreading your legs apart, he gently kisses down your soft thighs. Kissing over the bitemarks he left from the last time he was down here. Deciding to not record this, he wants to make it a more intimate moment. He is starting to fall in love with you, and sex isn’t just for profit anymore.

He continues to kiss your soft thighs; it’s been two days since you’ve showered so your pussy smells divine. As he gets closer, he takes deep breaths through his nose to completely breathe you in. Finally, his lips meet your sweet warmth. He kisses gently up and down before pressing his face in, burying his nose deep into your lips.

“So süß…” He mutters to himself.

He pulls back and rubs his fingers up and down your pussy, listening to the mushy wet sound. Slipping two fingers into your cunt, he moves back to your pussy and begins to lick your clit gently. He knows you’re asleep, but he still wants to pleasure you. His other hand on his cock, stroking it quickly. He’s been waiting all day to feel you.

Once your pussy becomes creamy wet, he pulls his fingers out and licks them. Your natural musk all over his face. Grabbing your panties, he wipes his face off on them and keeps them in his hand. He pulls his pants off his ankles and moves on top of you. Moving your left leg with his hand to give himself space to rest his body on top of you. The space is very small for a normal sized person, for someone 6 '10, it’s almost impossible; but he finds a way.

Sliding his cock inside of you easily, he’s learned the right ways to touch your body and to make you relax enough to take him without struggle. He whimpers pathetically as he feels your wet cunt wrap around him. He rests his full weight on you and wraps one of his arms around you tightly, burying his head into the crook of your neck and bringing his hand holding your panties up so he can continue to breathe you in.

“I’m going to cum Maus.”

As his hips begin to thrust quickly, he moans out your name. His body enveloping yours completely, moving his head from your panties to kiss your neck. Moaning into you as his pace picks up. His balls slapping against your ass hard as he squeezes you tightly in his arms. He lets out a loud moan, shoving your panties into his mouth to muffle the sound as he cums deep inside of you.

Panting hard, he continues to just rest there; not wanting to let go of you. He pulls your panties from his mouth and kisses your cheek softly. Lifting his body off of you, he pulls out, savoring the little pop sound your cunt always makes. König looks down at his cum leaking out of you and uses a finger to shove it back in. He dresses you again and then himself. Putting his phone away, he gets ready to go to sleep.

When you wake up König is already driving again. Your head feels groggy from the pills he snuck into your drink. You look out the window and have to squint because of the sun shining brightly through the windows.

Hearing you stir, König looks over his shoulder and smiles at you. “Guten Morgen, meine Liebe.”

“My head hurts,” you say in a sleepy voice that makes his heart warm. “And I have to pee.”

König chuckles and nods his head, “We will be stopping soon. You can get out and use the bathroom. We can also get you a treat, whatever you want.”

“Thank you…”

“So, I’ve been thinking, maybe it’s time we take a break from the road and I take you home.”

The thought of being taken to his home makes your stomach drop. Everyday on the road you see small chances of possibly running away, an odd sense of freedom when you go to the rest stop. What if you never leave the house again? That would be your final stop.

“And maybe it’s time we think about children, I’ve always wanted a big family.”

His voice shatters your internal thoughts as you look up at him with panic. Technically, you’ve been having unprotected sex already, but he never cums in you, so you think. The thought of having his children, let alone this mans, makes you feel terrified and sick to your very core. Death would be kinder than being his breeding slave. You don’t respond, just zoning out and it catches König’s attention.

“Something wrong Maus?”

“N-no,” you think quickly on your toes, “I guess I just never saw myself having kids.”

“No? You’d be a wonderful mother. You’d make beautiful children, especially with my sperm.”

That just grosses you out.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be a good father.”

How can you be when you’ve kidnapped and assaulted their would be mother? You think to yourself trying to suppress the new waves of anxiety this talk is giving you. You decide to try and change topics.

“I’m sorry to be whiny, but I really have to pee.”

“Ja, ja, okay.” König drives on just a little while longer before turning off into the first rest stop he sees. He parks the semi before standing and approaching you. He grabs your shoes for you and kneels down looking at your beautiful face. His Maus.

“Remember the rules. Eyes down, don’t talk to anybody, in and out. Then we can pick out a treat and head back home.”

Home. Hell.

“I remember.” You nod your head as he helps you put your shoes on.

He reaches into his pants pocket and pulls out the key to your cuffs. He unlocks you and the scars from the zip ties are still visible. He combs your hair back with a small purple comb to make sure you look presentable. There are always odd people here, so not many questions get asked anyway.

You finally step out of the truck, König’s fingers intertwined with yours as you walk. The hot sun on your skin makes you feel so alive, like you’re real. König stands there for a while and lets you take in its warmth before he tugs your arm for you to follow him.

You both walk inside and an older woman greets you both. König responds, but you keep your head down like you were told. He walks you to the bathroom and whispers in your ears.

“Remember, in and out. Quick.”

You nod in understanding and step into the restroom. Freedom. You rush into a stall and begin to pee hard, letting out a sigh of relief as you relax your shoulders and slump forward. You linger for a while before you wipe, any little small thing that you can do to extend your time alone you do.

Stepping out to wash your hands, you hear the door open and see an old lady with a cane walk in. She smiles at you kindly and you smile back before she goes into a stall. You want to ask for help, but she’s so old you’re scared she wouldn’t understand.

You dry your hands as the bathroom door opens again and as it lingers open, you can hear so many voices talking. You wonder what’s going on as you leave the bathroom.

Opening the door, you’re surrounded by a sea of older people waiting to go in. They just got off a bus for a rest break. You look over at König and see him a little bit away from you as the rude older people push their way past him. His eyes on you like a hawk. You stand there for a while, between the door to freedom, and going back to König. You could ask for help here, but what if he really kills all these innocent people?

König is currently cut off by at least 5 people, meaning he would have to go around then to hurry to you. You saw buildings on your way here, so you could possibly just run until you reach safety. Run and lose him so you can safely call for help.

This feels like it’s been an hour of thinking when really only five seconds pass. Looking at König still, you turn and run. The fastest you’ve ever ran in your life, catching the attention of everyone, not just König.

Running out of the door and heading towards the road, you just let your fight or flight carry you away.

König’s heart sinks as he sees you do that; you’ve been so well behaved he almost can’t believe you’d do this to him. With no care, he barrels through the line of people and goes out the door after you. Everyone at the stop is confused as they watch two people run in what looks like a chase.

König’s massive body is running after you at full speed, trying to catch up to you quickly before anyone can call for help or you can reach safety.

“MAUS!” He shouts after you.

You can hear his booming voice as you run, you don’t stop. You know if you do, he will catch you. There is no telling what an angry König would do. Tears begin to stream down your face as you run, your heart beat pounding in your ears. A little voice telling you to just keep going, don’t stop.

Part 4

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Tag: @nachofriess

[erodasfishtacos]

Melt Your Cold Heart

prompt: harry’s been alone for years. a bland, bleak life where he needs nothing but his dog then he stumbles upon someone who gives him a purpose…even if for a few hours. word count: 8k

warnings: heavy angst, emotionally unavailable harry, suicidal/depressive thoughts, mental health struggles, mentions of trauma, discussion of sex work

authors note:

There is 3 more parts to this up on patreon (and currently being updated this month!).

I upload a piece of writing every 1-3 days.

I recently started a second tier called The OG Tier where 3 mini one shots (1-4kish) are posted a week.

There are currently 350 + pieces available to read

Tier I - $3 USD where you get access to main stories, everything except the mini one shots.

Tier II - $5 USD where you get access to every piece of writing!

you can check it out here!

++++++++

Harry hadn’t wanted to pull over but it was impossible to continue on the highway without potentially causing an accident.

The snow was coming down hard enough that it was a white sheet, the high speed winds were making it to be a tornado of pure smokescreens that made it impossible for his windshield wipers to work.

The semi-truck had eighteen wheels but they were all at risk of hydroplaning or losing grip on the layers of black ice that covered the asphalt without a second thought.

With such a heavy piece of equipment, he didn’t have to only look out for himself but anybody else on the road because one wrong judgment call could turn the semi into a weapon of destruction.

It meant that he was going to be at least twelve hours behind on his delivery which was making him on-edge as it was because he hated having to deal with the dickhead client that he was delivering to.

The town he stopped in was small, nothing to note, and not unsimilar to the towns he had stayed in before in his twelve years on the road.

A small Midwest town that had a truck stop with a twenty-four hour gas station, a diner that was already closed for the night, and a pavilion of bathrooms for truck drivers to clean off.

It was just about midnight when he parked his rig, taking off his baseball cap and running his hand through his hair, it was getting long and he was due for trim next time he was home but fuck, he was tired.

He never really stopped working, constantly moving across state lines and delivery shipments as a self-employed hauler - he was his own boss and he pushed himself like no boss would (who wouldn’t want to be violating labor laws).

This wasn’t one of the nicer stops.

The buildings were outdated, looking like they hadn’t been renovated since the eighties, and that was being generous.

The parking lot lights were flickering like in a horror movie, not that it frightened Harry, he has dealt with his fair on the road, and has seen a lot of things that he would have preferred not to.

It’s why he always carried, just on his hip, in case.

He would wait until the next stop to shower, at one of the more luxurious, updated places where the showers were actually decent, there was privacy, and it didn’t feel like bathing in a back alley.

For now, he just needed the restroom and a drink.

The bathrooms were just as foul as he expected, washing his hands with extra hot water to give himself a sense of cleanliness before he’s trailing over to the gas station next door.

The wind was insane, blowing the snow directly into his face, and sticking to his eyelashes.

His eyes burned with the freezing temperatures, blinking harshly as he tucks his head down until a warm gust of air hits his face as he enters the building. The lights were blindingly fluorescent and he had to adjust for a minute after driving in the dark for hours by now.

There was an older man at the counter, sitting on a stool and watching a static-filled rerun on a small television next to the register, and his skin was a sickly yellow, most likely from working the graveyard shift for far too long.

The man nods in acknowledgement but doesn’t take his eyes off the screen.

Harry walks towards the back, towards the line of coolers to grab something to drink, a soda that he normally didn’t drink but he was craving carbonation, he hadn’t eaten yet today.

He was definetly a bit too skinny.

Truck drivers were normally the opposite, out of shape, and overweight from lack of movement.

They were sat in trucks all day, every day with nothing to do but snack.

Harry was the opposite, though he was too lean, he took pride in his appearance and maintained his muscle from strapping down, unloading, and all the physical work of the job that he did himself (unlike most drivers).

He did not eat well, he knew that but found it hard to care.

Harry was in a slump, he had been for the last few years.

With being on the road, missing all major holidays, and never sticking around one place enough to settle down - he was depressed, an understatement but no one was around to listen or care.

He was alone, truly, and at some point, that had become comfortable to him.

Harry went through the motions, driving, hauling, delivering, sleeping, and repeating it over and over again.

The only thing he had was a Fire Bird (Birdie) his cattle dog who was named after his favorite car growing up, one that had been in his grandfather’s shed, and was only taken out on the town on very special occasions.

Birdie kept him sane, gave him a reason to get his ass moving every morning, and to take breaks because though he was convinced that his dog was the laziest bag of bones. Every few hours, she required a field, her ball, and Harry throwing it for her for at least twenty minutes before she passed out on the passenger seat for a few hours.

It was his routine.

Their routine.

He had found when she was a puppy.

Some trucker at a stop in Milwaukee had left the pup in the field next to the lot after she’d chewed through one of his seats.

She was malnourished, overheated, and covered in fleas.

Harry had never had a dog on the road, never thought it practical but the first time he had seen this spotted puppy with the saddest brown eyes and its tail wagging timidity on the ground.

Well it was the first time Harry had felt anything in a long time.

That was eight years ago, Birdie was a bit slower now, a gray coating her muzzle, and an attitude of a spoiled queen.

A lot more days than Harry would like to admit, she’s what keeps him going because it’s definitely not work or the money.

Harry had a hefty sized bank account from all his hard work but it sat and sat, he never spent it on anything but bare necessities so it continued to stack and stack which wasn’t a bad thing but it was nothing that brought him excitement.

It wasn’t the dream life of a thirty-three year old.

Harry had grabbed a coke before snagging a bag of overpriced jerky off the nearest display - he can’t remember the last time he ate something that wasn’t heavily processed.

There was a girl in the store too.

Harry had just caught the slightest glimpse of her as she stood by a cooler on the other side of the store, browsing the energy drinks.

She was out of place.

Harry hadn’t seen a car parked in the lot, only two other semis, and she wasn’t a truck driver by the look of her outfit.

It wasn’t weather appropriate at all.

Not for winter in the Midwest.

The woman had on a fitted black dress, it wasn’t overly fancy but it hugged every inch of her body, and high heels of all things.

Harry wonders if she was with one of the other drivers.

He doesn’t pay much mind to her until she faces him, a purple can in her hand, and she’s noticeably pretty, more so than average.

Harry wasn’t trying to be an asshole but women who hung around these areas weren’t typically most attractive.

This woman was.

Albeit the makeup she had on was too much, thick eyelashes, her blush too heavy, and a rouge lip that contrasted the complexion of her skin in an off-putting way.

Her heels click as she steps over to the counter, putting the drink on the counter, along with a protein bar, and rifling through a small purse on her shoulder.

“Eight thirty-three,” The cashier announces after scanning it, his eyes crudely running up and down the woman’s body before focusing on her face again.

The woman is rustling through her purse, pulling out crinkled bills that had been shoved carelessly in the clutch.

Harry stands a safe distance behind her, in line, watching as she smooths out the one dollar bills hastily as the cashier looks completely unamused.

“I only have five,” The girl mumbles embarrassed after she comes up empty with no more money to be found, “Can you please take off the protein bar?”

Harry doesn’t feel much often.

Tonight, he does.

A little glimmer of compassion.

But very much like himself, the girl is too skinny, not eating enough, and from what he can infer - not being able to afford food to feed herself.

“I got it,” Harry interrupts, stepping up next to the woman, and putting his stuff down aside hers, taking his wallet out of his back pocket to pluck out his bank card.

It’s the first time they make eye contact, “Oh, you really don’t have to. I’ll be okay with just the drink-“

“I’m not asking,” Harry replies curtly, tapping his card to the screen when the total rings up before tucking his wallet away and grabbing his items.

“Here,” She insists, trying to hand him the crumpled bills that she had laid on the counter, five dollars that she needed much more than him.

“Keep it,” Harry waves her off, refusing the money before walking towards the door without another look her way.

He was drawn to her.

He wouldn’t offer most, really anyone a handout - he never got one.

Harry can feel the woman’s eyes on his back as he stalks out of the station, hugging his jacket tighter against his body as he walks back to his truck to sleep for the night.

“S’fucking cold, Birdie,” Harry had complained as he locked the doors, placing up all the blinds to keep wandering eyes out.

Birdie was currently dead to the world, unbothered by his words as she snores softly from her fluffy dog bed on the floor of the cab.

Harry had just tugged off his winter jacket when he hears a knock at the driver’s side door - for a moment, he’s convinced that it’s the wind but then a few seconds later, it comes again.

“Fucks sake,” Harry grunts with annoyance, he much prefers when people leave him the fuck alone, and he has a hunch it’s the gas station cashier or another driver.

However, when he opens the door, after unlocking it, and having to use a good amount of effort to push it against the force of the wind - it’s neither.

It’s the girl from the gas station.

Her arms were wrapped tightly around her middle.

Her lips were quivering as she tried to prevent her teeth was chattering, blinking harshly through the wind up at him.

“What?” Harry asks, it wasn’t overly friendly or friendly at all.

“Are you looking for company?” The woman replies but she’s the furthest thing from confident, eyes darting around but not meeting his, “I…My rates are reasonable.”

And oh, this is what she was doing here.

Harry couldn’t tell you the amount of times that he’s had a knock on the door and been propositioned for ‘company’.

Most drivers indulged in it, they were lonely and usually away from their spouses for long spurts of time that led them to pay for the replacement.

Harry had never.

Nor did he plan to now.

As he said, this woman was fucking gorgeous, would be even more so without the cakey makeup and slinky outfit.

But he wasn’t ever going to be that lonely.

He grew up with a mom in that line of work, he felt like it was disrespectful to put a monetary price on a woman’s worth, and he had never been into casual hookups.

So yes, he would absolutely love her company but not ever under these circumstances, where she’s offering out of need and not desire.

Harry can’t remember the last time he’s had sex but the depression had killed his sex drive for the most part anyways.

He didn’t seek it out.

“No,” Harry responds flatly, not indecisiveness in his voice at all, “Not interested.”

Typically when Harry turned a proposition down, the woman wouldn’t be too thrilled whether she delivered him a ‘fuck you’ or spit on the door of his truck - that was normal response.

However, not for this girl, her face drops in a twist of embarassment and shame, and it’s also the first time someone apologizes for offering.

“I’m sorry to…to bother you. Um, have a good night. Safe travels,” She stutters out, it was obvious that she was flustered and mortified which again, made him feel just a twinge of empathy.

Harry’s about to assure her that it wasn’t a big deal but she was already turning in her heel, walking briskly back to the pavilion and disappearing inside.

He shuts his door, slumping down in his driver’s seat for a second as he rubs his hand across his face with a groan, he was too tired for this shit.

However, the thought of that girl offering her services to the other drivers or having to sleep in that dirty, run-down building wasn’t acceptable to him.

“The fuck is wrong with me,” Harry mutters to himself as he tugs his jacket back on, he never cared about any before.

Why now?

Harry’s body detests being lured back into the frigid weather, missing the warmth of his cabin instantly as he shuts the door behind him.

By the time he’s walking toward the building, the girl had disappeared inside, and wasn’t visible to him anymore.

What was he even doing?

He should turn around and go back to his truck.

But he finds himself tugging open the door, it was warmer than the outside but not by much, the heater must be in its last leg, and it was sticky - almost humid.

Harry’s nose twitched in disgust at the smell of cheap disinfectant, a half-ass cleaning job, and garbage that hadn’t been taken out soon enough.

He doesn’t see her right away, figuring he may have to go towards the women’s restroom - he follows the sign towards the back of the building.

Harry finds her, tucked into the corner of an alcove, resting against the side of a row of vending machines - smushed and hiding.

She had taken off her bag, bundling it up, and pushing it between her head and the machine to create a makeshift pillow.

Harry wishes it didn’t make his chest ache, he was so used to not feeling, and it was pissing him off that he wasn’t feeling numb to it.

Her eyes were closed but her body was tense like he knew shouldn’t couldn’t full let herself relax because she wasn’t safe.

Harry clears his throat, standing in front of her with his hands in his jacket pockets.

She startles as she hadn’t heard him approaching, bumping her head off the hard plastic of the machine covering and wincing as she tenses.

“Let’s go,” Harry waves his hand impatiently.

Yeah, his communication skills were not the best.

The woman blinks up at him in confusion, reasonably nervous as she shuffles off the floor, stumbling as she pushes herself up on a knee, uncoordinated and clumsy as she tries to get re-oriented.

Harry sighs impatiently, sticking out his hand for to take, and when she very gingerly puts her freezing cold one in his, he yanks her up to her feet with little effort - she couldn’t weigh much.

”Did you…uh,” The girl’s voice is shaky as she grabs her purse, a backpack, “Did you want to know my rates?”

Harry stops, turning back towards her, and starting to unzip his heavy, down winter coat as he shakes his, “Don’t need ‘em. I’m not interested in your services.”

The girl pauses too, swinging her backpack over her shoulder, “Why did you come get me then?”

Harry doesn’t make eye contact as he shoves his jacket unceremoniously towards her, “Put this on.”

She accepts it but doesn’t move to, “Why?”

Harry grunts out an annoyed huff, shoving his hands in jean pockets, “S’not safe for you to be sleeping in a place like this. It’s freezing in here, you’re not dressed for the weather. You can stay the night in my cab before I head out.”

YN swallows anxiously, weighing out her options before there’s a banging noise.

Someone barging through the front doors of the pavilion, a large middle-aged man that had dirty overalls on, a cigarette hanging out of his mouth, and a scraggly graying beard.

When this trucker sees the woman, he smiles like a cat who just got the cream, and doesn’t hesitate to ask in a raspy, smoker’s draw, “How much for the night, sweetheart?”

Her eyes widen in unwelcome surprise, lips twisting as she struggles to find a response.

”Um…”

”I already got ‘er,” Harry gives the man a hard, faux-possessive look (maybe it wasn’t as fake as he thought it was because he really did feel a protectiveness over her for some reason), “Tough shit.”

”Let me know if you finish with her early,” The man laughs, his gaze was predatory and foul, it made even Harry feel unsettled to just see the way he was looking at her - like an object.

“Fuck off,” Harry dismisses the man easily, though Harry was skinner than he’d prefer, his muscles were still prevelant and enough to intimidate, especially the out-of-shape man.

The girl tugs the jacket on hastily, the other trucker clearly motivating her not to stay in here.

”That’s why you shouldn’t try to sleep in here, you think he would think twice before dragging you to his truck?” Harry scolds as he steps forward, without thinking, he zips the jacket for her because the zipper can be finicky at the best times - it was old and needed replaced three winters ago at least.

”I know you could lie,” She says softly, the most she’s really said thus far, “But you’re not going to hurt me, are you?”

It was dumb question, on her end.

Why would anyone tell her the truth if their real intention was to cause her harm?

Harry really should be questioning what he’s doing.

Never once in the past has he ever taken it upon himself or felt the need to do what he was doing for this girl.

He should mind his own business and realize that she isn’t his responsibility.

“No, I’m not going to. You can get warm, get some sleep, and tomorrow at five in the morning I’m kicking you to the curb,” Harry informs her, trying to maintain the coldness that he normally keeps in his tone but he feels guilty even talking to her like that.

“Okay. I…Thank you. I’m YN, by the way,” She tells him, still shy as ever and really a contradiction to how a sex worker is - outgoing and assertive.

“Harry,” He replies as he walks them towards the exit, not looking forward to having the freezing temperatures hit the bare skin of his arms nor have the wind throwing icy clumps on snow in his face but he would take it if it meant YN stayed a bit warmer.

YN’s face pinches up when the door opens, the cold hitting her aggressively enough that her hair goes flying behind her in the wind, every which way as it tangles into a bird ‘s nest.

Harry is lucky he turns around to check on her because right as he does, she slips on a patch of ice which has her nearly falling backwards.

He grips her forearms tightly, a gnarled frown on his face as he gripes, “Who the fuck wears heels in below zero temps?”

He expects a snarky response back.

And he feels even more like a piece of shit when she tucks her chin down, mumbling an embarrassed apology as he guides her, keeping a hold of her arm.

Harry unlocks his truck, swinging open the door, and steps back, “Go ahead.”

YN hesitates for a moment, glancing back at the pavilion and seeing the truck driver from early emerge, winking at her.

She hurries inside as quickly as she can in her outfit, trying to tuck her dress to her thighs to avoid it flipping up and giving Harry a view.

Harry shuts the door behind them, locking it tightly, and double checking both side of the doors before he’s unfastening the blinds - blocking the outside world.

Last step is to put up the privacy screen along his windshield as YN keeps tucked carefully by the corner of the driver’s side.

“C’mon, I have a dog. She doesn’t like anyone but me so just leave her alone and she won’t bother you,” Harry informs her as he pushes back the curtain to his cabin, it was always spotless, and clean which was probably surprising to her.

It was a luxury sleeper, it wasn’t anything extravagant but Harry had put his savings to good use about three years ago.

A small kitchen, a dining room table that folded his bed out, and a television mounted on the wall that was usually on for background noise more than anything.

“This is really nice,” YN stands timidly in the breezeway of the front of the truck, unsure, and looking out of place.

Harry just grunts in agreement, questioning what exactly his plan was, and he grabs fresh sheets out of a small cabinet.

“You can have the bed,” Harry tells her as he strips off his sheets, they weren’t dirty but he had slept on them a few nights, “I’ll take the lounger.”

It wasn’t the most comfortable chair but he’d survive.

“No, no. I can take the chair,” YN insists sincerely with a shake of her head, her teeth still clenched as her body shook from the cold.

Harry ignores her, tugging the new fitted sheet onto the mattress, changing the pillowcases, and the comforter - he’s lucky he had a spare.

He doesn’t say anything else before gathering the comforter he’d just taken from the bed and tossing it on the lounge chair.

“Go to sleep,” Harry signals impatiently because she’s just standing there, shaking with how cold she is and he moves over to bump up the heat.

YN listens, walking slowly towards the bed, her eyes catching on Birdie’s sleeping form (who hadn’t even stirred) - what a shit guard dog.

YN sits on the edge of the bed, her hands were trembling from the cold and nerves, fingers stiff, and when she leans down to unstrap her heels - she can’t get a grip.

Harry watches for a moment before stalking over, kneeling down and wrapping his fingers around her ankle to hold of still.

YN watches him quietly as he slips the shoes from her feet, annoyance prevalent in his words as he asks pointedly, “Why the fuck would you wear these today? Do you have no self-preservation? You’re lucky you didn’t get frostbite.”

She shuts down again, like earlier when he had questioned her clothing choices, and doesn’t respond for a long second, voice soft when she does, “They’re the only pair I have.”

And…well Harry didn’t think of that.

Harry doesn’t have anything to reply with so he makes quick work of taking them off her freezing feet and she needs socks - they felt like ice under his own cold fingers.

He stands up, turning to a built in storage unit to his left as YN nervously moves to lay down, completely unsure as she lift the comforter.

“Not yet,” Harry gruffs as he digs out what he was looking for - a waffle-knit henley, a soft pair of flannel pajamas pants he never wore because he much preferred his underwear, and a pair of thick wool thermal socks, “Here. It stays relatively warm in here but it’s freezing outside. Put these on.”

“Thank you,” YN replies quietly as she stands up, without hesitation she reaches for the hem of her dress and begins to pull it up.

“Jesus,” Harry mutters as he quickly turns, giving her the privacy she deserved, rubbing a hand over the bridge of his nose.

“I’m dressed,” YN tells him after a minute of rustling as she changes into the clothes provided, “I didn’t mean to, um, make you uncomfortable. Most men want something in return, I figured you wanted to see me…change.”

Harry feels disgust seeping through him.

Not at her.

But at the deplorable men she had to be in the company of when at these types of stops.

“I told you, I don’t want shit from you. M’just trying to be a decent human being and I’d rather not see your picture on the morning news tomorrow. This is a horrible part of town,” Harry was too blunt, was constantly scolded for it during his upbringing but he never got better at it.

YN was still nervous, trembling at that as she sat down on the edge of the bed - all of the clothes were hanging off of her, the shirt slipping down her too-thin shoulder.

“I really appreciate it. I haven’t been able to sleep somewhere even half this nice without…you know, working,” YN sniffles as tears start to gather in her eyes, “I’m so tired.”

Harry feels that same tug on his heartstrings, a sensation that reminded him that he even had a beating heart.

“You’re safe. I know you just have my word but I won’t let anything happen,” Harry promises, feeding his own need to keep her safe and also make her feel that way too.

YN nods as she wipes her eyes, the makeup smearing around the edges thay has him sighing and getting up to head to the small bathroom.

He runs a clean washcloth under warm(ish) water before wringing it out.

Harry steps out to walk closer to her again, her chest was heaving as she let out emotion that Harry didn’t understand.

He doesn’t say anything - he wouldn’t even know what that would be because he hadn’t had real communication with anyone other than the other truckers on the radio for years now.

Harry is slow in his motions so that she’s not taken surprise at any point, with barey any pressure, he cups her face with one hand.

He brings the cloth up to wipe gently at the layered, tacky makeup that comes off in a thick muck, wipe after wipe.

When her face is clear of the overdone eyeshadow, harsh blush, spidery mascara clumped lashes - its startlingly how beautiful she is.

Her skin is perfect or nearly close to.

Smooth, clear, glowy in the dim light of the sleeper.

Her lips a puffy, delicate rosé pink - full and pouted.

The clean face takes at least a few years from her, that makeup had accentuated every wrinkle and crevice - aging her more than she was.

Fuck, she was pretty.

Harry tosses the cloth in his hamper, walking towards the lounge chair and kicking off his heavy, steel-toed boots.

He wasn’t obviously going to sleep in his briefs tonight and he had just handed her his only pair of pajama pants.

It wouldn’t be the first time he’d slept in his jeans nor the last, some nights he was too tired to strip them off before collapsing in bed.

“Goodnight, thank you,” YN murmurs after a mute snuffle, he watches out of the corner of her eye as she wriggles down into his bed - looking like she fucking belongs there.

“Sleep well,” Harry rumbles as he shuts off the lamp, throwing the cabin into darkness - the only light filtering through the curtains of the neon gas station sign - bright enough to grab the attention of people on the highway.

Harry reclines the chair, he didn’t normally sleep on his back but he would manage for tonight - for her.

The wind was gnarly, scraping against the sides of his truck - the occasional loose tree branch hitting, the sleet pattering against the windows.

+

Harry didn’t sleep in, his body didn’t allow him.

He ran on five hours of sleep at max before he needed to get up, move around, and get on the road.

When he blinks his eyes open, blearing at clock on his wall - three fifty-four am.

Normally, Harry wouldn’t waste much time.

He’d be on the road within the next thirty minutes after letting Birdie out, getting her breakfast, and popping into the gas station to get the biggest size coffee they had.

However, when he glances at Birdie’s bed, he has to do a double take because she’s not in there, and his heart starts pounding instantly.

Harry didn’t care about much on this earth, really barely anything but he cared about his dog - the snappy, crotchety thing.

She was always in her bed.

Harry sits up quickly, a horrible thought that the girl he let sleep her had stolen her but as soon as he is standing - he hears a telltale snore from the dog.

He follows the noise and to his utter dismay, literal dismay, because Birdie didn’t like anyone but Harry (and she didn’t like him sometimes either).

The mutt is currently being spooned by YN.

It was the most absurd thing he had ever seen.

YN was on her side, facing towards him with her face half-smushed in his pillow, her arm was slung over Birdie as the pup was nuzzled into the shape of her body.

Birdie was relaxed as can be, snoring up a storm, and pillowing her head in the crook of YN’s shoulder like they’d known each other forever.

The dog hadn’t even woke up when YN had entered.

Traitor.

Harry tucks back into his boots, tugging on his winter jacket that YN had discarded on the back of the kitchenette chair.

As he fills the disposable coffee cup, black - no cream or sugar, he tries to map out his course to Washington state.

He had done the trip many times before but having to account for horrible road condition would tack on at least a day of travel - if not more.

Harry had to get on the road as soon as possible if he didn’t want to be later than that extra day.

The weather hadn’t changed, granted, it was only nearing four in the morning but he swears that the temperature dropped even further.

As he steps back up into the cabin, his eyes trail to YN and Birdie, all cuddled up like this was their home together.

Harry needed to wake her up, kick her to the curb like he had told her (and himself) but he couldn’t imagine waking her.

Not when only a few hours prior, she had cried as she told him how tired she was, and fuck - where did his heartlessness go?

He didn’t mess with sex workers, not that he judged the profession but Harry was never a casual sex kind of guy.

And anyways, the depression that was nearly constant killed his sex drive to the point where he rarely got the urge to take care of himself - let alone pay someone to do it for him.

Harry sighs as he contemplates his choices, he was going to be behind, and he couldn’t find it in him to shake her awake.

He decides to shower, even though the rest stop was foul because he had the time and he sure he has showered in worse places.

The water doesn’t get as hot as Harry would like but the pressure get good on his aching back, he’d always had a bad one, and sleeping in the lounger would make him sore for days.

Harry takes him time, washes his hair extra well, shaves off his stubble, and he’s not doing it to be more presentable to YN - he’s not.

By the time that he’s dressed in clean clothes, it has to be close to five in the morning, he refills his coffee on the way back before he’s unlocking his truck again.

Harry’s met by Birdie, who was acting strange, she rarely waited at the door and didn’t often whine like an injured pup.

However, Birdie was clearly upset as she anxiously paced in the small area, these high pitched yowls coming from the back of her throat - head upwards as she howled.

“What is it?” Harry asks her, automatically concerned as his eyes dart to the bed.

She was gone.

The bed had been made as neat as a pin, the clothes she had borrowed were folded on top of the comforter, and it’s like she’d never been there.

Harry should feel relief because he wouldn’t have to wake her up, kick her out but it doesn’t feel anywhere close to relief,

Not when he had this vicious, innate urge to protect her.

He didn’t know what made her so special.

Harry had stumbled upon countless women down on their luck before, it was part of working around the country, stopping as places were those people tended to populate, and he had never felt any desire to help them.

He knows she must have either went to the gas station or rest stop, she didn’t have a jacket so she couldn’t have gotten far.

A sickening thought of her getting into the scumbag from last night’s truck makes him close the door and head back toward the building.

He was just in the gas station to get another coffee, he would have seen her, and when he goes back into the dank rest stop - he walks towards the women’s bathroom.

Outside the door, he can hear the patter of water streaming from one of the ancient showerheads, and knows that has to be her showering.

And so he waits.

He hears the telltale signs of heels clicking and he has to laugh when she exits the bathroom.

Her hair was sopping wet because she didn’t have a towel, her black dress was waterlogged where the ends of her hair were kissing the fabric - all while wearing those god damn shoes.

YN’s eyes go wide, scared instantly as she stutters, “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Harry’s replies, brow knit in confusion.

YN’s face contorts, eyes darting away for a moment, “Um, I don’t know? You look upset with me. I-I left as soon as I woke up like you said.”

Was Harry upset?

Yeah, he guesses he actually was.

But not with her, not really.

He was upset that she was in a ridiculously small dress with wet hair (and clothes) in sub zero temperatures.

“What is your plan?” Harry answers instead, watching as goosebumps erupt all over her skin - it was a sticky humid in the cinderblock building but the cold couldn’t be ignored.

“My plan?” YN repeats, he hates how nervous she is around him - he understands but it’s so unnecessary, he wants to keep her safe.

He should leave.

Let her do her thing.

It’s not his business.

“Where are you going? What’s next?”

YN picks at the skin of her thumb with her index finger, chin tilted down, “I am hoping to get enough cash today to get a jacket, maybe a hotel room? That, um, that guy yesterday is still out in his truck and offered me a hundred and fifty so that’s why I was..showering.”

Harry wanted to be sick, his stomach was actually churning the coffee he had chugged down because she deserved better than that.

“No,” Harry says without thinking.

YN’s eyebrows raise in surprise, “I don’t know-“

“Three grand,” Harry interupts her, “I’m going to Washington. I’ll give you cash today to do the trip with me. Five or six days overall. I’ll buy your food, get you clothes, anything you need. On the way back, I’ll drop you off here again.”

YN is rightfully confused, biting at her bottom lip, “And what do you expect of me?”

“No sex,” Harry assures her, “I won’t try anything.”

“But why? This doesn’t make any sense. It’s just wasting money,” YN points out, she was starting to tremble from the cold.

Harry tugs off his jacket once again, this time he holds it out, and YN slips her arms in without complaint - she was freezing.

“You seem easy-going. I’ve been on the road for five years, guess I’m lonely and some company would be nice,” Harry shrugs, a rueful smile as he adds, “Also I’ll be damned if you’re getting in that scumbag’s truck. You deserve better than that.”

YN does something that shocks Harry.

She steps forward and wraps her arms tightly around his middle, her face burying in her chest as she hugs him.

The tips of her hair are dampening his own shirt but he cannot find it in him to complain.

This hug makes him realize just how long he’s been without human touch.

Harry is stiff, still processing, and YN must realize that because she starts to pull back with wide eyes, “I’m sorr-“

He shakes his head, finally moving his arms to wrap around her back, and he pulls her back into the hug - just for a moment.

“I got you, alright?” Harry rumbles as he pulls away, taking a step back, “Do you have a cell phone? Is there anyone you need to let know that you’re leaving for a few days?”

“No to both. I don’t have a cell phone, it broke a while back, and I couldn’t afford a replacement. And no, I don’t have anyone who will be concerned,” YN replies quietly, her voice was soft and sweet and filled with hurt.

“Okay,” Harry responds because he doesn’t know how to put into words that he doesn’t understand why she’s in a place like this, with no one.

She didn’t seem to have a bad bone in her body.

Harry guides YN back to his truck, as he opens the door he tells her, “I’m going to run Birdie for a few minutes. The clothes are still folded on the bed. I’ll get you new ones on the way. There aren’t stores for the next long stretch of miles.”

YN nods in agreement and as soon as Harry opens the door, Birdie is down the four steps and bounding towards YN.

Birdie jumped up on her hind legs, tail going wild as she accepts ear scratches and coos from YN, leaning down to kiss her snout.

And that’s another thing Harry doesn’t get, Birdie doesn’t do that with other people, normally she growls and bristles, bares her teeth and barks to get them away.

Birdie gets her love before bounding into the snow-topped fields, swallowing her up until Harry can only see flashes of black and white as she darts around.

It’s too cold to give her the normal amount of time and plus, he didn’t have his jacket so Birdie only got ten minutes before he whistled for her to come back.

Birdie’s whiskers are ice-tipped, snow dusting her beard, and she races back into the cabin with no issue in escaping the cold.

YN was already changed again, sitting on the bed.

Harry would be okay if he never saw her in a tight black dress or high heels again.

“I’m going to go refill my coffee, do a quick check of my truck, and then we’ll get out of here, okay?” Harry asks as he wipes Birdie off with a towel to get her dry - her fur was coarse and pretty water-resistant as it was, “Do you want food, a drink?”

YN shakes her head, declining as if it’s the polite thing to do, “No, thank you.”

Harry nods before disappearing back out of the truck.

The gas station is as desolate as it’s been the other two times that he’s gotten his coffee but now he had an armful of things.

Juices, water, hydration drinks, granola bars, a breakfast sandwich, a few cellophane-wrapped pastries.

The same clerk is still behind the register, his skin almost translucent from how pale he was, purplish veins contrasted the yellowish tone of his skin.

The man is old, his name tag reads ‘Gary’, and he scans the items with a bored expression, eyes blearing up to Harry at one point.

He had a rough, mid-western accent that made him harder to understand as he spoke, “Never a good idea to fall in love with a hooker.”

Harry is taken aback, startled by the comment as he replies, “What did you just say?”

Gary nods towards his truck out front, he clearly had seen YN going back and forth from the rest stop to his rig.

Then he nods down at the snacks, “M’just saying, son. Don’t put your eggs in her basket. They’re all smoke and mirrors. They’ll say and do just about anything for cash. Remember that.”

Harry is silent as he taps his card to the screen, he wasn’t in love with this girl, he had just met her mere hours ago under weird circumstances.

He didn’t feel anything towards her.

At least that’s what he was going to continue to tell himself so that he can remain headstrong on the promise he made to himself that he doesn’t need anyone.

He’s fine by himself.

Just him and Birdie.

Harry doesn’t give him a reaction nor a response, grabbing the plastic bag, and trudging back out into the cold.

Ready to get the fuck out of here.

YN is still where he left her but Birdie had finished her breakfast and was currently nuzzled up next to her thigh like she was her mother.

Harry unceremoniously drops the bag of items next to her, opposite of his traitorous dog, and doesn’t say anything - awkward and unsure.

YN opens the bag, glancing inside before looking up at him.

“It’s for you,” Harry waves his hand dismissively before moving to rub the back of his neck, why the fuck was he acting like this?

Like he was trying to court her with cheap gas station food and his clothes.

“Do you do this often? For girls like me?” YN wonders out loud, it’s not necessarily judgemental but curiously confused.

“I’ve never had a girl in here before, so no,” Harry shrugs, unable to hold eye contact because she’s pretty and he’s embarrassed.

“Do you…” YN hesitates, glancing down at her hands, “Nevermind.”

“You can ask me anything,” Harry doesn’t have much of anything to hide, “S’fine.”

“You don’t have a wife and kids at home, do you?” YN is timid, like she’s worried about how he’ll react to such a question.

Harry snorts, nonplussed, “No. I don’t have any family and I call this rig my home. No wife or kids.”

“Guess we’re both alone,” YN picks at a loose thread on the pajama pants, it was a fact for both of them, and the air was solemn between them.

“Well, for the next few days we have each other, right?” Harry huffs as he turns to the cabinet, out of sight, he punches in the code to his safe, and takes out the cash he promised, “Here’s the money.”

YN’s eyes go wide, taking it after a moment, running her thumb nail under the bills as they flutter before she’s tucking it into her backpack.

“I don’t know what I did to deserve your kindness but I am so grateful,” YN said earnestly, her eyes were doe-like and molten like heated caramel.

And Harry realizes for the first time since he’d met her that he hadn’t thought about his depression, about how he didn’t want to be here most days, and how most days had been all of his days lately.

She had given him a reason to keep on going for at least the next few days because he had her to take care of, protect.

Birdie was the only thing that had kept him here for the last three years, when it’s started to get really bad because he’d never abandon her.

Even if it meant enduring his own suffering for her - he would do anything for that dog, his lifeline, his lifesaver when he’s drowning.

He’s getting that same feeling with YN and he knows that’s dangerous because she could want to jump ship tomorrow and he’d be alone again.

Despite Gary’s forewarning, Harry might be putting his eggs in the basket of a girl he met less than twenty-four hours ago.

[pinksturniolo]

If I Can’t Have You, No One Can - Part Two

Matt Sturniolo x Fem Reader

Summary: Matt can’t seem to stand the fact that he can’t have you to himself. He knows it’s wrong to want you. After all, you’ve been dating his best friend for the past few months. But he never claimed to be a good guy. And he’s more than willing to show you just what you’ve been missing.

Content warnings (not in every part): smut, oral, fingering, raw sex, cheating, unhealthy relationship, obsession, use of alcohol

matt being a dirty little simp in this part 👀

word count: 4,260

Matt’s POV

I thought about her all fucking night long, I couldn’t close my eyes without seeing her face and remembering the way her lips tasted on mine. I tossed and turned, the tent in my sweatpants growing, my dick so hard it was painful, until I found myself pulling them down in a haste and thrusting into my hand only to cum a mere 60 seconds later all over my stomach.

To be honest, that wasn’t the first time I touched myself to the thought of Y/N.

But now that I knew the feeling of her kiss, finally able to lay my hands on the soft skin of her waist, and hear her moan…

I could easily jerk off again to the thought of it, already feeling my self grow hard for the second time.

But I needed more, I craved more.

I feared that she wouldn’t talk to me after that kiss, that maybe I crossed the line. But I also didn’t regret it. The tension between us had been building for a while and I wanted her more than anything.

Boyfriend or no boyfriend.

When I first met her, I was attracted right away. My heart sank when Mark introduced her as his girlfriend. She had this magnetic energy I was drawn to, and a smile that made my heart race in my chest. She spoke with confidence and was naturally funny without even trying. The more she came around, the more positive things I noticed about her, and I couldn’t help myself from staring at her when she talked, or walked, or did anything really.

I felt like an idiot for falling for a girl I had only known for a couple months, no less a girl that was with one of my best friends. Mark was a decent guy and he seemed to really like her. At first. But there was just no chemistry there, and anyone with a working brain could see that there wasn’t much of a connection. Sure, they looked good together but that’s all it was.

I kept my thoughts and feelings to myself though, being respectful and polite when they were around. Whenever it was just her at the house without Mark, she seemed more comfortable and would joke around more. I found myself looking forward to the weekends when she would come and just hang out, sometimes spending the night in Nick’s room.

But when I was alone, thoughts of her lips, her eyes, her body consumed me. More than often, I gave into my needs, my fist wrapped around my cock, moaning out her name, panting and sweating until I came in my hand. I just couldn’t help myself when it came to her. No other girl piqued my interest, and it frustrated me to no end because I couldn’t do anything about it.

If I made a move on her, she would without a doubt reject me. That would be cheating. I couldn’t talk to my brothers about it because they would think I’m insane for sure. I’m sure they noticed that I felt some type of way though, always making suggestive comments and giving me suspicious looks when she was around.

There was one night when I thought maybe, just maybe she might feel the same way I did. We had all gone out that day to random places in the city, thrifting and just walking around. Once the sun started to set, we decided to drive back to the house and watch a movie on the couch like usual.

 It was just me and her, sitting in the car and waiting for Chris and Nick while they were in the gas station getting snacks. She looked out the passenger window, the look on her face like she was deep in thought. The little scrunch in her eyebrows and the way her bottom lip stick out slightly whenever she was zoned out like that was incredibly cute to me.

“What’s on your mind?” I asked, causing her to break her focus and look over to me, her expression sheepish.

“Oh, nothing important.” she replied, shaking her head with a small smile and looking down at her lap.

“Don’t do that.” I spoke.

“Do what?” She said, looking back up at me.

“You always brush off personal questions. Like you’re afraid to open up.”

She chuckled. “Trust me, you don’t want to know what I’m thinking about.” She looked back out the window, a suggestive tone in her voice, making me even more curious.

“Try me.”

A few seconds of silence passes.

“Have you ever had a secret Matt? Like a secret you couldn’t tell anyone?” She turns towards me.

“Yeah, sure. Doesn’t everyone?”

“No, I mean like a secret so bad, it would change everything. Even hurt someone?”

“…..Okay do I need to be worried?”

She laughs, a sound I could never get tired of. My heart starts to race at what secret she could possibly be talking about, and the look on her face is unreadable.

“Sorry, I don’t mean to be dramatic. I just… I have a secret that I haven’t talked about with anyone, not even Mark…. especially not Mark.”

“Are you okay? Like, he’s not doing anything bad is he-“

“No, no. Nothing like that. It’s… something I did that’s bad.”

Her eyes are filled with desperation as she looks at me, like she’s terrified of what I’m going to say.

I grab her hand instinctively, and the feeling of her skin against mine is amazing. It’s a simple act, but it elicits a fire within me.

“What could you possibly do that’s so bad? I won’t judge you, I promise.” I tell her.

The eye contact is driving me insane, the tension in the car now thick as she squeezes my hand.

“That’s the thing Matt… I’m scared you will.”

Before she can say anything more, the back door opens, and Nick and Chris come climbing in.

She drops my hand and turns back to face the front of her seat, making my heart sink.

Chris opens his bag of chips, immediately chewing obnoxiously while Nick thumps on the back of my seat. “Come on, Matt! I got ice cream, and I don’t want it to melt!”

I roll my eyes, and sigh heavily, backing out of the parking lot.

“What’s up his ass?” Nick asks, looking at Y/N. She simply shrugs, looking out the window again, silent for the rest of the car ride.

She never brought up the conversation again, even making an excuse to leave that night instead of watching the movie with us. I felt horrible, like I upset her in some way. After that night, she started to be distant and her visits less and less frequent.

Until eventually, she stopped coming at all. Every time one of us would call or text her to ask where she was or what was wrong, she either answered with an extremely dry response or didn’t even bother to answer at all.

Chris and Nick constantly bombarded me with questions, asking what the fuck happened in the car that night and I just told them I had no clue, never mentioning her “secret.” Whenever Mark came around, it only annoyed me, having to see his face instead of hers.

He acted like it didn’t really matter if she was there or not, which aggravated me. He avoided questions of where or how she was. He seemed to have the time of his life without her around. I could tell he never appreciated her, never took care of her the way she actually deserved, and most likely didn’t satisfy her in the way she needed.

I knew it was wrong, but I started to despise my best friend. I felt like a jealous teenager in high school again, but I just couldn’t get her out of my thoughts, especially now that I had no clue as to why she stopped coming around. I constantly thought about our last conversation, and if her big secret had anything to do with me.

Why else would she bring it up to me? I started to obsess over it, over her. Thoughts and pictures of her while I touched myself in my bed, in the shower, fuck, even on the couch when no one was home, wasn’t enough. It was pathetic. I needed to see her.

✿

It was 2 a.m., the moon hung brightly in the sky, illuminating the dark night. There weren’t many people out on the streets, and I had the car windows rolled down, the brisk spring air feeling cool against my face.

I’m not sure what the fuck I was doing, all I knew, was that I couldn’t sit at home anymore. I originally intended to go for a night drive to clear my head, but instead, I found myself driving to her house.

I’m not even sure what I planned on doing when I got there. I couldn’t tell her I was coming, given the fact that my calls were currently going straight to her voicemail, and I for damn sure wasn’t going to knock on her door. She definitely didn’t want to see me if she couldn’t even bother to answer the phone.

So, I awkwardly parked across the street from her apartment complex. The light in her bedroom window shone, and I could see clearly into it because her curtains were open. Her apartment was on the first floor, near the street, a couple trees surrounding it but if you were in the right spot, you could see most of the room.

I had only been over a couple times, with my brothers and Jackson when we decided to have movie night there. It was always a running joke how easily someone could spy on her if she left her curtains open, and now here I was, doing the exact same thing.

She sat on her bed, her lugs tucked under her, computer on her lap. Her hair was tied up in a messy bun, her pajamas on. She looked content, focused on whatever she was working on.

I felt like such a fucking creep.

If Chris and Nick knew what I was currently doing, they would have me taken away to the loony bin in a strait jacket for sure.

I convinced myself this was insane and was about to drive away when I saw Mark enter through her bedroom door, and she got up, setting her computer down and putting her arms around him in a hug. His hands wrapped around her waist, nuzzling his head into her neck.

My heart raced in my chest, my cheeks flushing at seeing them together. The anger was radiating off me as I watched them embrace for a few more seconds and then kiss, moving down to her bed. It was like watching a car crash, it was horrible, but I couldn’t look away.

He lay down next to her, holding her while she laid her head on his chest. I could still see her face.

She looked happy.

I never drove off so fast in my life. I couldn’t bear to watch one more second and I felt disgusting for even intruding on her private moment like that.

It was hard to sleep that night, my mind racing with thoughts of his hands on her, touching her in the ways I so desperately wanted.

As crazy as it was, I found myself going back a few more times, on the nights where I just couldn’t get her off my mind. Thankfully, he wasn’t there, and I would stay for a few minutes, just watching while she worked, read or scrolled aimlessly on her phone. She looked so beautiful, and all I wanted was to be there with her, even if it meant sitting in my car across the street like an absolute maniac.

And to my surprise when she finally came over again after three excruciating long weeks, I couldn’t just tell her I had been stalking her at least once a week. But her body language and the way she got so nervous when I asked her why she had been ignoring me, made it click in my head. The tension between us, and the night she brought up a “secret.” She had to have feelings like I did.

So, I had to confront her, and when she kissed me back, it only confirmed to me what she felt.

But that had been a week ago, and I was back to pining over her, not hearing from her since then.

Until Jackson called on a Friday night, asking me and Nick to come over to her house where they were having game night. Chris had left earlier that day for plans he had made with some of his friends.

As we pulled into her apartment complex, it was embarrassing how excited I was to see her again. I knew I had to get her alone somehow and talk to her about last week.

Nick knocked on the door, it opening to reveal her behind it, looking gorgeous as ever. Her hair was down, her natural curls falling, and she was in a pair of tiny shorts and a plain tank top, a bright smile on her face and her cheeks tinted with a light blush when she saw me.

God, I wanted nothing more then to pin her against the wall right now, ripping off those shorts she was teasing me with and tell her all the ways I could ruin her.

My dick was already straining in my pants as we walked in, sitting around her kitchen table. I forced myself to calm down, thinking of sad puppies and make a wish kids.

There was already a game of Uno started when we joined in and Nick immediately announced he would win, causing Jackson to get serious. They were annoyingly competitive.

It was hard to focus on the game though, as Y/N was staring at me, teeth sinking into her bottom lip like she was contemplating something. I tried really hard to participate, but I felt my self-resolve slipping as I stared back, letting my eyes roam over her body. Her bare thighs squished together on the chair, her shirt riding up slightly, showing the skin of her hips.

It took everything in me not to audibly groan, the desire coursing through my veins. I had to figure out a way to get her alone, and my thoughts continued to wander when I heard her voice pull me back to reality. “Matt?”

My head snapped up, and her eyebrows were raised in expectation, everyone now looking at me.

“Yeah?” I asked, realizing I was too in my head earlier to hear her the first time.

“I said, I need to talk to you.” She replied, getting up from the table and setting her cards down. She walked to her room and my heart jumped as I got up as well, following her.

“Anyways…. Where were we...” I heard Nick say to Jackson, his voice fading as I stepped into her room down the hall, shutting the door behind me.

She stood a few feet away from me as I stayed near the door, unsure if I should move any closer. My heart was pounding so hard I could hear it in my ears.

Finally, she spoke, her voice a little shaky. “Matt, I want to talk about what happened.”

“Okay.” I say, gaining the courage to move towards her and her arms are down by her side, clutching onto the hem of her shorts nervously.

“I’m not sure this is a good idea… I mean- obviously, it’s not.” She says and I now stand a few inches from her, close enough to feel the warmth radiating between us.

“It’s not.” I reply and her eyes flicker from mine to my lips. I can see the black of her pupils expanding, the pulse in her neck jumping.

“And I want to do the right thing…” she continues, and I can’t help but attach my hands to her hips, like they have a mind of their own, causing her to pause in her words.

My thumbs brush over the bare skin there between her shirt and her shorts, rubbing mindless circles. The energy bouncing back and forth is almost too intense, our faces now dangerously close.

“Y/N. There’s absolutely nothing wrong you can do in my eyes.” I tell her and she sighs, her breath fanning against my lips, her arms now coming up to wrap around my neck, her body relaxing into me.

There’s a lot that needs to be said, feelings to unpack, and things we need to discuss. I know that. She knows that. But right now, in this moment, the only thing I can think about, the only thing I can feel is her.

“Just let me show you, please. Let me make you feel good, Y/N.” I breathe, tightening my hands around her waist and she crashes her lips onto mine, tongues meshing and teeth clashing as we kiss for the second time, even more desperate than the last.

Our lips move in sync, smacking sounds filling the room. Her hands tug on my hair as I pull her bottom lip between my teeth, sucking, and she moans into my mouth. I trail my lips down her jaw, onto her neck, breathing in her scent. “You smell so fucking good.” I say, holding her even tighter to me and I feel her nipples harden through her shirt as I suck on her neck harshly, flicking my tongue after to soothe it, leaving the beginning of bruises on her soft skin.

I hope he fucking sees them.

“Matt…” She whimpers, pulling on my hair again, making me groan against her. I’ve never been harder than I am right now, her sounds and smell intoxicating, the feeling of her supple hips in my hands. I grip them, moving her to the bed and hover on top of her, attaching my lips to hers once more.

I rest most of my weight on my arm on one side of her, the other placed gently on the side of her neck. She wraps her legs around my waist, and I grind down on her, the friction making us both moan out.

“Matt, the door.” She says breathlessly, panting against my mouth as we continue to grind on each other, the feeling too good to stop. At this point, anyone could interrupt us.

“Mm, you scared, baby? Scared someone’s gonna walk in and see what I’m doing to you?” I tease, my hand running down her chest, grazing over the valley of her breasts and resting on her stomach, right above her shorts.

She moans at my words, and I smirk, leaning down to whisper in her ear while my hand continues to explore her body, massaging her tits and running over her curves. “You like that? Does it feel good knowing I finally get you all to myself?”

“Fuck, Matt...” She sighs, her nails digging into my shoulder. The way she says my name alone could make me cum in my pants, but I want nothing more than to make her scream it, burying my cock deep inside her. “I bet you’re soaking.” I say, running my hand down to her shorts, unbuttoning them. She bites her lip in anticipation and bucks her hips up. I pin them down, making her stay still.

“Be a good girl for me, yeah?” I tell her, and the submissive look in her eyes has my cock throbbing.

She nods, and I slide her shorts off, exposing her red cotton panties. There’s a visible wet spot forming, and I groan aloud from the sight. I slide down the bed a little bit, positioning myself lower, my shoulders between her legs, spreading them open for me. I look up at her before I continue, and there’s nothing but lust in her eyes, her cheeks flushed, and lips swollen.

“You’re so beautiful, sweetheart. Is this okay? Can I take these off?” I ask her, placing my hands around the hem of her panties.

“Yes, please.” She says sweetly, making my heart ache in my chest. I waste no time sliding them off her, discarding them on the floor and she whines at the cool air now exposing her. I sink my teeth into my bottom lip, admiring her. She’s perfect, better than I ever imagined, and I spread her folds, applying a light pressure as I slick my fingers through her wetness. She moans loudly and moves her hips again, squirming from my touch.

I grab them roughly, pinning her down once more and she whines when I remove my fingers from her. “Shhh, you have to be quiet baby. Can you do that for me?” She groans softly and nods her head, closing her eyes and laying her head back. I know at any moment, Nick or Jackson could walk in or hear the sinful acts I’m about to do to her, but I simply don’t give a fuck. I didn’t want to put her in that situation, yet the thrill of it turned me on more than anything.

“Uh uh. Keep your eyes on me. You look away or make one noise and I stop. You understand?” I demanded, pressing my hands into her thighs firmly, holding her open for me. She snaps her head up and sits up to rest on her elbows, licking her lips and nodding her head. The smirk on her face drives me crazy.

“Yes, Matt. I’ll be good.” She says and an idea suddenly sparks in my head when I see a tie on her bedside table. It must be Mark’s. My ego swells as I snatch it, her eyes widening when I stuff it in her mouth, tying the back of it around her head.

“Is that okay?” I confirm and she nods, biting down on the tie. I take my place back down between her thighs, laying on the bed and run two fingers up and down her slit before pushing it into her slowly. “Fuck, you’re so tight.” I moan, mesmerized at the sight of her wet hole squeezing around my fingers. She was already dripping, the sounds of her arousal echoing through the room as I started to pump them in and out of her.

She breathes hard through her nose, her eyes threatening to roll back in her head as I watch her, thrusting my fingers a few times before I pull them out and replace it with my tongue, tasting her for the first time.

She tasted incredible, a taste I could get addicted to. I massage her gummy walls, burying my face as deep in her pussy as I could, my thumb making small, tight circles on her clit. I hear her whine softly and one of her hands comes up to pull on my hair, making me moan against her.

 I move faster, my hands now gripping her hips as I let her ride my tongue. She’s so fucking hot and I can’t help but thrust down into her mattress, the feeling of her body unravelling and shaking beneath me.

I thrust my fingers back into her, pressing against the spongy spot as I curl them, and she moans lightly, her face contorted in pleasure, tears forming in her eyes from the frustration. “Are you close baby?” I say and she nods feverishly, her eyes desperate, and drool starting to pool down her chin form the tie in her mouth. “Its okay, sweetheart, you can lay back. Let me take care of it.”

She collapses on the bed, my fingers moving at a faster pace now, and throws her head back in ecstasy, small moans escaping her. I press my lips around her clit and suck, her back arching off the bed. She clenches around my fingers, whining frantically as she’s seconds away from her release.

“You’re doing so good for me... I want you to cum on my fingers, you can do it baby.” I praise and seconds later her arousal leaks out, dripping down my hand, my fingers still moving as she orgasms, panting relentlessly and I press light kisses on her inner thigh.

Holy shit, why didn’t I ever do this before? If I get the chance to do more, I’ll never stop.

Her legs are shaking as I pull my fingers out, massaging her with my other hand as she catches her breath. I sit up and help her take off the tie, smoothing her hair back from her face, and kiss her.

“Oh my god, Matt…” She starts, and I hold her face in my hands, looking into her eyes but before she can continue, there’s a knock on the door.

“Matthew! What the fuck is taking so long?! We’ve played literally 8 rounds of Uno already!!” Nick shouts and she laughs, her face reddening in embarrassment.

She gets up to clean herself before I can even help her and gets dressed. Suddenly I’m pulled back into reality, our little bubble of pleasure bursted. My heart sinks when I’m reminded, she’s not mine. We’ve only dug ourselves deeper into this hole we’ve created.

But as me and Nick drive back to the house later, all I can think about is when and how I can get my hands on her again.

a/n: the dots are connecting…. the plot is PLOTTING

also, sorry if the time jumps back and forth between parts confuse you guys, i just thought it would make it more interesting to introduce both of their povs

taglist: (thank you to everyone who requested, commented and liked, i appreciate each and every single one!!!!! 🩷🩷🩷) if i forgot anyone please lmk!

@sturniolopepsi @tillies33ssss @whicked-hazlatwhore @riasturns @christhopersturniolo @junnniiieee07 @junovrsmp4 @sturnsjtop @seahorsie11 @inveigledvex @honestlyjb @mattslolita @stingerayyy2 @glassesmattsbae @eryismum

[jakeotters]

scott x reader where they have insane sexual tension and everyone notices (and is fed up) but them so they keep forming elaborate plans to get them alone together

Next Time (scott miller x reader) part I - 18+ MDNI

warnings: sexual tension, swearing, scott being scott, not enemies but not friends to lovers, eventual kissing, eventual smut

a/n: i thought i’d put a twist on this request and make it a multi-part fic! i hope anon doesn’t mind that it’s not specifically the pov from the crew/other chasers but rather the tension filled journey between scott x reader :,)

my inbox is open for requests! rules for requests are on my pinned post :)

part two (coming soon)

This wasn’t your first season chasing with Scott. You’d first met him at a little gas station in the middle Oklahoma. Scott’s rigid demeanor intimidated you, but your friend Javi had practically pushed you two together. Your first chase with Scott was tension filled and awkward, you could tell he didn’t exactly respect you.

That was 3 years ago, and now, you were more than used to Scott’s dull personality. The tension-filled relationship had only grown between the two of you, but neither of you cared to admit how you felt to each other.

“Which cell is it gonna be?”

You’re standing in a gas station parking lot, holding an iPad in front of Scott, a radar image pulled up on the screen. The rest of the Storm Par crew was dispersed around their vehicles and Javi was off somewhere, you assumed he’d gone to get snacks and drinks for the crew.

“You tell me.”

Scott’s answer was short and direct. You knew this game- he’d let you choose and then tell you that he thought otherwise.

“West.”

You inquired, your response just as short and direct as Scott’s.

“You sure? East looks better.”

Scott’s eyes met yours from under his sunglasses. You couldn’t see his eyes, but you knew they glistened with cockiness.

“I’m always sure.”

You rolled your eyes at him, putting the iPad at your side. Javi came running out of the gas station, plastic bags in his hands. He stopped to give bags to other members of the crew before making his way over to you and Scott.

“You guys want snacks?”

Javi held two bags in front of each of you.

You took a bag from him and peered inside— all of your favorites. You smiled.

“Thanks, Javi.”

Scott took the second bag and muttered something that sounded like a thank you before walking to your chase vehicle.

“Where are we headed?”

Javi asked, but you could tell he already knew the answer.

“West.”

You winked and smiled at him before turning and walking to the SUV.

—

“I’m tired of your little game, Scott.”

You broke the silence in the vehicle. It was a silence you’d gotten comfortable with, you knew Scott wasn’t one for small talk or casual conversations- especially with you.

“What game?”

Scott’s eyes were trained on the road in front of him, Javi’s truck not far in front of your SUV.

“The whole ‘East looks better’ bullshit.”

You adjusted in your seat. Typical of him to act like he didn’t know the way he treated you. You heard something that sounded like a scoff come from him.

You expected an arrogant response but it never came. You wondered if you’d caught him off guard with your declaration.

“It’s been 3 years, Scott. I can understand not liking me, but you should respect me. I think I’ve shown that I deserve that, at the very least.”

You knew you were venturing into dangerous territory by the way his jaw clenched and his eyes narrowed. But, you were almost eager to push his buttons- to tell him everything you’d bitten back for 3 years. You wanted to be mean to him, drill the words into him and break him down like the times he’d broken you down for making simple mistakes.

Again, no response. You wondered if he was doing this on purpose, making you sit in his silence while he plotted how he was going to pull you aside and belittle you after the chase.

“I don’t dislike you.”

After a few minutes, his words cut through the silence. Your mind did a full stop.

“What?”

“I don’t dislike you.”

Scott repeated. His eyes darted to you for a second before returning to the road. The words cut through you. Everything you’d ever assumed he thought about you had just been squashed.

The familiar silence returned. You weren’t sure what to say, or even what ro think. You stared at the yellow lines that split the road into two lanes. It felt like they went on forever.

—

“Hey, good job today. Sorry we didn’t get anything.”

Javi handed you the key card to your room. The two of you stood in the parking lot of a cheap motel. The rest of Storm Par had either gone to their rooms or were dispersed throughout the lot, talking with other chasers or cleaning out their vehicles.

“Oh well. There’s always next time.”

You managed a half smile. Sure, you were disappointed, but you were tired and ready to be away from everyone.

“Yeah- well, goodnight. See you tomorrow.”

Javi smiled, patting your shoulder before walking off. You almost felt bad for keeping the conversation short but you were glad to be left alone. You started walking to your room, ready to be in the warmth of a bed.

“Hey.”

You heard a voice behind you. You swore you let out a curse under your breath before turning around. Scott was standing there, clipboard resting under his arm.

“What?”

The word came out harsher than you’d meant for it to but you didn’t care. This was supposed to be your time, you just wanted to be away from him.

“East looked better.”

You stood there. You bit your tongue, holding back the long line of curses that threatened to spill from your lips.

“You followed me over here to tell me that?”

You managed, turning to walk away from him. You wanted to be away from him.

“Not so fast.”

He caught your arm with his hand.

“You aren’t always sure.”

Asshole, you thought. You knew he was doing this on purpose, this was just another one of his ways of giving you shit, but you weren’t in the mood.

“Fuck off.”

You shrugged out of his grasp.

“Why? Is there somewhere you need to be?”

Scott tilted his head, crossing his arms in front of his chest, clipboard resting under them.

“Yeah, there is. Away from you.”

You spat, walking away from him again.

Scott watched you walk away for a moment before following you.

“I said I don’t dislike you. This is what I get for that?”

You scoffed.

“Then why do you treat me like shit?”

Scott shrugged.

“Because it’s fun.”

You stopped at the door to your room and turned towards him again. His arms were back to his sides. You were almost too tired to care about what he was saying.

“I see. Goodnight.”

Sarcasm dripped from your voice. You turned to put the key card in the lock. You opened the door and slammed it shut, leaving Scott standing outside like a dog on your doorstep.

You quickly changed clothes and climbed into bed. The softness of the sheets and warmth of the blankets instantly relaxed you. You closed your eyes, enjoying the peacefulness.

—

You didn’t know how long it had been before there was a knock at your door. You ignored it. There was another. You opened your eyes. Sighing, you turned on the bedside lamp and got up. You unlocked the door, not even bothering to see who was there before you did. Opening it, you felt every ounce of peace fade away.

Scott stood there in his black undershirt and a pair of sweatpants, a plastic bag in his hand. His curls hung in the low light of the hallway. It was rare you saw him in anything other than his white Storm Par button up and perfectly ironed pants. You hated to admit that he looked good.

“Wanted to give this to you.”

He extended the bag towards you. You blinked at him. Maybe if you blinked enough, he’d go away.

“Take it.”

Scott held up the bag. Wanting him to go away, you took it from him. You pushed the door shut when his hand stopped it, pushing it back open.

“Where’s my thank you?”

He raised an eyebrow.

“Thanks.”

You rolled your eyes and shut the door.

You opened the bag. A few of your favorite snacks were inside, along with a note. Curious, you picked up the note.

There’s always next time.

- Scott

“Asshole.”

You said out loud, putting the note back in the bag and throwing the bag on the table by the door. You climbed back into bed and turned off the lamp. You closed your eyes again, sleep finding you not long after.

[tummykinkgal]

BF's Insanely Upset Belly

I have felt so awful for my bf today but also just insanely turned on by it all.

Before he left to work he was complaining a little bit that his stomach felt a bit gross and that he'd had to go to the bathroom a few times during the night, but that he'd hopefully be okay at work today.

Not even an hour into him starting his shift, I get a message from him saying that his stomach is 'audibly upset' (cue me blushing like crazy just picturing him in his quiet workplace with a loud and upset gurgling belly), and that he's had to take multiple bathroom breaks since he started his shift so he's probably gonna leave early.

Fast forward again to him coming home early from work about an hour and a half after that message and he had a sheepish look on his face. I felt so bad that he felt embarrassed of his tummy and was in a lot of discomfort but glad that he was back for me to take care of him.

I asked him how he was feeling and he winced a bit and starting to rub his tummy with one hand, saying how every few minutes he can feel his stomach "burble and churn like it's try to settle". I feel so awful for him that he's not feeling well, but all I can think about is how hot his tummy is.

I gave him a big hug and mid-conversation (and hug) his belly let out a series of strong and loud glorps and gurgles that I could feel across my belly where my stomach was pressing against his. He leaned away a little bit, gently rubbed his stomach and told it to be quiet and told his tummy to leave him alone, which I just thought was one of the cutest things.

Our living room and office are pretty much in the same combined open-space room, so every now and again I can hear his belly let out a stream of insanely noisy and upset gurgles and bubbly sounds while he tries to subtly rub his stomach from across the room.

A minute or two ago (which prompted me to write this post), he stood up and showed me how bloated and distended his belly is, and it's insane, it looks like he's swallowed an entire watermelon and basketball whole, and his belly has almost 0 softness anymore (he's normally got a little bit of chub around his tummy but nothing crazy noticeable so this is a huge difference). His belly button has a cute little hood over it now and almost looks like an outie (it's normally a deep innie) where the skin is stretched and so help me god I can't focus on anything during this, ahhhhh.

At this very moment he's stood up, rubbing his stomach and gently leaning onto/pressing his belly into the back of his office chair to compress his belly to force some burps which he's hoping will help release the tightness in his stomach. Every now and again I can hear the sound of gas bubbles moving and small burps (with the odd hiccup beforehand) coming out and I am just so unbelievably horny right now.

Every time I'm astounded that he doesn't have this kink (or even knows that I have it) and that I'm insanely lucky to have a partner who is this shameless about it all. God I love him.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for refusing to pay my ex back money that I supposedly owe?

So, I was in a relationship with X for three years. We were engaged and lived together for one. During that time, we have some problem with money. Both of us lost our jobs kind of close together. We got new jobs, so rent wasn't really a problem, but day-to-day expenses like gas and groceries were.

X is trying to say that I owe them $1.4K or so because, during this time, they took out a couple of credit cards to make ends meet. They're claiming that I 1) knew ahead of time that they were taking out credit cards, and 2) agreed to pay them back when we were both in a more comfortable place.

I have no memory of this conversation we apparently had. I went through our messages (we use Discord so I had no problem searching for keywords) and nothing there, either.

During our relationship, X was always cagey about their finances. They have a bit of an independence complex because they want to establish themselves as capable without their parents. But that also meant that I never knew what bills they owed or how much — about anything. Even when they complained about costs, it was always vague.

Even agreeing to "pay them back" sounds weird to me because our relationship wasn't like that. We were partners and covered each other when we could, and repayment was never expected because, duh, we were planning to get married.

X has no evidence of me knowing about these credit cards in the first place, LET ALONE agreeing to pay anything back. They're claiming that they spent 24k in total on those cards in the year we were together, which seems INSANE to me. I have no idea how the fuck they managed to spend that much on two people.

They want me to pay them back because they took the credit cards out to support me, I guess — but, again, I never asked them to do that or even knew that they were. It's not like they were buying insanely fancy stuff, and they got paid more than me, so I just assumed their money was from their paychecks and they never said anything to make me thing that their debts were piling up.

I did offer to help them pay off some bills a couple of times, but they always declined. And I didn't offer out of obligation, I offered because I loved them.

But, tbh, even if I thought I did legitimately owe them money, I wouldn't pay them back, anyway, because we ended on very nasty terms and they still owe something like $4k to my parents, anyway.

So, AITA? Or at least justified in being "petty"?

[gothamite-rambler]

"You knew this entire time?"

Context (and links at the end): Dick Grayson learns that his brother, Jason Todd, knew about Damian's existence before Bruce did and helped take care of him, canon is based on numerous things. All right, let go!

Dick finds Jason in the tea room watching a video on his phone.

Dick Grayson: Okay, Bruce is… Unconscious, but fine.

Jason Todd: That's good. This video Talia sent me is good too.

Jason chuckles, replaying Bruce fainting after learning he has a son.

Dick: It's not funny to laugh at him right now. The man found out he has a kid with a crazy woman.

Jason: Yeah, the irony that Batman slipped up like that is not lost on me. I'm living for this.

Dick (annoyed): Could you be serious for a second?

Jason: I want to, I do… but this is funny to me. He said his swimmers weren't working.

Dick (chuckling): Okay, that was funny, but to be fair, we all thought he couldn't have kids or enjoy life.

Jason: True, but how Damian was conceived apparently involved a gas station condom in his wallet.

Dick (surprised): So it wasn't planned?

Jason: Nope.

Dick (concerned): Bruce was fully aware when they… did it?

Jason: I'm leaning towards yes. He wasn't expecting to have a son, but apparently, he was depressed and then ta-da.

Jason laughs.

Dick (angry): You could have spoken up eventually. I wasn't even aware. You never thought to tell me when I dropped by with the Titans?

Jason: I was mad at you… What did you expect? I tried to kill you when we met back up; when would I have had time to bring up the child he had? Talia wanted me to keep him protected. If I told you, you'd run to Bruce, and she wasn't ready to have them meet.

Dick: Yeah, but—

Jason: I get it, but Talia herself admits it was wrong to hide it, and Ra is insane. He wanted to kill Bruce at every turn for six years alone. By year seven, he simmered down… a little. Damian needed someone stable around him during the days with Ra… No one else was around, and I was on good-ish terms with some of you, so I'd spend time with him, take care of him, teach him stuff.

Dick: Oh, so during the eight years of swearing revenge and spending time here, you took care of the little boy? Why? Were they threatening you?

Jason: Nah, it was part of my long-term revenge plan. Killing him was too easy, and then that plan fizzled out, so I kept it a secret about his love child. Plus, it was free room and board if I helped raise the kid. And they paid me.

Dick (sighing): Let me get this straight: they were paying you to take care of Damian, I think his name is, and in between that, Bruce started paying you to stop killing… How much were they paying you?

Jason: It was a big number. Smart, right?

Dick: You put all of this effort into revenge?

Jason (nodding pridefully): I'm impressed with my resilience to keep quiet as well.

Dick: Jason, that is numerous levels of wrong, but at the same time, I can't even hate how underhanded and perfectly planned this was.

Jason: Thanks. I did contemplate raising Damian to kill them, but that plan fizzled out three years into helping raise him. You have to give me that.

Dick lets out a long sigh, then nods.

Dick: Yeah, okay, I'm proud of you for that.

Jason (smiling): And let's not forget, because this is a factor, his grandfather is Ra's al Ghul. It was hell when I lived with him. He wanted to raise Damian as an assassin, but a few months ago, I convinced Talia not to do that and just tell Bruce. Now him showing up in the batsuit was perfectly timed.

Dick: You're ridiculous.

Jason: You and Talia may say that, but I say I'm the father that stepped up.

Dick: I'm not sure I believe you. I'm sorry, but you probably barely visited him—

Damian walks into the room and goes over to Jason.

Damian: Hi, sorry to interrupt. Jason, I forgot to say it's a pleasure to see you again.

Damian holds out his hand. Jason shakes his hand and then holds up his fist. Damian lightly fist bumps him.

Damian: I drew you this.

Damian hands Jason a folded-up picture. Jason opens it and chuckles.

Damian: It's a good picture of Grandpa, isn't it? I made sure he looks like a crazy chicken.

Jason: Very accurate. Thank you.

Damian: I'll leave you two alone. I'm going to see if the man in the batsuit that's my… father is awake yet.

Damian scurries off.

Dick (sheepishly): All right, sorry I doubted you.

Jason (shrugs): I'm used to it.

Damian walks back in and looks at Dick, tapping his chin.

Damian: Why do you wear that suit?

Dick: It's part of my hero thing.

Damian: Hm… at least it's not a batsuit. My apologies for insulting your name; it's just odd you share the name of a phallic symbol.

Jason chuckles. Dick takes a deep breath to remain calm.

Dick: I blame society for that, but I go by it because my parents gave me that name.

Damian: They died?

Dick: Yes.

Damian: Huh, odd name, but I respect the name your parents gave you at birth. Nice meeting you, Dick Grayson. I'm going to get snacks for you guys.

With that, Damian scurries out to get a snack.

Dick: That was so precious.

Jason: Yeah, he's a good kid. Thankfully, he was insane for most of his childhood. He probably wants Bruce to take him with us… I have no idea why it's better here.

Dick: Jason, not the time for jokes.

Jason: I will continue because this situation is funny as hell. Let's go check on the baby daddy of Damian.

Jason stands and leaves the room with Dick following behind him, an exhausted look on his face. There is a lot to adjust to at the moment, but he is glad he has a new family member, at least, and it is funny seeing Bruce actually turn off the stoicness.

Previous chapters:

Bruce meets his son for the first time

Jason knew the entire time

---> Bruce meeting his son part 2

[grimesgirll]

you were never the type of person to need someone to help you fall asleep before meeting rick and daryl.

not even as a kid did you need your parents to hold your hand to fall asleep. but now? after having two men warm your bed, you could hardly stand to sleep alone.

this became a problem whenever daryl got into one of his moods of wanting to be alone or even when he went on hunting trips. usually, it could be quelled by rick holding you and lavishing you with his attention at night but when they were both gone? you hated it.

you typically spent your nights without them tossing and turning, a hand between your legs trying to relieve yourself of the itch that only they could scratch.

it was all the same that night. after eating dinner with carl and judith,and getting the toddler to bed, you skulk over to your bedroom. ready to spend the night staring at the ceiling until boredom finally kicked in like a nyquil.

you’d told rick before how you missed him when he was out on runs or taking watch shifts. his solution? count sheep.

looking back, you wish you would’ve strangled him. sleeping wasn’t as easy as counting sheep. you should know; you were the one who typically dealt with judith’s sleep troubles after all. some nights the girl couldn’t go down without another story or another hug, or being rocked in your arms.

not even judith was keeping you up tonight. she’d fallen asleep easily after a day of playing outside and running around with carl. had you regressed so much that a toddler was sleeping better than you?

you think so as you pull back the covers, shifting into the empty bed. it was unnecessarily cold without your boys. they were out on a long scavenging trip - most trips turned out to be long nowadays with how depleted everything nearby was. you’d wanted to go with, but they always insisted that you needed to stay home and take care of the kids. great! you loved hanging with rick’s brood and you loved alexandria too but was it worth being without rick and daryl? debatable.

before attempting to close your eyes and count sheep, you pop a sleep supplement, summoning the bottle from your bedside table and downing a purple capsule. you weren't the first person in this house to have night terrors and you wouldn't be the last, so you guys opted to keep some sleep medicine in stock, just in case.

it still takes a few minutes of rolling around in the comforter to fall asleep. then, you're in a deep, dreamless sleep.

you don't hear them when they come in.

you're catching up on the much needed z's that you missed the past four sleepless nights when the bedroom door opens and two pairs of feet thud on the carpet. with their muddy boots and battered outside clothing discarded, the pair of men slip into bed beside your sleeping form.

as daryl curls into your side, he's disappointed that you're not awake to witness him tucking himself in beside you not smelling like blood, or guts, or the woods for once.

they'd showered at a cabin, which actually not too far from alexandria. the cabin was nestled into a hill and some dense woods between two white picket developments, left to the dead who inhabited it. he, rick, and tara had found some bodies - middle aged - in the basement in a panic room, and evidence of a small, long gone group of survivors. their abandoned shit scattered throughout the place was the win alexandria needed. these scavenging trips weren't always successful, especially with every fucker in a fifty mile radius selfish, cruel, or insane. it was rare they met decent folk. but at least after going hours out and finding jack, they could bring back enough MREs, preserves, and siphoned gas to have those needs off their minds for a while.

daryl's mind immediately wanders to you as he lays back on the satin sheets you'd picked out. you're splayed out in the middle of the bed with your arms wrapped around a round pillow. lips parted; you look peaceful in a way that makes daryl's dick twitch in his boxers.

rick's already leaning against you, a hard outline starting to form in the pajama pants he'd pulled on before jumping in bed. odd choice given how fast they usually came off. his arms are wrapped around you as he settles in for the night.

"so glad we're back," rick exhales into your rising and falling chest.

daryl nods from where he is.

"thought i was gonna combust."

you and me both. he thinks, but just stares at the ceiling, enjoying the soft bed and the feeling of you next to him.

it's not long before the bed is creaking and he knows rick is yanking you closer, whispering in your ear, asking, "you awake, doll?" you don't stir. rick shoots him a look that daryl obliges by sinking down between your legs to work them open, testing a finger lightly against your entrance.

while your leader peppers your chest with kisses and slowly tugs down your tank top, daryl presses his finger inside of you. he hisses. "she's tight after all this time, man."

rick chuckles against your collarbone. "course she is."

you're still asleep when another two fingers are added to your cunt and you're starting to turn on like a fountain. "god, she's gushin'," daryl observes with a hard on while he scissors his fingers in and out of you.

rick has your tank top laying somewhere on the floor to make way for his mouth on your tits, alternating between the two. how you're not awake? they'll never know. not until you wake up the next morning and tell them about the sleep supplement you took before you crashed.

the sheriff's mouth rampages across your chest and up along your pulse point, before working back to your breast. when you were awake, you loved the feeling of rick's mouth on you. you loved it when you were asleep too.

"remember how wet you were when you woke up?" rick whispered in your ear, one time when he had you snug in his arms before you fell asleep, reminding you how good you would feel the next morning after they fucked you through the night.

okay, it wasn't all night but enough to make you feel the stretch the next morning and get your mouth watering at the thought of them enjoying your sleeping cunt. to get distracted during the day thinking about what you'd be up to that night, while you were asleep.

you stir now, body slightly tensing at the feeling of arms around you and three fingers in your pussy. "what?" you murmur, barely quelling a yawn.

rick holds you tighter in his arms, meeting your eyes when you ask when they got in.

"not soon enough," daryl mutters as he detracts his fingers and starts to shed his boxers.

before you know it, rick's pajama pants are nowhere to be seen and you're sinking down on his thick cock. daryl's on your left before you know it and suddenly rick's facing you toward his friend. you're met with the sight of his dick, which you take eagerly into your mouth, pumping what you were too busy waking up right now to swallow with your hand.

"you're always so good for us when we get back, darlin'," rick commends you as you slowly rise up and down on his cock.

you nod, moaning all over daryl as rick's fingers cement into your hips and he drives into you. "oh," you gasp into the man in front of you. he thumbs your cheek while you fit more of him into your mouth, thrusting shallowly.

"i'm sure you’re gonna wanna wake up like this every night now, huh, doll?"

with him buried in your nerve wrought pussy and daryl almost down your throat now, all you can do is nod and hum a sweet garbled yes. it's gonna be a long night, but at least they're back.

[ddejavvu]

eddie x reader

wayne & her r gonna meet but they already know each other so they prank eddie that he doesn’t like her

You've got your game face on, Eddie just misunderstands why. He thinks you've squared your shoulders and furrowed your brow to remind yourself that you're tough, that you're awesome, and that it doesn't matter what his uncle thinks of you (even though he knows he'll love you). Really, it's because you're about to rage against the man currently opening the door.

"Wayne," Eddie grins, holding up your joined hands, "This is-"

"You," Wayne seethes, glare sharp enough to fool his nephew, "What the hell are you doing bringin' 'round a criminal, son?"

"A- A what?"

"Oh, not you," You scoff, dropping Eddie's hand to cross your arms over your chest, "Eddie, you didn't tell me your uncle was a psychopath."

"Psycho- What? You're the one that keyed my car!"

"You hit me with it," You seethe, spitting mad, "And then you just drove away! You laughed, you're fucking insane!"

"You- you what? Wayne!" Eddie looks aghast at his uncle, "The first time I get a girlfriend you run her over?"

"She was in my way," The old man gripes, "Tell her to stop jaywalking."

"Jaywalking? And- and baby," He turns to you, eyes wide and afraid, "You slashed his tires? I- I mean, that's fucked up that he did that but- but did you really do that?"

"She called me a coot, too," Wayne insists, but after punctuating his sentence, his frown falters, and his jaw nearly snaps from how hard he's clenching it, trying to keep his laughter in."

"You are a coot," You huff, but his concealed laughter only makes your own bubble up, "And- and another thing, old man..."

"Yeah? Gimme a reason," Wayne raises a fist, all bark and no bite, "Just- just gimme a reason to, and I'll- I'm sorry, I can't."

His chest puffs with laughter, and the way Eddie's standing fear-stricken makes you dissolve as well. He's perhaps more afraid of the two of you when you break down laughing together, leaning on the doorframe or folded over at the waist. He almost wishes you'd start shouting again.

"Okay, guys," He calls warily, "What's going on?"

"She works at the gas station I stop by for cigarettes." Wayne waves a hand at Eddie, "I knew you two were together when I saw that ring on her hand." He points to a particularly gaudy one of Eddie's that he'd given you as a token of his admiration."

"Sorry, Eddie," Your sentence begins with a giggle and ends with a sigh as you butt your head against his chest, "We just wanted to freak you out."

"You did," He shakes his head, eyes closed, "i thought you were gonna knock her lights out, Wayne. And- wait! You said you quit smoking!"

This time it's Eddie with fire in his eyes, and you give Wayne a teasingly panicked look from over Eddie's shoulder.

"Yeah, I told you that 'cause I wanted you to think it," Wayne drawls, "I buy a pack after work every week."

"You're not allowed to sell him any more," Eddie whirls on you, and you drop the face, "Understand?"

"Yes, sir." You fake-salute, "Now can we get inside? I want to hang out with your uncle."

"I've been meanin' t'ask you," Wayne welcomes you into the trailer with an arm out that wraps around your shoulders as you cross the threshold, leaving Eddie alone on the front steps, "Did you ever get that car radio of yours workin' again? 'Cause a buddy of mine just totaled his car, the stereo's workin' fine. I figured I could swap it out for you."

As you get into a discussion of car radios and junkyard ethics, Eddie stands with furrowed brows in the doorway. He's watching his girlfriend and his uncle chat like college friends, and he can barely shake off the bewilderment enough to step inside his own home.

"You two are crazy," He cuts you off, frowning at the both of you, "I- God, I need a beer."

[anheliotrope]

Rambling About C# Being Alright

I think C# is an alright language. This is one of the highest distinctions I can give to a language.

Warning: This post is verbose and rambly and probably only good at telling you why someone might like C# and not much else.

~~~

There's something I hate about every other language. Worst, there's things I hate about other languages that I know will never get better. Even worse, some of those things ALSO feel like unforced errors.

With C# there's a few things I dislike or that are missing. C#'s feature set does not obviously excel at anything, but it avoids making any huge misstep in things I care about. Nothing in C# makes me feel like the language designer has personally harmed me.

C# is a very tolerable language.

C# is multi-paradigm.

C# is the Full Middle Malcomist language.

C# will try to not hurt you.

A good way to describe C# is "what if Java sucked less". This, of course, already sounds unappealing to many, but that's alright. I'm not trying to gas it up too much here.

C# has sins, but let's try to put them into some context here and perhaps the reason why I'm posting will become more obvious:

C# didn't try to avoid generics and then implement them in a way that is very limiting (cough Go).

C# doesn't hamstring your ability to have statement lambdas because the language designer dislikes them and also because the language designer decided to have semantic whitespace making statement lambdas harder to deal with (cough Python).

C# doesn't require you to explicitly wrap value types into reference types so you can put value types into collections (cough Java).

C# doesn't ruin your ability to interact with memory efficiently because it forbids you from creating custom value types, ergo everything goes to the heap (cough cough Java, Minecraft).

C# doesn't have insane implicit type coercions that have become the subject of language design comedy (cough JavaScript).

C# doesn't keep privacy accessors as a suggestion and has the developers pinkie swear about it instead of actually enforcing it (cough cough Python).

Plainly put, a lot of the time I find C# to be alright by process of elimination. I'm not trying to shit on your favorite language. Everyone has different things they find tolerable. I have the Buddha nature so I wish for all things to find their tolerable language.

I do also think that C# is notable for being a mainstream language (aka not Haskell) that has a smaller amount of egregious mistakes, quirks and Faustian bargains.

The Typerrrrr

C# is statically typed, but the typing is largely effortless to navigate unlike something like Rust, and the GC gives a greater degree of safety than something like C++.

Of course, the typing being easy to work it also makes it less safe than Rust. But this is an appropriate trade-off for certain kinds of applications, especially considering that C# is memory safe by virtue of running on a VM. Don't come at me, I'm a Rust respecter!!

You know how some people talk about Python being amazing for prototyping? That's how I feel about C#. No matter how much time I would dedicate to Python, C# would still be a more productive language for me. The type system would genuinely make me faster for the vast majority of cases. Of course Python has gradual typing now, so any comparison gets more difficult when you consider that. But what I'm trying to say is that I never understood the idea that doing away entirely with static typing is good for fast iteration.

Also yes, C# can be used as a repl. Leave me alone with your repls. Also, while the debugger is active you can also evaluate arbitrary code within the current scope.

I think that going full dynamic typing is a mistake in almost every situation. The fact that C# doesn't do that already puts it above other languages for me. This stance on typing is controversial, but it's my opinion that is really shouldn't be. And the wind has constantly been blowing towards adding gradual typing to dynamic languages.

The modest typing capabilities C# coupled with OOP and inheritance lets you create pretty awful OOP slop. But that's whatever. At work we use inheritance in very few places where it results in neat code reuse, and then it's just mostly interfaces getting implemented.

C#'s typing and generic system is powerful enough to offer you a plethora of super-ergonomic collection transformation methods via the LINQ library. There's a lot of functional-style programming you can do with that. You know, map, filter, reduce, that stuff?

Even if you make a completely new collection type, if it implements IEnumerable<T> it will benefit from LINQ automatically. Every language these days has something like this, but it's so ridiculously easy to use in C#. Coupled with how C# lets you (1) easily define immutable data types, (2) explicitly control access to struct or class members, (3) do pattern matching, you can end up with code that flows really well.

A Friendly Kitchen Sink

Some people have described C#'s feature set as bloated. It is getting some syntactic diversity which makes it a bit harder to read someone else's code. But it doesn't make C# harder to learn, since it takes roughly the same amount of effort to get to a point where you can be effective in it.

Most of the more specific features can be effortlessly ignored. The ones that can't be effortlessly ignored tend to bring something genuinely useful to the language -- such as tuples and destructuring. Tuples have their own syntax, the syntax is pretty intuitive, but the first time you run into it, you will have to do a bit of learning.

C# has an immense amount of small features meant to make the language more ergonomic. They're too numerous to mention and they just keep getting added.

I'd like to draw attention to some features not because they're the most important but rather because it feels like they communicate the "personality" of C#. Not sure what level of detail was appropriate, so feel free to skim.

Stricter Null Handling. If you think not having to explicitly deal with null is the billion dollar mistake, then C# tries to fix a bit of the problem by allowing you to enable a strict context where you have to explicitly tell it that something can be null, otherwise it will assume that the possibility of a reference type being null is an error. It's a bit more complicated than that, but it definitely helps with safety around nullability.

Default Interface Implementation. A problem in C# which drives usage of inheritance is that with just interfaces there is no way to reuse code outside of passing function pointers. A lot of people don't get this and think that inheritance is just used because other people are stupid or something. If you have a couple of methods that would be implemented exactly the same for classes 1 through 99, but somewhat differently for classes 100 through 110, then without inheritance you're fucked. A much better way would be Rust's trait system, but for that to work you need really powerful generics, so it's too different of a path for C# to trod it. Instead what C# did was make it so that you can write an implementation for methods declared in an interface, as long as that implementation only uses members defined in the interface (this makes sense, why would it have access to anything else?). So now you can have a default implementation for the 1 through 99 case and save some of your sanity. Of course, it's not a panacea, if the implementation of the method requires access to the internal state of the 1 through 99 case, default interface implementation won't save you. But it can still make it easier via some techniques I won't get into. The important part is that default interface implementation allows code reuse and reduces reasons to use inheritance.

Performance Optimization. C# has a plethora of features regarding that. Most of which will never be encountered by the average programmer. Examples: (1) stackalloc - forcibly allocate reference types to the stack if you know they won't outlive the current scope. (2) Specialized APIs for avoiding memory allocations in happy paths. (3) Lazy initialization APIs. (4) APIs for dealing with memory more directly that allow high performance when interoping with C/C++ while still keeping a degree of safety.

Fine Control Over Async Runtime. C# lets you write your own... async builder and scheduler? It's a bit esoteric and hard to describe. But basically all the functionality of async/await that does magic under the hood? You can override that magic to do some very specific things that you'll rarely need. Unity3D takes advantage of this in order to allow async/await to work on WASM even though it is a single-threaded environment. It implements a cooperative scheduler so the program doesn't immediately freeze the moment you do await in a single-threaded environment. Most people don't know this capability exists and it doesn't affect them.

Tremendous Amount Of Synchronization Primitives and API. This ones does actually make multithreaded code harder to deal with, but basically C# erred a lot in favor of having many different ways to do multithreading because they wanted to suit different usecases. Most people just deal with idiomatic async/await code, but a very small minority of C# coders deal with locks, atomics, semaphores, mutex, monitors, interlocked, spin waiting etc. They knew they couldn't make this shit safe, so they tried to at least let you have ready-made options for your specific use case, even if it causes some balkanization.

Shortly Begging For Tagged Unions

What I miss from C# is more powerful generic bounds/constraints and tagged unions (or sum types or discriminated unions or type unions or any of the other 5 names this concept has).

The generic constraints you can use in C# are anemic and combined with the lack of tagged unions this is rather painful at times.

I remember seeing Microsoft devs saying they don't see enough of a usecase for tagged unions. I've at times wanted to strangle certain people. These two facts are related to one another.

My stance is that if you think your language doesn't need or benefit from tagged unions, either your language is very weird, or, more likely you're out of your goddamn mind. You are making me do really stupid things every time I need to represent a structure that can EITHER have a value of type A or a value of type B.

But I think C# will eventually get tagged unions. There's a proposal for it here. I would be overjoyed if it got implemented. It seems like it's been getting traction.

Also there was an entire section on unchecked exceptions that I removed because it wasn't interesting enough. Yes, C# could probably have checked exceptions and it didn't and it's a mistake. But ultimately it doesn't seem to have caused any make-or-break in a comparison with Java, which has them. They'd all be better off with returning an Error<T>. Short story is that the consequences of unchecked exceptions have been highly tolerable in practice.

Ecosystem State & FOSSness

C# is better than ever and the tooling ecosystem is better than ever. This is true of almost every language, but I think C# receives a rather high amount of improvements per version. Additionally the FOSS story is at its peak.

Roslyn, the bedrock of the toolchain, the compiler and analysis provider, is under MIT license. The fact that it does analysis as well is important, because this means you can use the wealth of Roslyn analyzers to do linting.

If your FOSS tooling lets you compile but you don't get any checking as you type, then your development experience is wildly substandard.

A lot of stupid crap with cross-platform compilation that used to be confusing or difficult is now rather easy to deal with. It's basically as easy as (1) use NET Core, (2) tell dotnet to build for Linux. These steps take no extra effort and the first step is the default way to write C# these days.

Dotnet is part of the SDK and contains functionality to create NET Core projects and to use other tools to build said projects. Dotnet is published under MIT, because the whole SDK and runtime are published under MIT.

Yes, the debugger situation is still bad -- there's no FOSS option for it, but this is more because nobody cares enough to go and solve it. Jetbrains proved anyone can do it if they have enough development time, since they wrote a debugger from scratch for their proprietary C# IDE Rider.

Where C# falls flat on its face is the "userspace" ecosystem. Plainly put, because C# is a Microsoft product, people with FOSS inclinations have steered clear of it to such a degree that the packages you have available are not even 10% of what packages a Python user has available, for example. People with FOSS inclinations are generally the people who write packages for your language!!

I guess if you really really hate leftpad, you might think this is a small bonus though.

Where-in I talk about Cross-Platform

The biggest thing the ecosystem has been lacking for me is a package, preferably FOSS, for developing cross-platform applications. Even if it's just cross-platform desktop applications.

Like yes, you can build C# to many platforms, no sweat. The same way you can build Rust to many platforms, some sweat. But if you can't show a good GUI on Linux, then it's not practically-speaking cross-platform for that purpose.

Microsoft has repeatedly done GUI stuff that, predictably, only works on Windows. And yes, Linux desktop is like 4%, but that 4% contains >50% of the people who create packages for your language's ecosystem, almost the exact point I made earlier. If a developer runs Linux and they can't have their app run on Linux, they are not going to touch your language with a ten foot pole for that purpose. I think this largely explains why C#'s ecosystem feels stunted.

The thing is, I'm not actually sure how bad or good the situation is, since most people just don't even try using C# for this usecase. There's a general... ecosystem malaise where few care to use the language for this, chiefly because of the tone that Microsoft set a decade ago. It's sad.

HOWEVER.

Avalonia, A New Hope?

Today we have Avalonia. Avalonia is an open-source framework that lets you build cross-platform applications in C#. It's MIT licensed. It will work on Windows, macOS, Linux, iOS, Android and also somehow in the browser. It seems to this by actually drawing pixels via SkiaSharp (or optionally Direct2D on Windows).

They make money by offering migration services from WPF app to Avalonia. Plus general support.

I can't say how good Avalonia is yet. I've researched a bit and it's not obviously bad, which is distinct from being good. But if it's actually good, this would be a holy grail for the ecosystem:

You could use a statically typed language that is productive for this type of software development to create cross-platform applications that have higher performance than the Electron slop. That's valuable!

This possibility warrants a much higher level of enthusiasm than I've seen, especially within the ecosystem itself. This is an ecosystem that was, for a while, entirely landlocked, only able to make Windows desktop applications.

I cannot overstate how important it is for a language's ecosystem to have a package like this and have it be good. Rust is still missing a good option. Gnome is unpleasant to use and buggy. Falling back to using Electron while writing Rust just seems like a bad joke. A lot of the Rust crates that are neither Electron nor Gnome tend to be really really undercooked.

And now I've actually talked myself into checking out Avalonia... I mean after writing all of that I feel like a charlatan for not having investigated it already.

[pygmi-cygni]

T Minus Ten

remember that miguel fic I talked about....

here she is!!!!

series warning: eventual smut (light), angst, pining, lovesickness, adorable migs, enemies (?) to lovers, more like emotionally repressed to infatuated, angst, miscommunication, as many tropes as I can possibly manage

warnings for this chapter: lots of exposition, medical inaccuracies, introduction basically, canon violence

miguel o'hara x reader (afab) no description other than reader is v strong and has some small tattoos on hands (important later i swear)

enjoy!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

The medical field was essentially obsolete in the Spiderverse. It takes hundreds of years to name a disease, let alone cure it, and then to add in the factors of different biology, different gravitational boundaries, bacterial possibilities....you honestly just felt like hanging up your lab coat and starting an Etsy.

Each branch of the Multiverse was grouped in the extensive medbay located in HQ. The branches with the most similar biology and treatment varieties were closest together. Every spider was given their hall number that had any resources they'd need depending on their genetic makeup.

It was tough work, remembering where everyone was from and the unique characteristics that came with them. Especially when some varieties blurred the lines.

Namely one.

Miguel O'Hara, head of this shit-show and arguably the biggest pain in the ass you'd ever seen, rarely found himself in need of the medical ward's services. Which is probably why nobody thought to figure this problem out.

See, most spider-people were predominantly human. The spider that bit them had only added on to existing capability: extreme strength that improved muscle mass, improved grip on fingers...the only 'inhuman' factor was the webbing.

Miguel had a slightly different build. His DNA had been spliced; like two ropes being braided together. The spider DNA had rebuilt his human DNA, therefore it didn't follow the same pattern in response to medicine or bandages. Which made his medical aversion a little more realistic.

Either way, it didn't matter how much he hated doctors, he couldn't fix a poisoned spear through his chest with an at-home first aid kit.

Eight of HQ's most qualified doctors sat around various scans of the monstrous Spiderman, puzzling through the bizarre data. Your education had been focused on epidemiology, or the spread of disease. Poison wasn't really your thing, but you thought it might be cool to watch.

Dr. Ben Parkinson, the 'head' doctor, was explaining the possible treatments.

"It doesn't seem to be deadly," he reasoned, "but prolonged exposure without medication might have some deteriorating effects." He pointed to a highlighted area of the wound. "See, the muscle tissue is deteriorating, and long-term deterioration could be permanent."

The medical staff shot amused glances at one another, trying to imagine Miguel as anything other than a hulking boulder of muscle.

Ben rolled his eyes and tapped the scans. "Do we have any base vitals for him? Any logged info?"

Maria, his assistant, scrolled on her tablet. "Uhhhh....negative on that. Looks like he hasn't done his immunos either."

You frowned. When HQ had established itself with a medbay, you and the few other nurses had done rounds to make sure any necessary vaccines and medications had been administered. How did we skip him?

"New plan," Ben said slowly, "let's get him up to date and then we'll evaluate. he's relatively stable right now, so let's keep up the current treatment and move from there, yeah?"

He looked at you. "You're the nurse responsible for his wing, right? Do you mind doing his vitals and reporting back?"

You nodded, faltering. What if the spider DNA screwed up his vitals? His resting heartrate was probably higher, and his metabolism had to be insane...the rest of the staff clearly did not share your concern, glad to be rid of the Miguel problem.

Maria handed you her tablet and gave you an apologetic smile. "At least the sedatives will stop him from scratching you," she whispered in your ear.

You shuddered. Here goes nothing.

Miguel was laid out on two beds with the guardrails removed. He couldn't fit on one, so the staff had to quickly improvise. You tried to hum a calming tune, hyperaware of the large claws hanging off the blanket.

Even though he was unconscious, a ripple of fear went through you. He was enormous. If he got mad....you shuddered.

Tenderly, you angled your stethoscope under the mess of tubes feeding into his chest. His skin was unbelievably warm, and you pursed your lips. Definitely feverish. You took his heart rate, tried as gently as you could to do his blood pressure, and measured his blood sugar on the dial near his bed.

Well.

His DNA was definitely strange, because all of his vitals pointed to cardiac arrest and a 104F fever.

"What...the fuck?" He should be dead by those numbers.

You did everything twice more, just to be sure. Still the same. Elevated heart rate, high temperature, and blood pressure that wasn't physically possible.

It confirmed your theory. That meant you had to do a full body scan, analyze the numbers, try to find some kind of pattern....ugh.

His hands were beginning to twitch, and you scurried out of the small room. He'd likely be pissed, waking up in a hospital room with a poisoned stake sticking out of his chest.

Reading through his file, you chewed on your pinky nail. Apparently, a new variant of Green Goblin had been discovered on the fringes of a random universe. It produced a highly acidic venom, the same that had infected the rebar impaling Miguel. The science labs were analyzing the poison, and little info had been found.

Corrosive, acidic, highly destructive on human tissue.

Huh.

Miguel seemed to be holding up okay. Explains the elevated temperature and heart rate. His body was cranking out energy, repairing the damage almost as soon as it occurred.

A grin teased its way onto your face. This was the part of your job that you loved. The puzzle, all the little bits that opened up a bigger picture and eventually, the solution.

You wrote up his chart with your hypothesis and sent it to Dr Ben. Tomorrow would be exciting, to say the least.

-

Exciting was one word for it. Apparently your prediction was correct: Miguel was decidedly not happy with his living situation at the moment. The nurse who'd gone in to give him his IV had dodged a flying chair, and it had escalated from there. Jess had intervened, resorting to an anomaly cage to keep him secure.

After that frazzling morning, Ben was ready for some good news. You were excitedly explaining the deductions you'd found last night, when a small knock came from the office door.

Gwen, one of the newer spiders, shyly poked her head in. Ben went to shoo her away, but you beckoned her in warmly.

Wait a second, you nodded to your boss, and he sat back with a sigh.

The young woman's colored hair hung limp and unwashed. She had been on the backup team to help Miguel and his crew, and the fallout had been hard on her. It was a big mission, especially for a rookie. She was struggling.

"Hi, Gwen, how are you today?" You pulled over a chair, nodding at her to sit. She folded her hands tightly and didn't meet your eyes.

"'M fine," she mumbled, fidgeting with her hoodie. You grabbed the notes you'd taken earlier and a pen.

"...Do...you wanna talk about it? Anything you remember, something we might have missed?"

The room was quiet as you waited. Ben shot you an exasperated look and nodded towards the clock. Not much time.

You sighed and leaned forwards. "it's okay if you don't have anything, Gwen, but we want Miguel to get better, so if you remember-"

"He was glitching," she blurted, cheeks flaming.

You exchanged another glance with Ben.

"He...when the..."she gestured vaguely, "spear thingy went into him, he started glitching. Like, really bad."

That made you stop. "Was...did you see his watch fall off at any point?"

She shook her head sharply. "No. It was like as soon as the venom hit him, he glitched. and it didn't stop until Jess and the guys got there. He was..." she shuddered, and you patted her arm comfortingly.

Though you did technically have spider abilities, you would never in a thousand years want to be fighting. You couldn't imagine dealing with that every day, especially at Gwen's age. You made a mental note to ask the psychiatrist for a check in.

"What were the details of the mission? was there anything specific about the Goblin that made him so strange?" As a member of the med crew, you didn't have access to mission files.

Gwen nodded, wiping her eyes. "Yeah. He was portal jumping like crazy. Miguel was so pissed," she laughed weakly, "he was jumping in circles like a cat."

"Was he glitching?"

"No, he was fine. It was weird...like he somehow belonged to all of the dimensions. We chased him through three different ones before..." A glazed look came over her, and you figured she needed a break.

"Thank you Gwen," you said gently, walking her to the door, "you've been very helpful. Get some rest, honey."

Watching her shuffle down the hall, you puzzled with the information she'd given.

What the fuck was going on?

Ben's serious look confirmed your bewilderment. This was clearly a bigger problem than you anticipated.

"We should give that to the labs," he pointed to your notepad. "They'll wanna know that info."

You nodded wordlessly, handing it over. What did that mean for Miguel? If this Goblin wasn't following the multiverse rules, was there even a possibility of fighting this?

Ben disappeared around the hall as you groaned into your hands. The excitement of the last 36 hours had done a number on you. Despite your heightened energy levels, you still felt sluggish. Flipping to the surveillance footage, you peeked in on your burly patient.

He was laying awake, the sharp spikes on his heart monitor indicating his agitation. His limbs were lightly restrained to keep him from disabling the glowing red net cast over him.

Oddly, you felt bad.

It was hard enough being injured and alone, but he was being treated like a prisoner. Poor guy. No wonder he doesn't socialize much.

Figuring you had some time, you grabbed your med kit and strolled down to his room. Maybe he'd have a good explanation of his situation. He was a renowned geneticist, after all.

The spider positioned outside his door gave you a wary look. "Miss, you might wanna-"

"Doctor," you corrected crisply, "and I'd like to see my patient."

The young man hesitated, but let you through anyway. He rambled about precautions and avoiding Miguel's temper, but you weren't listening.

His eyes were red.

A bitter, furious shade of scarlet that made your tongue dry and your heart cower. He was pulsing with so much restrained energy that you felt three times smaller. Again you were reminded of his size. You clutched your kit and dismissed the guard.

Fuck fuck fuck.

Despite his condition, Miguel could still easily snap your arms in half. Sharp canines dug into his lower lip. Maria's earlier comment came back to you. I'm more worried about the teeth than the claws, honey.

"Miguel?" Your voice was surprisingly stable, though quiet.

He blinked but gave no further answer. Swallowing, you walked slowly around to the side of his bed and sat. His straining thighs were inches away. The net hummed gently, resisting any movement.

You squinted against the bright threads. Miguel continued to scowl, eyes narrowing to slits. Trying to breathe steadily, you pulled out a capped syringe.

"I'm going to give you your vaccines is that alright?" stay calm stay calm oh my god oh holy fuck-

A singular, clawed finger poked through the net.

"Be my guest, mija."

He'd broken the restraints.

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part two out on Aug 18! love you xox

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