#literally just found out a few hours ago and couldn’t not do something!!! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

slater-baby · 6 months ago

Note

Hi slater I saw that you do requests now and I can’t stop thinking about this prompt so I RAN to your ask box

Imagine if Simon had like a girlfriend or wife that he hid from the 141 bc he’s scared to put her in danger but then he accidentally ends up mentioning her anyway? Imagine how cute their reaction would be :(((((

Anyway I love Texas Red rn literally what I sleep eat and breathe <3 hope you’re doing well lovely

- 🐙 anon

Im gonna call u Octo Anon cause somehow that goes well in my mind lol hope you enjoy the story!! Tags: drinking, recreational drug use (weed), drunken confessions, banter, newlyweds, pure tooth-rotting fluff, whipped!Simon

Six months.

It had been six painfully long months since they’d been sent on this blasted deployment. A deployment which, to no short degree, went off the rails the minute they hopped off the transport. They’d been stuck in the ass end of the Mexican jungle, working a joint operation to see a few two-bit traffickers into their maximum security cells in the United States.

Thinking back on it now, it was far from the most dangerous operation they’d ever been sent on, but if the misadventures they’d had had been any less hilarious, he might have been inclined to say the short deployment would live on in his nightmares.

First, a private had accidentally locked the keys to one of their armored trucks inside the car. Price had been livid, shouting loud enough that the enemy might as well have had their direct position on UAV. Needless to say, it took three hours, two crow bars, and five men over 220 to crack the doors in time to make it back for evening mess.

Then, Soap’s detonators had fizzled out halfway through an infiltration.

“Fuck do you mean they’re blitzed?!” Simon had yelled through the heavy gunfire, ducking behind a tree trunk when a bullet came whizzing by his face.

“Means the cap’s fucked,” Soap had yelled back, crouching in a pile of wires that were all too complicated for Simon to understand.

“Get it fuckin’ fixed, will ya?! I got thirty men out here, and I’m not burying ‘em until we’re back at base—”

“Have some patience, LT—”

“Patience?!” Simon had growled, pinning Johnny with a pointed stare, “Another word, MacTavish, and send you out there myself.”

“Just—” Soap grunted, stripping another wire, “Got my wires crossed or something—”

A blaze had consumed the battlefield, a shockwave big enough to make Simon stumble on his feet rocking the earth. A tense quiet had ensued, punctuated by falling tree limbs. The gun shots had halted immediately. Panting, he’d looked down at Soap’s confused face.

“Oh…” the sergeant had chuckled, holding up the detonator for Simon to look at, “Guess it was the yellow wire then.”

And even after all that, there were no shortage of stupid mistakes on base that had nearly cost him his sanity. A few privates suspiciously AWOL (who’d eventually been found blind drunk at a tequila bar after a five alarm fire and an intense search of the entire base). An air raid siren that malfunctioned the minute the lot of them were finally down to sleep. And to cap it all off, a session with a group of green recruits who wanted to observe a few SAS soldiers in their prime. One thing led to another, and when an errant misfire at the gun range nearly landed in Simon’s foot, he would have swum all the way back to England just to get a night of peace and quiet in his own damn house.

However, all’s well that end’s well, he supposes. No use in complaining about it now—especially when the mission had bore such impressive fruits. In the end, all three of the targets they’d been searching for had gone away in cuffs, and to top it all off, the leader of the cartel in question was coincidentally at the meeting they’d raided just hours ago—an absolute miracle by all counts.

Another success. Another name crossed off the Most Wanted List. And another long night of celebration before they headed back to Europe. All things considered, it couldn’t have ended better.

Though, that isn’t to say they were any more professional than they’d been when they’d gotten here.

“Soap,” he’d groaned, deadpan.

“C’mon, Ghost, lighten up,” Johnny had drawled, sticking the smoke between his teeth.

“What the hell is that?” He’d pointed to the smoke in question.

“Nothin’, LT. Just…” he’d shrugged, lighting up, “…not baccy.”

“Fuckin’ hell,” Simon remarked, pinching his nose bridge, “Y’know, Price’ll have you by the balls if he sees you smoking that.”

“Not if I offer him a hit first,” Soap answered, blowing a ring of smoke, “Old bastard’s got back pain, y’know…”

“Fuckin’ hell…”

Simon had shaken his head, taking a deep breath of the cool night air. Beyond the fence of the base, he’d seen the chirping night bugs, glowing fireflies illuminating the woods just on the other end. Out of the corner of his eye, he’d seen another cloud of smoke waft throughout the air. His fingers had tapped against his bicep. His profuse scowl fell with a single twitch of his lip.

“Fine,” he’d relented (all too excitedly), “Give it—before I decide to write you up myself.”

Needless to say, one hit turned into a second…turned into this.

“No—no, that’s against the rules,” Kyle wheezed, bent halfway over in his chair while Soap sat on his knees in the chair across the table, squinting aggressively down at the cups of beer on Kyle’s end.

“It’s fuckin’ not, ye git, now yer just being dramatic—” he wobbled on his knees, barely able to catch himself on the edge of the table before he fell off the chair.

“Hate it break it to you, lads,” Price smirked, feet kicked up against the table while he sipped on a finger of whiskey, “But beer pong ain’t exactly meant to be played sitting down…don’t even know what rules you’re yapping about…”

“Shut up, Price,” both of them had drunkenly snapped, and Price acquiesced with two raised hands.

Somehow, the night had come to this. The four of them in the basement of the watchman’s tower, surrounded in all the army fanfare one could expect. Open bottles of Jack Daniels. Old posters of bikini models on the concrete walls. Metal music blaring through a tinny bluetooth speaker.

Soap had bought too much weed for his own good. Which—when combined with a near lethal dose of liquor—had all of them blazed off of their faces. Captain, included. At least, if they got written up, their leading officer’s signature could bail them out. Not like the MP wouldn’t keep their mouths shut for a few hits, anyway.

Now, Kyle and Johnny were an hour into a game of beer pong, adding a new rule seemingly every second just to keep things interesting. First, you had to drink two cups for every point the other person scored. Then, you had to balance a shot of tequila on your shoulder when you threw. And now, you had to be sitting in a chair that was at least a foot away from the edge of the table when it was your turn.

The two of them were so smashed this round alone had taken them forty five minutes at least. And—judging by the way Soap was wobbling on his knees—it would be another forty five minutes at the very least.

“Just fucking throw already,” Kyle giggled.

“Shut up, Gaz, m’allowed to take my time—”

With a look of sloshed concentration, Soap inelegantly chucks the ping pong ball across the table, arm wound up like a baseball pitcher just to get it in the cup without a bounce. It smacks Kyle in the chest, knocking over a cup of beer, and before he can even curse, the wheels of the chair slide out from under him, and Johnny lands face first on the concrete floor.

The sound of it is so loud it rings around the walls. The laughter that ensues is so raucous the boys on watch duty upstairs are no doubt getting an earful.

“Fuck—” Gaz wheezes, clutching his stomach.

Simon manages to stifle a laugh with another sip of beer. But when Price suddenly jerks forward, a spray of whiskey leaving his mouth, Simon can’t contain his own laughter for even a second longer. His chuckles are deep and hoarse, a sound that was so scarcely heard Soap stops his whining just to straighten up in awe.

But, hell, even if the three of them are staring at him like he’s grown a second head, Simon can’t stop it. No, he laughs until he’s nearly blue in the face, coughing around the remnants of the beer in his mouth.

“Damn,” Kyle peers curiously over at him, drunken gaze so amusing it only makes him laugh harder, “Looks like you broke him…”

“Not broken,” he manages brokenly, clearing his throat to try and appear a bit more sober, but he’s far too sloshed to hide the way that he smiles, “Y’just look like an idiot is all.”

“M’not an idjit—”

“Just proves his point,” Price chips in.

“Whatever,” Soap sighs, standing up and dusting him off, “You bastards’re no fun anyway…”

For a second, the conversation drops out and only the music on the speaker can be heard. Idly, Simon looks down at his watch, however, with that simple movement, his head spins viciously, and he takes a deep breath just to steady himself.

“Anybody got a pack o’ menthols?” Kyle suddenly chimes in, “Already smoked through mine…”

Simon hums, propping his hip up to reach into his jeans pocket to rifle around, “Think I got another pack…”

“Which brand?”

“Newport.”

“Braw,” Soap reaches over the table, “You lads want another round?”

“I miss Nando’s,” Gaz sighs, lazily fiddling with the beer bottle in his lap.

“Fuck, that sounds good,” Soap hazily leans onto his shoulder, eyes closed, like if he thought hard enough, he might be able to conjure the taste of it on his tongue. Truthfully, Johnny was a bit too drunk to conjure up anything beyond the taste of Don Julio, but even that seemed a little far fetched at the moment.

They’d been doing this for a while now, going back and forth with all the things they wanted after deployment ended. It was a mindless game, one they probably wouldn’t even remember in the morning. Hell, even Simon was getting loose in the lips, droning on and on about some magical dish he’d been aching for. Honestly, it was so surprising to see him open up that the three of them were all but speechless to reply, listening intently as he stumbled through an incoherent explanation. Hell, at this point, they’d listen to him talk nonsense so long as his coworkers got a glimpse into the mysterious life he lived when he was off base.

Over the years, the most he’d talked about was the gym that he frequented, and which groceries he bought for dinner. In all honesty, it was hard to imagine Ghost outside of those two particular scenarios. Ghost, lifting weights for hours on end, some acrid black metal blaring in his headphones. Ghost, puttering through the grocery store with a surgical mask on, trolley chock full of sad TV dinners and beer cans. To Johnny, it seemed like Simon only came out of his shell on base, amongst his friends. But as a civillian…

Yeah, Johnny can practically imagine him sitting in his darkened flat, scarfing down protein bars and counting down the days until they were back on the job.

Coworker gossip aside, all the food talk was making Johnny’s stomach rumble, and the fact that they’d be back in the UK just past one in the morning was not helping the vicious craving he had for Peri Peri chicken.

“I miss sausage rolls,” he slurs. God, when had Kyle’s shoulder gotten so comfortable? Somewhere between pint three and four?

“Jaffa cakes,” Price offers.

“Fuck,” Kyle groans, head thrown back against the sofa cushions.

Simon mumbles something underneath his breath. It’s slurred and nearly incoherent. Johnny peaks open a single eye to look over at where he sits in his stool, leant up against the wall because he was too drunk to sit up straight anymore. Idly, he laughs. God, if only the guys on the other side could see him now: the infamous Ghost, blackout drunk next to some faded Playboy poster.

Fuck.

Soap has half a mind to take a picture of it if only so that he could tease Simon about it when they were nursing hangovers on the plane tomorrow morning.

However, Simon doesn’t make to speak up again, and the rest of them don’t comment. Instead, they continue sipping on their final drinks, all of them watching with rapt attention as the ceiling fan makes another circle.

“Miss my couch,” Price suddenly chimes.

Another few seconds. Another few circles.

“I miss steak pie,” he suddenly finds himself drawling eyes unwittingly closed, “The one my ma used to make…”

“Chicken dippers—the kind you put in the oven…” Gaz responds, “And fresh chips.”

“Chicken noodle soup,” Price hums, “Mum used to make the best…”

Just imagining the taste, Johnny could burst into tears. God, it’s been a long six months, eating nothing but mess hall mashed potatoes and MREs. He’s just about to chime in when Simon’s arm shifts against the wall and he manages a slurred sentence.

“Pasta and shrimp,” he says, voice unfocused like the reply was completely unconscious, “With…white wine and butter…”

At that, Soap furrows his brows—even with his eyes still closed. Simon drank white wine? Simon “Ghost” Riley, the man who wore a literal human skull on his face and had a tattoo of an AK-47 on his forearm, drank white wine and ate shrimp pasta when he was off duty?

Hm.

Never guess a book by its cover, he supposes.

Another silence ensues, one that’s punctuated with the somber, quiet atmosphere of the early morning and months without comfort. Now that the beer has dried up, and the battery on the speaker had died, there was nothing left except for a quiet yearning for a place that wasn’t here. A place that was faraway and over seas, full of life and love, as well as all the people who were waiting for them to come back.

“I miss doing the laundry,” Price says, voice…unreadable.

“Miss going grocery shopping,” Gaz huffs quietly.

“I miss…” Johnny beings, nearly falling asleep, “I miss going home.”

With that, it all drops dead. There’s no more fanfare, no more celebration. Not for what they’d achieved or what they’d done. There was only reality, cold and hard, weighing on their shoulders like a barbell.

That is, until Simon makes a long sigh, clumsily leaning his elbows on his knees. He swipes over his face, tired and smashed.

“Fuck,” he says, “I miss my wife.”

At that, three pairs of eyes shoot open all at once. Suddenly, sleep seems like a faraway dream. And even if his head spins, Johnny straightens up in his chair.

“What?” Kyle asks, voice so sharp Soap would have thought he was sober.

“Miss my wife,” Simon drawls, taking a breath, “It’s been…six months.”

“But…” Soap furrows his brows, sending Price a questioning look from across the room. Even the Captain seems puzzled, sending Johnny an eager nod in approval.

“But…you have a wife?” Soap manages, wiping his eyes to see Simon’s exposed smile even a little bit clearer.

“‘Course I fuckin’ do,” he answers, nearly falling off of his stool when he straightens back up, “She’s waitin’ for me back home. Doesn’t know I’ll be back tomorrow…”

“But you have a wife?!” Kyle edges, leaning forward on his elbows like this was astonishing news. And Johnny does, too, because of course it fucking was. His lieutenant? Married? Had hell frozen over?

“What?” Simon glances around the room, lips pulled into a clumsy scowl, as if the answer were obvious, “Price has a wife. S’not all that weird…”

“Had,” Price corrects, taking another gulp of beer, “Divorced last year.”

“Whatever,” Simon flippantly waves his hand, leaning back into the wall like he could pass out at a moments’ notice, “Fuck the lot of you. My wife is...Fuck, I miss her.”

“No—didn’t mean it like that, it’s just…” Kyle swallows, trying valiantly to wrack his brain for any singular instance where Simon could have mentioned a girlfriend, “Never heard how the two of you met.”

“I didn’t tell you?”

“Guess I just forgot,” Gaz lies through his teeth.

“Mm…” Simon swipes his palm over his stubble, head lolling, “Met her a couple years ago. She lived across the hall. Y’know, neighbors ’n all that shite…”

As Simon readies himself to speak another word, Price leans forward, too, the three of them watching with equal amounts of bewilderment as Simon explains his supposed “wife.” If he was being truthful, Johnny still didn’t believe it. To have a pretty little thing waiting for him at home, cooking him dinners with white wine and grilled shrimp…sue him if it all feels like a grand lie. Another joke Simon would play on them.

“She brought me biscuits when she moved in,” Simon huffs, eyebrows raised like he was imagining the taste of it himself, “God, they were so good…I miss that. Her biscuits. She makes ‘em so good. Cherry pie, too…She makes ‘em on movie night. Whole batches of ‘em. She doesn’t even complain when I eat ‘em all. She just makes more. Fuck, she’s too sweet…”

Simon rubs his fingers over his eyes, mouth closing—like he didn’t have an entire audience captivated with his drunken slurs.

“And…?” Gaz prompts, practically unblinking.

“Well…I mean, when I opened the door I hated it,” he snorts, unconsciously smiling, “‘Cause I don’t want some neighbour makin’ a racket when I get home from work, y’know?”

“Yeah.”

“Totally.”

“Completely understandable.”

“But then…” Simon rubs over his lips, eyes hazy, “Had to return the container. ’N so I went over one night, and she was makin’ dinner. Said she didn’t have any friends in the city, and…I felt bad so I ate with her.”

Kyle scrunches his face, sending Soap a questioning look. He leans over to Johnny’s ear, letting out a conspicuous whisper.

“Some romance this is,” he jokes, chortling.

Soap’s inclined to agree. The most romance he could imagine for his lieutenant would be a hookup in the bar bathroom, nothing more. Home made cookies and white wine dinners with the girl next door seems like a pipe dream…

“So you got with her cause she cooks well?” Price asks, smirking.

“What?” Simon’s lips curl into a snarl, and he glares in Price’s direction, “What makes you think that?”

“Nothin’ just…” Price quirks his head, smirk widening into a smile.

“No,” Simon growls, passionate but much too inebriated to make it eloquent. Price chuckles, raising his hands in faux surrender, “S’not that, she’s just…she’s so good to me.”

“So, then,” Kyle stifles a laugh, “You got with her because—”

“Don’t talk about m’wife like that,” He warns, rolling his eyes, “She’s too sweet for that. Didn’t let me kiss her until the third date…”

“So you dated her?” Soap asks in awe, “Like, for how long?”

“For…” Simon concentrates, taking in a low inhale, “Until December…Before we came out here.”

At that, the three of them send each other confused looks, brows scrunched.

“So she was dating you until you came out here?” Kyle pushes, “I thought you said that she was your wife…”

“She is,” he hums dreamily, a small smile overcoming his scarred lips, “Went to the courthouse ’n everything. Gave her my last name. She said she didn’t wanna let me go until I made her mine…’n so I did. Don’t tell her, but I like it like that. Her havin’ my name. It sounds prettier with mine right next to hers.”

“Yeah?” Price chuckles, hiding behind his bottle, “’N what’s her name?”

Simon lolls his head to look at Price, clumsily readjusting himself in his seat. He crosses his arms over his chest, trying and failing to look as intimidating as he is when he’s sober.

“Not telling you,” he sighs, “You lot would just fuck with her…”

“No, I swear we won’t,” Johnny scoots up in his seat, “Just…c’mon, Ghost, what is it?”

Simon’s eyes are pensive as he looks down at Soap, worrying his cheek. That is, until he opens his mouth.

“Definitely not tellin’ you, MacTavish,” he grunts, “Don’t want some git like you hittin’ on my wife…”

Soap’s face falls, unduly offended. Price and Kyle, however, only laugh just that much harder, practically spitting up liquor with every noise. Johnny, however, can only cross his arms in anger.

“Whatever, s’not like the lass even exists anyway,” Soap rolls his eyes, gesturing towards Simon’s inebriated state, “What’s next, Simon? Gonna say she goes to another school or some shite?”

“Just ‘cause I got a pretty thing at home doesn’t mean you have to be jealous, Johnny,” he defends himself, “Just upset that I got a girl who loves me ’n you don’t…”

“M’not jealous—”

“No, no, Johnny’s right, Simon,” Price interjects, shoving Johnny back with a hand against his chest, “it’s just…no offense, but you haven’t talked about her…well, uh—not that much, anyway. And her being your wife…I mean, I don’t quite believe it.”

“What, gonna ask me for pictures or something?” Simon screws his face up in disgust, “Yeah, right…Try ’n cop a look and I’ll lay you flat.”

Before Johnny can ask for said pictures (let alone what kind of photos Simon had of his supposed “wife”) John nails him with a look, zipping his mouth shut.

“No, not that just…” Price shrugs, gesturing towards Simon’s phone on the table, “Call her or something. Tell her you’re coming home tomorrow. Sure she’d love to hear from you.”

“No, not right now,” Simon groans, resting his arms on the table, “Fuck…she gets mad when m’drunk. Doesn’t want me out late. She gets scared when she’s at home alone, wants me there to keep her safe. She needs me at home, y’know…She doesn’t sleep well when she has the bed to herself. Can’t be sloshed like this…”

“Well,” John smiles, “All the more reason to tell her you’re coming home tomorrow, yeah? It’ll be fine, just…call her.”

Simon seems to debate it for a moment, wavering in his spot on the stool. Meanwhile, Price, John, and Johnny all watch with rapt attention, just waiting for the other shoe to drop. When Simon reaches to tap at his phone screen, navigating through the apps on pure muscle memory, they’re on the edge of his seat. But when he taps a contact, the ambient sounds of a tone ringing, they’re nearly vibrating—that is, until the ringing halts with a spur of static.

“Hello?” A female voice answers.

Instantly, all three of them go from lounging in their chairs to leaning over the table in utter disbelief, staring down at the screen with unblinking eyes.

“Hey, love,” Simon calls, the word slipping out of his mouth like it was second nature.

“Simon?” You ask, “Is that you?”

Your voice peaks around his name, some ambient shuffling in the background as you no doubt stood up from wherever you’d been sitting before—delighted to hear from him.

“Yeah, it’s me, love.”

“Hey,” you say in response, an awed giggle exiting your mouth, “I—I thought that I wouldn’t hear from you for another week…”

“No, just…finished the mission early. Cuffed the bastards like…five hours ago. It’s just me ’n the boys now.”

“Really?” You exclaim, a broad smile in your voice, “You’re not lying?”

“No, love, I was jus’ calling ‘cause I wanted to tell you I’ll be home tomorrow.”

Simon’s voice is softer around the words, kinder. Almost like he thought the rough baritone of his voice would grate on your ears. Well, that, or he was just too drunk to hide how infatuated he was with you. Hell, the smile on his face—small and imperceptible—was almost so telling Johnny would have thought you were standing right in front of him if he hadn’t heard your voice coming through the speakers.

However, Johnny’s a little too busy to articulate that particular thought right now. No, his jaw was firmly on the table, listening to Simon sweet talk his wife through the phone line.

Simon had a wife.

Simon had a bloody wife and he didn’t fucking tell them.

The mangey bastard, Soap whips his head around to look at Simon, about ready to curse at him before you speak up again.

“So it all went well? You’re—you’re not hurt are you?”

“No, just tired…” Simon huffs, “Wanna fuckin’ sleep, and…I wanna go to Gregg’s when I get back.”

At that, you can’t contain the flowery laugh you release. It’s so melodic Soap has a hard time connecting Simon’s monologue with the vision of you he’s getting now.

Pretty thing like you showed up at his flat, a box of cookies in hand, with that sweet voice and beautiful laugh and Simon didn’t jump at the chance? Fucking unbelievable.

Though, looking at the man now, Johnny has no doubt that Simon was about ready to get down on his knees and kiss the ground that you walked on. Literally. He seemed about drunk enough to do it, too.

“Simon,” you scoff, “Are you drunk?”

At the dreaded question, Simon sighs all too obviously, closing his eyes, “Yeah.”

You don’t get angry. No, you only giggle to yourself once more, a quiet exasperation in your voice.

“Babe,” you huff, and Soap imagines that you cross your arms, “Y’know, you can have Gregg’s any time you want…Don’t you want a dinner at home before we leave for Italy?”

“Italy?” Kyle raises his eyebrows, whispering.

Johnny does the same. Only, the alcohol catches up to him before he can pretend to be subtle.

“You’re going to Italy right after ye get home?” He asks Simon, nearly yelling.

“Shut up, Soap, m’talking to my girl right now,” Simon grunts, too sloshed to be mad.

“Who was that?” You interject, but before Soap can reach for the phone, Simon clumsily shoves him away.

“No one you should talk to, love,” he shakes his head like you could see it through the phone, “Just…yeah, you’re right.”

“Okay, then,” you laugh, “Well, what do you wanna eat? I’ll have it made before you get home.”

Simon considers the question for a few seconds, like it was of monumental importance to him. When he speaks, he speaks precisely…even if it is slurred with alcohol.

“Can you make that—that pasta? Y’know, like, with the shrimp and the wine…”

“You mean white wine pasta?”

“Yeah, that one…”

“White wine pasta…” Soap furrows his brow, releasing a disbelieving chuckle, “Dinnae know you liked white wine, LT…”

“I don’t…”

“Then why do you want it when—”

“It’s in the pasta,” you laugh, barely able to get through your words without being interrupted, “He doesn’t drink it.”

“Oh,” Soap says stupidly, tempted to introduce himself, if only so that he wouldn’t make a fool out of himself in front of his friend’s wife. But what would he say?

Oh, hello, Mrs. Riley. Sorry, we force fed your husband weed and menthols until he was too high to remember not to tell us about you?

Yeah, he should save the formalities for later.

“Well,” your voice is staticky through the phone, “If that’s it, then I guess that’s fine. You sure you don’t want me to make anything else? It’s been six months."

“I know,” he professes, like it was some grand hurt in his heart, “Fuck…I miss you.”

You only laugh, voice sickly sweet and cloying, “I miss you too, baby. Know when you’ll be home?”

“We’ll be at the airport late…Probably after one.”

“Want me to pick you up?”

“Yeah,” he sniffs, wiping at his face, “Don’t wanna bother with the transport…”

“Got it,” you hum, “I’ll see you then.”

“Okay,” Simon relents, but before he can forget himself, he suddenly perks up, huddling closer to the speaker, “Hey, love, wait a minute.”

“What?”

“When you drive there, promise me you’ll be careful, yeah? The car’s still…fucked,” he explains simply, almost like he couldn’t come up with a way to describe it when he was so drunk, “Just—check the power steering fluid. Make sure it’s topped off. You’ve been doing it like I showed you?”

“Yeah, but…” you make a small noise, “We’re kinda running out…”

“That’s okay, love. Don’t worry about it,” he answers, “So long as its topped off I’ll know you’re safe. I’ll take care of it when I get home…’n I’m not so tired.”

Once again, you chuckle, “Got it, Simon.”

“See you tomorrow?” He asks.

“Yeah, see you tomorrow, baby.”

“Good,” he finishes, letting out a long sigh, “When you get to the airport, wear that white dress. The pretty one, y’know. That way I can pick you out of the crowd.”

“Simon, you don’t have to make an excuse to get me to dress up…”

“Yeah, but…” he smiles down at the phone, looking all too sick and in love, “Want you to look good before we leave for Italy.”

“Don’t worry about that, Simon,” you snort, “I’ll give you a whole tour of all the clothes I bought while you were gone.”

“Can’t wait,” he supplies, eyes closing around the words, “Tomorrow.”

“Yeah, tomorrow.”

“I love you,” he says without even thinking, staring down at your screen name with blackened pupils, “Sleep well, love.”

“I’ll sleep better once you’re home,” you tell him emphatically, “I love you, too, baby.”

With that, the line goes dead, and all that remains is Simon’s swaying form and his friends’ locked jaws. The three of them are so stunned they can barely speak, looking back and forth between Simon’s face and his phone like all of this would suddenly start making sense the more they wracked their brains about it.

“M’fucking knackered,” Simon suddenly says, planting his hands on the table top, “Can’t be too tired when I get home tomorrow…”

“Wait—you said you’re gong to Italy when you get back?” Kyle questions, grabbing Simon by the sleeve when he gets up to leave.

“Yeah,” Simon answers—like it was just common sense. Kyle, however, can only roll his eyes.

“Well, what for?”

“Our fuckin’ honeymoon,” Simon shoves Kyle’s hands away, “Just got bloody married and you think I wouldn’t treat my girl right. You lot are fuckin’ twats,” he shakes his head, climbing the stairs before any of them can say another word, “Bloody cavemen. The lot of you.”

They watch, stunned, as Simon scales the stairs, clinging to the hand rail like he’d go tumbling down without it. And judging by his clunky steps, he really might. However, when the door up top opens with a squeak and is slammed closed right after, Soap figures he can leave the man to his own devices tonight. Slowly, the three of them exchange looks between each other, all equally puzzled as the next.

“Honeymoon?” Kyle whispers.

“Simon’s a newlywed?” Price hisses.

Above, they hear Simon’s footsteps plod away, getting lighter and lighter as they go. At that, Soap can only laugh disbelievingly, shaking his head.

“Fuck me,” he curses, staring down at the table in awe. He looks at all the empty bottles, at the brimming ash tray.

“You think if he sleeps it off he’ll forget?”

“Better hope so,” Price sneers, standing from his chair, “Otherwise, he might accuse you of hitting on his wife again.”

Soap deadpans once again, glaring at the captain, “I was not—”

“Yeah, tell the newlywed husband that,” the Captain waves over his shoulder, “Who knows, might pummel your face in before you get back to Edinburgh. Sure the cashier at Nando’s would love to see that.”

“Whatever,” Soap rolls his eyes—not for the first time.

Kyle’s hand claps down on his shoulder, and his friend sends him a widening smile.

“You’re fucked, mate,” he supplies simply.

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ratatoastwrites · 3 months ago

Text

Playing house

Spencer Reid x gn!reader

[this was specifically written with s2 bratty(suffering from withdrawal)!Spencer in mind 🧚‍♀️]

Synopsis: “has a PhD in engineering and thinks that Ikea manuals are for stupid people” boyfriend vs “isn’t really a good handyman but is determined to follow the rules” s/o get into a bit of an argument 🫢

a/n: it’s me woo! did y’all miss me? 🌝 ofc u did!! 🥰 jkjk but umm i was inspired to write this bcuz i actually got a new chair from ikea a few days ago and i almost ripped out all my hair by the time i managed to put it together ✨ i was listening to the Like a Prayer EP from deadpool & wolverine for the whole two (2) hours it took me to put it together as well lmao 🪑 also, the pic on the left of the moodboard is my own ikea manual on the exact page i messed up!! fun 🧚‍♀️ also, did u guys like that i included a synopsis this time? i hope u did ;)

cw: light angst, arguing about something that shouldn’t really be a cause of an argument, reader has one (1) violent thought but doesn’t actually mean it and also doesn’t act on it ofc, allusion to Spencer’s addiction/withdrawal, some kinda unhealthy thoughts, Spencer is a bit 🤏 of an asshole in the beginning, mostly fluffy ending, also kinda rushed ending which is my bad :( sorry

“This is stupid. And you’re doing it wrong.”

You scoffed in exasperation at your boyfriend’s complaints, but otherwise kept your focus on the task at hand.

You’ve been trying to assemble your new desk chair for the past half hour, while Spencer loomed over your hunched figure, like an unhelpful little devil on your shoulder.

“Well, why don’t you do it then?”

You mumbled under your breath, not necessarily wanting him to hear. He did anyway.

“Well, I would. If you weren’t so insistent on using the manual.”

You could quite literally hear the eye roll in his tone, and while you usually didn’t mind his bratty attitude, right now it wasn’t helping your already frustrated mood.

“Oh, right. Silly me, using the manual that tells me how to assemble this piece of- furniture.”

You had to try your hardest not to start cursing, not wanting to let this swedish nightmare of a chair get the better of you. Spencer sighed behind you, and you were secretly hoping that it was a sigh of resignation.

“I have a PhD in engineering, do you really think that I don’t know how to assemble a chair from Ikea?”

Your hopes were proven to be futile, just like every other time you found yourself not seeing eye to eye with your boyfriend. You took a deep breath, not wanting to turn this petty argument into an actual fight.

“I don’t know, Spencer. And I’m not interested in finding out. I just don’t understand what you’re trying to prove by refusing the very idea of using the manual.”

Your tone became a little sharper by the end, although it wasn’t actually aimed at him. As you read over the manual again, you realised that you messed up the last step, cursing quietly under your breath as you had to undo the last eight screws in the armrests.

“Good thing you were using the manual.”

You were seriously contemplating throwing the screwdriver at your boyfriend’s smartass head after his smug comment. However, you just slowly put it down instead, before standing up from your place on the carpet, ignoring the crackling in your knees as you turned around to face him.

“Spencer, I love you more than words could describe, but you’re seriously getting on my last nerve right now. I’m going to make myself a cup of tea, do not follow me please.”

You told him with eerie calmness, before walking out of the living room and towards the kitchen.

You tried to ignore the guilt gnawing at your stomach at how annoyed you’d gotten over something so trivial. You knew that he was going through a rough patch in his life, and you couldn’t blame him for being more annoying than usual. But you couldn’t always have the patience of a saint, and you were already quite worked up about that stupid chair.

‘I just need a few moments of peace. Then I’ll go back and pretend like everything is okay. As per usual.’

You tried telling yourself, blocking out the voices saying how unhealthy that sounded.

You went through the steps of making your tea, doing your best to silence the myriad of emotions swirling in your chest. By the time you finished your hot beverage and put your cup in the sink, all your previous frustrations were gone, replaced by only tiredness. The weight of the day weighed on your shoulders as you dragged yourself back to the living room, although the slight aching in your muscles quickly faded to the back of your mind when you took in the sight waiting for you in there.

“Wh- Spence?”

You were dumbfounded as you looked at your boyfriend, who was standing next to your -now assembled!- chair with a sheepish smile.

“I, uh, put it together for you. All according to the manual, of course.”

His tone was almost shy, and he gave you the sweetest puppy dog eyes imaginable, which never failed to make your heart skip a beat.

“But I thought the manual was stupid.”

You stepped closer to him, still feeling a little confused, but your gaze softened in fondness as you looked at him. He shuffled on his feet a little, glancing between you and the chair awkwardly.

“It is. But it doesn’t matter. According to the studies, most healthy relationships are based on compromises. I guess I just realised that I haven’t been the best boyfriend lately.”

You frowned at his words, stepping even closer to him, until you were almost toe to toe. You didn’t like it when he talked about himself like that, and he quickly understood your expression.

“You know it’s true. You’ve been nothing but patient and accepting since I… And I can’t even swallow my pride for an hour to help you put together a piece of furniture.”

He continued before you could argue, and your heart broke as he trailed off mid-sentence. You knew that it was hard for him to acknowledge what he was going through, and you really wanted to tell him that it was okay, that he didn’t do anything wrong. But you knew that those empty words of comfort wouldn’t do your relationship any good.

“Yeah, I guess that’s true. But Spence, I don’t want you to think that me being there for you is a chore, or a sacrifice. I’m being patient and accepting, because I love you.“

You told him, reaching your hands out to hold his, interlocking your fingers as you smiled at him softly.

“I can’t even imagine what you’re going through. And you being a little annoying about a stupid chair doesn’t make you a bad boyfriend. Not to mention that you ended up putting it together for me.”

You nodded your head towards the aforementioned furniture next to you, squeezing his hand a bit tighter as you smiled at him fondly.

“I don’t deserve you.”

He said softly, tilting his forehead against yours.

“Negative. You deserve only good things in your life.”

You told him, before capturing his lips in a gentle kiss.

The two of you didn’t always agree, and you could both be incredibly stubborn. But at the end of the day there was nothing you wouldn’t do for your beautiful, intelligent, sweetheart of a boyfriend, no matter how much he tested your patience. And you knew that he felt the exact same way about you.

🧚‍♀️🧚‍♀️🧚‍♀️🧚‍♀️🧚‍♀️🧚‍♀️🧚‍♀️🧚‍♀️🧚‍♀️🧚‍♀️🧚‍♀️🧚‍♀️🧚‍♀️🧚‍♀️🧚‍♀️🧚‍♀️🧚‍♀️

Bonus badly edited pic of Spencer in my new chair ✨

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x gn!reader #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds #spencer reid #cm spencer reid #spencer reid angst #barely #spencer reid fluff #kinda #angst to fluff #maybe

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prael · 1 year ago

Text

Trouble

male reader x NMIXX Haewon Masterlist

5.5k words [commissioned work]

this is a follow-up to studious

There’s this thing about trouble. You don’t look for it. It finds you.

Haewon is most certainly trouble. The best kind of trouble. The kind of trouble that, while you know the possible consequences, she makes it all worth it. Anyone could have walked in on her riding you in that classroom, but at the time, you couldn’t have cared less.

***

Not a week later, you find yourself staring down trouble once again. What should have been a normal day at the beach with your friends became a chance encounter with the person you somehow wanted to see both the most and the least right now.

There’s no denying the perks—some of them you spent the past hour admiring. But you can’t shake off the fear that she’s about to cause a scene. After all, you still haven’t found the right words to text her since that evening. Luckily, you had done a successful job of avoiding her until now.

As each minute of the past hour had passed, the tension seemed only to build as you waited for the girl sat only a few meters ahead of you to cause a scene. Your friends passed through a series of conversations you don’t really recall amidst the distraction. There was something about classes, someone’s brother, oh, and a brief mention of the rumour of two unnamed students getting it on in Mr Choi’s classroom—avoiding that conversation was for the best.

Haewon continues rotating through her repetitions. Picking up her phone and scrolling through social media for a while. Taking a drink from her bottle, with her usual habit of taking one small sip before a mouthful. And occasionally taking a short walk around.

You shouldn’t care, but you do. You can’t fight the frustration that she hasn’t spoken to you yet. Yes, you dread her confronting you, but it can’t be worse than being left in the cold. Not even a smile or a customary glance in your direction. It’s inconceivable that she simply hasn’t noticed you. Not even moments ago, she strutted right by where you are sitting. Her short jean shorts sitting at the very top of her thigh passed at eye level. Each step was accompanied by a sway of her hips and a ripple sent down her thighs.

Fuck. Just thinking about it again made your own shorts uncomfortable. Again.

It’s impossible to look away. Haewon has returned to relaxing on her lounger now. Although it looks like she changed the angle of it now and suddenly, as she sits with one leg outstretched and the other bent slightly, she gives you a perfect show.

It could all be a coincidence. Maybe she really hasn’t noticed you. She just happened to walk right by you, she just happened to adjust the angle of her lounger.

However, there is one thing you can be sure of with Haewon; everything she does has a purpose.

You plant your feet into the burning sand and immediately pull them back, recoiling in pain. Better put your sliders on first, idiot. The way Haewon messed with your mind is dangerous, literally.

Aimlessly walking. Salty sea breeze against your face and through your hair. Uneasy footing on the soft sand. Eyes wandering. Down the length of the beach, then out to sea. The crashing waves—rhythmic chaos.

Contrasting the other chaos—that which has no rhythm and is completely unpredictable. That which is right behind you, her strides just a little longer than your own, closing the distance by which she tails you. You couldn’t even get a minute without this woman in your mind today.

“Need a moment to yourself?” It wasn’t a real question, nor an offer to give you one. Moreso a taunt from the lips of Haewon as she places herself by your side.

“I’m just going to, um…” You look ahead and spot the public bathroom, which you are getting close to walking by. “The bathroom.”

“No… You’re just walking away because staring at me for the past hour is getting you a little hot under the collar.”

Haewon has a read on you like no other, and it’s far too uncomfortable. You don’t have a response to her unexpected intuition, instead choosing to grunt and continue walking, picking up the pace a little.

Haewon catches up to you with a little skip in her step. “There’s no need to be embarrassed. I’m sure no one noticed you getting hard. Putting your bag on your lap really helped cover it up.”

With sarcasm in her tone, she mocks you.

You take a moment to swallow that lump in your throat before replying, “that’s not what happened. I just wanted to—”

“Please. You’re going to pretend you haven’t been staring at me for the past hour?”

“No—”

“So, someone else?” Haewon cuts you off again. “It’s that why you never texted me? You must be some kind of player.”

“There’s no one else, Haewon.”

“I knew it was me.”

She’s good. It’s like a chess game, and she’s moving all the right pieces—always putting you in check. There’s no surprise, though; it’s what she does. It’s what she has done to you before—the note in your locker, the timing, the place, her confident words.

“I’m gonna go to the toilet now, Haewon.” You turn away and divert into the thankfully empty single public toilet. You didn’t even need to use it, but it’s impossible to be played if you take all your pieces off the board.

You open the door and slip inside, not looking back at the girl you left on the sand. You pull the door closed behind you but come to a sudden stop when an arm reaches into the gap and stops you. Haewon’s head flicks left and right, scanning the immediate area, her shiny brunette locks flowing as they’re thrown side-to-side.

She slips into the small room with you, slamming the door shut and flicking the lock. Haewon hesitates to turn around, still facing the door. Silence fills the room for a few seconds, and you can’t help but explore her body with your eyes. Following her flowing hair down to her white crop top. One that you mentally praise heavily for the way it reveals her lower back.

Head cocked back. Shoulders shifting. Her chest heaves as she forcefully expels a full breath.

Haewon spins. Her back against the door. Palms open against it too. And behind the loose locks on her face are eyes shining with intent.

Maybe she feels like she’s winning—or already won. This could be checkmate and all that’s left is for you to knock over your king and concede. But you know the truth, and the sense of accomplishment can’t help but force a smile onto your lips. All the avoidance, the refusal to text her, and the distant admiring. The acting like the fool—the flustered young man—who dipped into a bathroom to escape her. Perfect bait.

Haewon steps away from the wall and moves a little closer to you. Okay, maybe all your avoidance wasn’t acting—she does have a way of throwing you off kilter—but at least some of it was. Now locked in this room with Haewon, the result couldn’t have been closer to what you wanted.

Last time it was all her plan. Actions she set in motion and entirely dictated.

However, now as Haewon pushes her slim fingers under the hem of her top and pulls it slowly overhead, she does so on neutral ground. Ground that gratefully accepts the item of clothing as she drops her shirt to the floor.

Your smile becomes a grin as you admire what she revealed. It’s almost a talent in its own right how she had perfectly constructed the scene under her top. She picked a piece of lingerie that was designed with a sole purpose; to show as much as possible without showing everything. The smallest patch of lace possible is placed directly over the nipple, and that was it bar the straps. Cleavage. Side-boob. Under-boob. The whole fucking boob on show.

Haewon takes another step forward. There are maybe two more until she’s up against you, and she seems intent on making each one count. Haewon slips her thumbs under the waistband of her short—really short—shorts.

“Tell me to stop.”

It’s a dare.

Another test.

One of many where she thinks the only acceptable answer is silent awe.

“Don’t stop.” Contradictory. Stern. Not a voice, in tone or content, that you’ve used with Haewon before.

Could be that, given the headstrong young woman she is, she hides it well, but your answer doesn’t break her composure and she forces her shorts away from her hips, letting them hit the floor in a similar fashion to her top.

Although she has no smart remark to return, her actions do the talking as her structured performance continues. Another step, her hands snaking behind her back toward the clasp of her bra. As she plants her left foot, she pops it open—the fabric giving way to the two bundles beneath. Haewon brings her hands to her side, allowing the bra to fall from her body. It lands atop her shorts, still attached to her back foot. With one swift flick, both her shorts and her bra are sent into the corner of the room.

"You should smile like that more."

Unknowingly, unwittingly, Haewon’s exposed body has drawn a smile across your face. You catch yourself and attempt to rein it in a little. However, it's easier said than done while you admire her porcelain skin, which looks so soft to the touch. The line of her waist and how her underwear perfectly accentuates the curve of her hips. And how her two perfect tits still held a perky fullness—looking like a perfect match for the cupped palm of your hands.

Haewon continues, “As much as I appreciate the brewing mystery behind your often blank face, that confident smile is much more exciting. It’s much more you.”

It was sudden, then. Caught off balance, even with your natural charm and wit—the initiative was never yours to take. But Haewon’s right. This time you’re honing in on something. Unearthing a side to you which can take the lead with confidence and a smile. A worthy opponent to her bravado.

"Then keep giving me reasons to smile."

"I'm giving you a reason to do a lot more right now." Haewon reaches out, places her hands on your shoulders and then runs one of them down to your chest. Her soft tones and slow movement contrast how she digs her nails into your skin through your shirt.

She's right. And it's outright foolish to even still be clothed right now. It's easily fixed. You pull the hem of your shirt upwards, and Haewon raises her hands to let it go by before planting them down—now against your bare skin.

"Better," Haewon whispers as she runs her eyes down your upper body. “Now. How about I…” She lets the words roll slowly off her tongue as she buckles one knee and slowly falls to the other.

“Wait.” Determined to have your own say on the pace of this encounter, you halt Haewon. A word accompanied by a hand wrapped around her nape. You pull back as you lean forward, taking her heart-shaped lips with your own. Capturing them with audible assertion, you engage her with gumption. It only lasts a moment before Haewon twists free and captures her breath.

Inches apart, yet connected by a fine silk string of saliva. Lips not touching but still kissed with the heat of each other’s breath. Her eyes holding you in a grasp that her hands couldn’t manage. There’s no guarantee. This could be one of many times, or it could never happen again, so you can forgive yourself for enjoying the heat of this moment for a little.

“No more waiting,” Haewon snaps. Keeping her waiting almost feels criminal—though that’s nothing compared to what will come next.

She slips your grasp and retakes hold of the wheel, driving her way inside your shorts. In the blink of an eye, they’re by your ankles, and her delicate touch meets your delicate parts. Her fingers find their way over every part of your growing cock. She tickles, pulls, tugs and rolls it around in her touch.

“I missed this,” Haewon says under hot breath as she pulls her hands away, admiring your length with only her eyes.

“I missed you,” you confess. And not a word of a lie. How could anyone not miss this pretty girl with her perfect touch?

“Really?” Her expression half one of happiness and half unsure of your honesty.

“Really.” Your answer triggers Haewon’s next move. She positions herself dangerously close to your semi-erect cock, such that each breath kisses it with heat and forces a small twitch. With parted lips, Haewon’s tongue slips from her mouth and hooks it underneath the tip. But she doesn’t rest on her laurels, instead, she pulls her head upwards, her tongue lifting your cock upwards. She holds it there for a second, suspended in the air.

Haewon presses forwards, pursing her lips into a snug fit for the head of your cock. Retracting her tongue to guide you into her. It’s a swift move, one of elegance and precision that ends with most of your cock nestled into her mouth.

You’d be forgiven for thinking that her tongue has done its job, got you where you needed to be and then would take a rest. Alas, it simply begins the second part of its performance. It slides. It swirls. It wraps around your cock in patterns that seemed impossible. You glance down, Haewon has her eyes closed in pure concentration.

She’s giving her everything, her whole fucking soul to one thing—

Your pleasure.

What could be a minute—or could be more—passes. Time is a concept beyond your current comprehension. The whole world could be in reverse right now and Haewon’s swirling tongue would make you none the wiser.

Haewon’s cheeks hollow as she sucks hard on your dick, accompanied by a backward movement of her head. With just her mouth, she pulls your hips forward until you’re forced to pull back to maintain balance. What went in is nothing compared to what came out. Haewon wipes away the spit running from her lips and admires it. Your cock stands stiff, smothered and dripping with saliva that reflects the light above.

“I really fucking missed it,” Haewon says, wrapping her hand around the shaft. “I need it.” She gives you every reason to be confident in yourself, and given how fixated her eyes are; you have every reason to believe her.

“What about you?” Haewon continues. “Did you miss this?”

Haewon keeps hold of you for balance, throwing her other hand behind her head and leaning backwards. Her knees on the floor, legs slightly open, with her thighs pressing down against her calves, accentuating their softness.

"I really fucking missed it. I need it," You copy her, word for word, with the same playful tone.

“Of course you did. That’s so obvious.” Haewon speaks as she climbs to her feet. “So when are you going to stop fucking around?”

With a wave of hair washing over your face, Haewon spins and steps back into you, then nestles her head back into your shoulder and her ass against your bare crotch.

“Do I have to keep throwing myself at you or are you going to take me?” She brings her hand to her face while she speaks and once she stops, drops a pool of saliva into her palm.

“You’re such a red flag, Haewon.”

“That so?" She pauses for a moment to allow a pool of saliva to fall from her lips into the palm of her hand. "I guess I see it.” Haewon continues a conversation in parallel, yet unrelated, to her actions. Her hand finds your length again, adding to the copious fluids before placing it between her plump cheeks where just a thin piece of fabric prevents a happy accident. “What kind of girl just throws herself at someone in a classroom, then follows him into a toilet, right? What, do you think I do this to everyone?”

“I don’t know what to think, and that’s the red flag. What happened to a nice dinner and getting to know eachother?”

She’s pushing down on your hips, making you lower your body, your cock sliding down against her pants until you go low enough for it to slip between her legs. A small nudge back and you’re stuck. Trapped on three sides, the tops of her thighs on either side and the sticky warmth in her underwear above.

“I think we're a little bit past that already, this is the real test of chemistry. Why waste time at dinner if you’re just going to disappoint after?”

“So that’s what this is, an evaluation? Should I expect a score after?” The words are difficult to force past your throat when your breath is hitching. All because she’s rocking now, with her hips. Slowly backwards before snapping forward again. Engulfed in her soft flesh, there’s a gentle pressure on your cock. Enabled by her spit, you are parting her thighs and pressing against her warmth each time she sets back.

“Satisfactory.” Blunt. Almost offensive. Effective. A challenge has been set. Haewon twists her neck, peering over her shoulder.

“Satisfactory?”

“What, you’re going to get all upset now?” Haewon grins and picks up her pace, sliding her pillowy thighs over your cock, and throwing her body against yours. The thin film of sweat on her back is a little sticky against your chest.

“Not exactly.” You bring your hands into the action, a firm grip on one of her hips, burying your fingers into her flesh and the other guiding your arm around her upper body—pacifying her movements. You unbend your knees and un-sink your hips.

You continue, “why don’t you tell me what it takes to excel?” All the while pushing yourself away from the wall, and you guide Haewon forward before directing her to the right-hand wall. You manipulate her like a puppet suspended from strings—if the strings were your arms and your stiff cock jammed against her soaked panties.

“I like someone who knows when to take—” Haewon is cut off as she braces herself for a collision against the sink and the mirror behind it.

“—control.”

With a hand in the centre of her back, you create momentary separation. Enough to slide down to your knees. You face her milky ass, divided in the middle by jet-black fabric. It’s mostly easy to slide the soft lace away from her hips and down her legs. The bit between her legs is the last to give way, the sticky mix of her wet pussy and your saliva needing it to be peeled away from her smoothly-shaven skin.

“And?” you ask, looking up and her glistening eyes, which yet again peer over her shoulder.

“Someone who knows what they want and how to take it.” You know exactly what you want. It’s destiny. Destiny is a funny name for the lips of her cunt peeking through the gap at the top of her thighs.

"Ah!" Haewon yelps as her glistening, fair skin accepts you—engulfs you—as you dive face-first into her. A hold on her hips enables you to dig deeper, propelling your mouth toward her delectable pussy. You'll make her wait for your verbal response as your mouth gets to work, lapping up any moisture you can find on her plump lips.

"F-fffuck." Haewon curses under her breath as your tongue pierces into the tight folds of her cunt. Her thick thighs and voluminous ass don't make it easy on you to bury your tongue into her. An impossible combination of firm and soft which would send any man into spiralling wonderment.

Haewon fights. Struggles. Doing so verbally. Uttering instructions which fall upon deaf ears. Physically. Reaching out behind her in desperate attempts to grasp your hair. Each time she has a hold, there’s a moment of pain before another wave of pleasure numbs her grip, and her digits fall helplessly through your locks.

It's clear that she's scrambling for answers, for as much as she baited—even gaslit—this response from you, she didn't really expect it. Not like this. Maybe in a way that she could easily wrestle back control. But likely not in a way that would result in her being subdued against a sink.

Yet here you are. With hands exploring all the parts of her body you fantasise about. Eating her cunt with ravenous intent. You're giving her your all. Really fucking giving her it.

Looking up past her plump cheeks that fill most of your vision, the result is clear to see. Long gone is the fight, the resistance, even that intense stare she gave you. Her arms don't reach for you but instead look to support her trembling body. Her head is thrown forward as it spills out utter gibberish via her mouth. Half-words and full-truths. You're so good. You manage to piece that one together from the three attempts she took at it.

Pointless words really. All the vindication you need runs from your chin and drips to the tiled floor.

Time stood still, or it sped up—one of them. Either way, the concept of linearity is lost on you. Lost somewhere in the time you spent eating her cunt. Lost somewhere among the myriad of curves her body presents, admired with a caress of your gaze and rhythmic touch.

It's both a vindication of your efforts and a desperate plea for more, the way she uses her hands on the wall, the mirror, the sink, and anything she can grab to force herself back against your mouth. She's absolutely insatiable, but, so are you.

A moment later and you’re back up to your feet, prying Haewon from the sink and twisting her, so her shoulders press against the wall. Your body pressed against hers. Lips pressed against another pair, your face soaked in liquid does nothing to prevent Haewon from kissing you. She looks different now. Bright red and flustered, the heat radiating from her face burns at your cheeks like you got a little too close to a fire.

Somewhere shuffled into a series of kisses are Haewon’s breathy words, “I’m going to fuck you now.” followed by a push on your shoulders, planting you against the wall. While Haewon wraps her arms over your shoulders and around your neck, her legs around your hips and to your back, your mind calls back her earlier words. Someone who knows what they want, and how to take it.

Haewon clings to you. Your frame is her only support, with both your hands on her ass, holding her just one swift movement away from your cock. She said she was going to fuck you, and she is trying. Really fucking trying. But it’s about what you want, and how you take it.

“No, baby girl. I’m going to fuck you now.”

Another moment passes and the pendulum swings again in your favour. She has nothing to fight back with and you easily propel yourself away from the wall and send the two of you crashing into the wall opposite, narrowly missing the hand dryer and thankfully doing no damage to the mirror you plant her against. You figure that it's inevitable, that you'll pay in some form for today's actions, but a fine for damaging a public restroom is at the bottom of the preferred list.

"Tell me Haewon, who's going to fuck who?" you query, but it's rhetorical. You aren't open to negotiation or delay. You take ownership of the moment, pressing yourself up against her. Your face buried in the crook of her neck, licking along her chin and grinding your body against hers. With an arm wrapped around her waist, you pull her close, feeling the warmth from her bare cunt against your thigh. Your lips quickly find hers and you take her in a brief but passionate kiss, then her neck again—ravaging what skin she has exposed with kisses, nibbles, and licks, driving her wild as she grinds against your leg.

"Look at you, Haewon. I'm gonna fuck you so good. You want that, don't you baby?" She can't answer, she's already so overwhelmed, so you continue, "I need to hear you say it," you mumble to her between kisses.

"Y-yes," she barely croaks out. "F-fuck me..."

And that was your cue. There's a certain energy surging through your veins as you practically pry Haewon from the wall. Legs still hooked around your waist, arms thrown over your shoulders, forehead to forehead. With your own strength and aid from gravity, she sinks.

As does your cock. Inside her warm cunt. Wrapped in the tightness, feeling her warmth surround you. Haewon leans her head back, pressing her head against the wall and exposing her neck to you, which you use as an invitation to assault with your tongue and your teeth. You start slowly thrusting upwards into her, forcing small thrusts, each one pushing your body up onto the tips of your toes before settling again. Each forward push causing her body to tense, back arching into your chest.

"G-g-god," is about all you get from Haewon while her face rolls forward, eyelids fluttering open for a moment. Hair now a tangled mess across her face, her lips remain parted. The breaths she lets out through them are hot, dry, and barely audible.

Rather than allow the wave of pleasure rolling down her body to subside, you pick up the pace. Feet almost stomping up into her now. Her head is empty, save for a few select words; my cunt, your dick, so big, fuck me, and finally, the all-too-expected, why'd you stop?

While moments before you were doing all the work and she was little more than a fleshlight hooked on your waist, you want more. Re-situating yourself, slipping an arm under her left leg, so it lays in the crux of your elbow. And the same with the right. It doesn't take long to step away from the wall, the added support from your arms ensuring she doesn't fall to the floor. But now the power really is in your hands and you pivot the two of you around.

On this edge, Haewon is both your burden and your liberation. Feet adjusting on the floor and back sliding against the slick tiles, an arm on the sink and a hand digging itself against your shoulder. Dangling from your lap, thrusting wildly against her pussy. Squeezing your cock.

A silent taunt, a threat, a promise.

Any of the above, or all of the above. It doesn't matter which one, what matters is how you feel.

Feeling words can't describe—well, words probably can, but you're incapable of stringing them together right now. With a grip like steel on the soft padding of her ass, you whisper, "gonna make you cum."

"I can't—not like this."

You don't take the bait. You never did, and you never will. Always something she needs, always something you have to put in or give up. Fuck that. It's your time to put all the effort in and pull some satisfaction out of her.

"Like this," you say sternly and she shoots you a look and you fire one right back.

Haewon bites her lip, then her body slackens, her arms relax, and the tension dissipates. A nod for you to proceed as you wish. Which you will.

You grip her, hands clasped behind her back. Haewon reaches out, a hand on the sink, a forearm on the dryer. It's far from elegant but it's damn sure effective as you redden her thighs with the rhythmic slap of your hips.

Her moans are stifled by the drool pooling down her chin as her eyes roll backwards. Climactic gurgles and pained breaths fill the room, which is only half covered by the rush of water from the sink's faucet. Somehow, someway, Haewon's helplessly suspended foot had hit it. Not that either of you care.

"Cum for me." Your hips show her no mercy as you slow and hold each thrust with deliberate depth. With every inch you have to offer penetrating her sweet cunt as your final bid to achieve victory in this battle of wills.

"Ugh! Fuck!"

You didn't think she could tighten any more, but she does. As a shudder washes down her body from head to toe, Haewon lets loose, coating your cock with fluid as she goes limp in your grasp. With her still in your arms, you sink, bringing her down with you. Your bare ass hits the tiled floor and it bucks your hips into her still-tense cunt. The friction of her hot, soaked inner walls rubbing up against your length causes a low groan to erupt from you.

There's a short span, a transient moment, where the two of you are just there. Quiet. Close. Eye-to-eye. Both are naked and one still coming down from a high while the other is still on the cusp of achieving it. Both are completely vulnerable, no cover or modesty. Just flesh and her impending words.

Your silence prompts her.

"W-what about you?"

"What about me?" You answer with a question, a smirk on your lips as you feel her loosening her tight grip on your cock.

"Ugh, do I have to tell you to cum?"

"Don't worry, Haewon." Your assurance has little weight behind it. It's a preface. A statement, yet unfinished. Your eyes stare longingly at her. A well-placed pause allows your mind to linger on the lusty gaze, parted lips, and complete ease with the proximity. It's a moment worth taking advantage of and savouring. And that's just what you do. You let time tick past a second. Another. Another. And then it's a sentence completed as you finish with the actual words, "I was going to cum whether you tell me or not."

Another sudden move. Pushing your thighs upward, so her rear is supported, and a firm grip on her shoulders pulls her face towards yours. She gets it. Or at least she complies enough to lift herself a little and free your stiff cock. You hold her in a kiss as she takes hold of your cock. Haewon firmly squeezes you in her palm and begins to stroke, almost clinically as she concentrates fully. Her wetness lubricated your shaft. She doesn't linger. Her touch is swift and not lacking in determination or precision. You're all hers, and you have been this whole time.

The truth is simple enough; the act is no different from the countless times you've thought about her after last time, and how many times you've helped yourself to sweet thoughts. It's all the same. She's a blurry mess in your memories; all of the little moments when she lingered in your mind. And it's all the same now. So easy, the motions her fingers force you through. Her touch is unchanging and full of vigour. You're more than confident she would be the same, regardless of what position or state the two of you were in. It's perfect and she's perfect and—

"Fuck," you curse under your breath, so taken aback by what just happened. It took over you, gripping every fibre of your being in a way that even now, it feels foreign and a little numbing. Your chest rises and falls, desperately trying to get as much air into your lungs.

Haewon flashes a smile, she knew. How could she not know? That's why it wasn't necessary to utter the word. Haewon lets herself sink back, lying between your legs. You look down at her. That flushed and sticky face. The tangled locks of her hair. The playful tongue perched on her lower lips and the grin behind it. Those eyes full of satisfaction observing her own body and the mess you made on her stomach.

That fucking smile.

She's all yours, and she has been this whole time.

***

You knew they were talking about it. Everyone in the whole damn building knew and it had only been a week.

The whispers of everyone you walked past tainted your ears. The eyes of passers-by and the stifled giggles of the stationary huddles. Word got out somehow and it was the next big thing. Sure it would pass in a week, but for now its was your name and Haewon's on everyone's lips.

If only they knew. If only they knew that right now you were heading to the locked library that Haewon had stolen the key for so you could fuck each other senseless while you skipped a class. Then they would really have something to talk about. Maybe she was the bad influence and not you. Or maybe you were a bad influence too.

Or maybe you were a good influence. That's the one that appealed to you. You have to admit, you were more attentive now. You found her more beautiful now than you had previously. You really did have an attraction. An affinity with her. It wasn't purely physical and that had to mean something. You didn't plan for this, but you're in it now.

That's the thing about trouble. You don’t look for it. It finds you.

#kpop smut #kpop fanfic #male reader #nmixx smut #haewon smut #smut

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strawberrylabs · 2 months ago

Text

I have FINALLY finished the raffle fic from ages ago!

the raffle winner was @stellas-starry-stories13

the 1k words was split into 3 seperate smaller fics about Lyney, Freminet and Cyno if their lover, who is cursed to be blunt and speak their mind, were to be kidnapped! I hope you enjoy!

TW: kidnapping, violence

Lyney(442):

Lyney was panicking.

He had run around your shared home 3 times now, calling your name near every nook and cranny he can think of– in the wardrobe, under the bed, heck even in the broom cupboard.

But he got no response, only a plume of dust kicked up by his hurried movements.

He sat on the end of the bed he had shared with you just a few hours prior, the warmth that was shared, sapped by the cold of night.

‘Where are you…’

The magician moved, forcing himself to continue searching– until something dropped from the sheets to his feet

A treasure hoarder insignia.

He knew where you were.

‘Bastards… I’ll find you. I promise.’

As Lyney made his way to the nearest treasure hoarder camp, his mind was bombarded with worries.

A particular thought swam higher than the rest; one regarding your curse.

It wasn’t a secret– unfortunately– that you were cursed to always speak your mind. Literally.

You had done well to avoid giving out sensitive information.

If you were to be questioned about the Hearth’s whereabouts, you would instead say what else you were thinking about; in this situation, that would likely be how much you dislike your captors, or something else the hoarders would not like to hear.

Treasure Hoarders were not known for their patience, or their forgiveness.

Whilst deep in thought, he had reached the nearest camp.

Which luckily, was the right one.

Bow drawn, Lyney quietly approached…

He stopped when he heard voices.

‘For the last time, where do the Fatui keep their wealth in Fontaine?!’

‘Your breath really stinks. And you have something stuck in your teeth-’

A loud slap is heard. Lyney draws his bow tighter, string almost snapping.

‘For Archons’ sake! I thought you said it’d be easy to get information from her!’

Lyney finally peers around the corner to see the treasure hoarders arguing

He also sees you, covered in dirt and bruises.

Lyney lets his arrow fly.

It makes contact with the first man– the one who had questioned you.

The arrow explodes into fireworks, Rosseland appearing from the fire, effectively drawing the attention of the surrounding hoarders.

Lyney lets another arrow fly, feeling his health weaken with each charged attack.

By the 5th arrow, he calls back Rosseland-

Only to send him out in a flurry of fire.

Once the Treasure hoarders were dealt with, Lyney runs to you.

‘You took a while’

Despite your words, a tired, yet genuine smile met your lips.

‘I’m sorry- I’m here now.’

He picks you up.

‘Now, let’s get out of here and inform the Gardes of these heathens’ sad performance.’

Freminet(309):

‘Oh no..’

Freminet doesn’t know what to do.

Where were you?

Had you finally left him?

No, you’d still be found at the Hearth, but you weren’t there either.

You weren’t anywhere.

No one knew where you were.

Freminet wasn’t panicked– not yet. But he was worried.

He didn’t want to assume the worst, but he was running out of options.

You’d been taken. Stolen from him.

Freminet had been good at finding things before, he would find you too.

He started searching known hilichurl camps– maybe there were too many, and you couldn’t take them?

He then searched areas with prominent amounts of rogue mechs. Perhaps you had been bested by a Recon Mec’s missiles?

Then, after not finding you previously, he started searching treasure hoarder camps.

He had searched 4 camps before he heard your familiar voice.

‘You look super ugly by the way. Not at all my type.’

‘That wasn't even what we asked!’

‘You don’t get to smart mouth us you bitch!’

Freminet’s world slows when he hears you cry out in pain.

Before he knew it, he was swinging his claymore at the perpetrators.

One by one, they fell to his cryo.

‘That was hot.’

Freminet is kicked out of his stupor by your comment, a blush settling over his face.

‘... Are you.. Alright?’

He kneels down to look at you better- slap marks and gashes littered your face and arms.

He sits back up and holds out his hand to you

‘Come on.. We need to get you patched up, then we can head back home and tell Father what happened.’

When you reach out to his hand, you can’t help but notice that he holds on just that little bit tighter.

‘Hey, Frem. I’m safe now. Thank you for saving me.’

His grip relaxes.

‘..I’ll always protect you.’

‘I know.’

Cyno(380):

Cyno had been tracking a band of Treasure Hoarders that recently crossed into Sumeru from the Chasm.

There had been reports that their leader was more cunning than most other mindless groups.

This fact had been proven by the fact that they had managed to evade the Mahamatra all this time.

Every time an incident was reported, Cyno would arrive just too late.

Every attack was careful and calculated.

But this time, the Treasure Hoarders had made a mistake.

They tried to take you from your lover.

Cyno has a feeling all day something was off. His instincts are never wrong.

He arrived at your home to see the door ajar, and the lock broken. After a quick, efficient search of the house, he concluded you had been taken.

It seemed that while Cyno was studying the Treasure Hoarders, they were studying him.

Cyno immediately set out tracking the group.

He wouldn’t let them get far.

While Treasure Hoarders would need to stop to rest, Cyno refused to stop.

He was after them. He was going to take you back.

It was late at night when Cyno spotted their camp.

As silent as the sand and as precise as the carvings in the ruins, Cyno snuck up on the Treasure Hoarders. He paused, however, as he heard a conversation.

‘You’re really stupid. Cyno will come for me, and he won’t let you live.’

‘Aha! You really think he’s going to catch up? We’re travelling at top speed and only taking minimum breaks. Not even the General Mahamatra can do that.’

‘Pfft you’re even more stupid than I thought.’

‘Shut it! You’re just a prisoner!’

Cyno’s spear had struck before the Treasure Hoarders hand could make contact with your skin.

Cyno’s fury could only be described as animalistic.

It wasn't long before all the enemies had been either knocked unconscious, or left to be covered by the moving dunes..

Cyno took a breath before untying you.

‘I am sorry. I should’ve known they would try to come for you.’

You hug him.

‘Don’t be sorry. I knew you’d come. Just like I told them.’

Cyno wraps an arm around your back and holds you tight.

‘My enemies had better think twice in future, before they even think about touching you.’

Hope you enjoyed, please point out any mistakes I may have made!

if you'd like to read more, check out my masterlist!

Strawberry<3

#genshin x reader #lyney x reader #lyney x reader angst #freminet x reader #freminet x reader angst #cyno x reader #cyno x reader angst #genshin x reader angst

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hauntedjellyfishwitch-blog · 2 months ago

Note

First off your writing is incredible. I was in literal tears reading your Daryl fic.

But I thought I'd send in a request, a jealous Daryl. Doesnt have to be established reader, pretty easy. I just like it when he's all riled up. 😂 Please and thank you

Jealousy

Summary: He could have just told her, couldn’t he? That would have been simple. He’d had to yell at her instead though, because Daryl can never do things the usual way round. Hand down her skirt and about to run away for the second time really was more his style.

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader (No use of Y/N)

TW: Nervous!Daryl. Angst. Fluff. Friends to lovers. Alexandria era. Vague, very short smut.

A/N: Thank you for this request and the beautiful compliment! I may have rushed the editing a little so if you notice any errors please tell me!

It’s not that she’s been avoiding him, it’s the complete opposite, she’s absolutely, inarguably, infuriatingly normal. He’s clawing at the walls of his own brain and she’s acting as if everything is fine. Maybe it is, he thinks, maybe she’s over it, maybe she’s been over it since the second he screwed it up and he’s the only one still hanging on to whatever it was in the first place. He can’t even claim he’s hanging on to much, they’d barely even kissed and it was months ago, but he hadn’t exactly been good at this kind of thing before the world threw a damn apocalypse into the mix.

He’d loved her since the moment he’d heard her laugh. He’d found her in a cabin in the woods on a run, just after Woodbury had fallen, back when the prison was still strong. He didn’t want to bring her back, one more mouth to feed, one more person to keep an eye on, but she’d saved him from a rogue walker he hadn’t seen coming, shrugged like it was nothing, like she’d have done it for anyone. She’d offered him food and water, a rundown but relatively safe place to lay low for a few hours, she was kind. The words were tumbling from his lips before he’d really thought about them.

He’d avoided her for a good while, despite her efforts to befriend him, he’d lost so much already he didn’t want to let her in. But then he’d said something sarcastic, something snappy and prissy and she’d laughed; an honest to goodness belly laugh that had her head throwing back and him smiling from the side of his mouth despite himself and something deep in his chest felt warm.

So he’d loved her, quietly and from a distance. Safe. Until she’d kissed him.

He watches as she laughs, the same laugh, big and warm and real. It’s not aimed at him, and he hates it. After he’d run away from her, he worried he wouldn’t hear it again, but he’d been wrong, and this was worse. He taps his fingers against his thigh, trying to keep a scowl from his face. Failing. He thinks steam would come out of his ears if it were within the realm of possibility.

He’s always too late. Always takes too long to get comfortable. Always spends so long waiting that he misses out on the thing he wanted, and she’s not a thing but his blood is fucking boiling. At the man she’s talking to, at himself, at her too if he’s a little honest.

The man, who’s name he doesn’t know and now never wants to, is handsome. If you’re into that suburban, well groomed, boring kind of thing. He has a punchable face. Daryl is not allowed to punch people unless its necessary anymore, Rick has told him that explicitly but surely flirting with his…flirting with the woman he’s in lo…flirting with her makes it necessary.

He can’t stand the thought that he might not be the last person to kiss her lips. He can’t stand looking any longer, but he doesn’t mean for his knife to clatter loudly on the floor as he tries to flee. He doesn’t dare turn around, but he’d be able to tell she was looking at him even in pitch black. Knows she’s watching the solid, tense set of his shoulders as he retreats.

She startles at the sight of him sitting on her porch, quickly schooling her face into the nonchalance she’s been practicing around him since they arrived. It was easy enough, on the road, to pretend he hadn’t hurt her. They were so busy trying to survive, so busy being busy that she could avoid an inevitable conversation where she’d had to apologise for getting their wires crossed.

But since they’ve been behind the walls of Alexandria? She can’t stop herself from searching him out, finding excuses to be near him, trying to act like they were back at the prison. Friends. She can do friends. She has been absolutely nailing being just friends, as long as she can ignore the tightness in her chest and the way she feels like she’s going to cry every time she walks away. Friends.

She flips the knife in her hand with ease, shielding his hand from the blade as she passes it back to him. He nods his thanks as he squints up at her.

“What crawled up your ass tonight?” She asks, but there’s a teasing smile on her face as leans against the railing to her house. The porch light is dim, warm golden yellow illuminating them. Daryl hasn’t been one for a lot of words in a long time, but he intends to bat the question away, distract her with something funny, something acerbic but good natured. Friendly, he can do friendly. He can’t, could barely do it on the road after everything happened. Now though, when she’s showered and brushed her hair and dressed up, lit up by a damn porch light? He doesn’t stand a chance.

“Dun’ kiss him”

“What the fuck?”

Fists clenching to calm himself down, unfurling them when he feels more grounded, he looks up at her again, daring to lock his eyes onto hers.

“Ya like him…tha’ guy?” He tries to keep his voice steady, hopes she doesn’t understand he’s begging her to say no, begging for her to give him a chance, but how many can one man have?

“Why are you asking me this?”

“Dun’ kiss him, please” He asks again, with a shake of his head, knocking his hair in front of his eyes as the ground in front of him becomes the most interesting thing he’s ever seen. She sighs quietly, but the sound reverberates in his brain, he can hear the disappointment that weighs it down, the disappointment he’d hoped to avoid by avoiding talking about this thing between them entirely.

“I’m not having this conversation with you on the porch” She pushes herself off the railing, turning to open the front floor. She means for him to leave but he follows her inside, tapping his fingers nervously against his thigh as he closes the door behind him. Every part of his body is telling him to run.

“I know I ain’t got no right t’ ask”

“No, you don’t. Why are you asking?”

“‘cause I can’t stand it”

“Why do you care?”

“’cause ya shouldn’t be wit’ him!”

“Who should I be with then, Daryl? Huh?” He doesn’t respond, not that she expects him to, head hanging low toward the ground “You have no answer, because it’s not you, is it? You didn’t want me!”

“I didn’t-what?”

He’d tried to make it obvious, had given her extra food, had nudged her shoulder with his, had talked to her more than anyone else. But she’d tried to kiss him and he’d fled, had retreated safely back into the comfort of his walls. Then he’d come back. He’d kissed her and again he’d fled. Daryl Dixon is the human embodiment of emotional whiplash. He knows he’s not easy, but he thought at least he’d been clear, he can’t imagine the way he looks at her has ever been subtle.

“I did want ya”

Her mind thinks over the weeks he’s been standoffish, the time he’s spent avoiding her touches, thinks back the first week they’d arrived here and he’s barely spoken a word, all the while watching her with an intensity that would have been uncomfortable if she hadn’t wanted his attention.

“I can’t do this, you can’t play with my head because you’re jealous all of a sudden”

“Ain’t jealous” He argues, knowing they both know he’s lying, but he still, even now, won’t let himself be vulnerable. “I know I fucked up, ‘kay? I know, but I’m ‘ere now!”

He snarls, frustrated and bordering on vicious, practically diving towards her as his hands grip her hips tight enough to bruise. He smashes his lips against hers, unpractised and clumsily before his brain catches up and he goes to pull away. Her response is so fast he doesn’t get a chance, dragging him back in as his brain shuts down.

The kiss is hard, angry and fast, all hip bones pressing into hip bones and teeth clacking against teeth. It’s not the romantic, affectionate start she was hoping for. It’s not the gentle steady and slow he was. She’s angry, he is too she can feel it in his body as he presses it against her.

The room spins, air thick and foggy with months’ worth of frustration, tension so thick it could be cut, it’s only when he swallows a heady, deep moan from her that he realises he needs more. Tongue sweeping into her mouth he grips the fabric of her skirt in his hand, bunching it up until he can reach an insistent, rough calloused hand inside her underwear, ripping his lips away from hers to heave a breath in. She’s soaked, dripping around his fingers and he’ll have time to be absolutely fucking floored by that when he recounts this later. His forehead sticks to hers as she moans.

It’s not that he hasn’t had trysts before, it’s just that they were short and unimportant, he’s barely been confident enough to use his hands. He wants to touch her in the right way, wants to know what he’s doing but she’s snaking a hand into his trousers and wrapping her fingers around his cock so thinking isn’t the top of his priorities right now.

It feels incredible, and in the vague recess of his brain he thinks he should have done this at a pace he'd be more comfortable with but he hasn’t done this in years, and barely successfully then so its not long before he comes all over her hand, whining as his head dips down to pant heavily against her collarbone. His fingers still, embarrassed and suddenly full of crippling self-doubt. She knows he’s going to remove them about a second before he does.

A thud echoes through the suddenly too big room as she tips her head back to hit the wall behind her.

“You leaving?” She lets out an incredulous laugh, hurt, betrayed, surprisingly unsurprised. The zip on his trousers seems louder than anything she’d yelled at him less than an hour before. It feels like an eternity before she lowers her head to look at him, doesn’t bother to mask the absolute disappointment on her features.

“I-uh-yeah-I”

She can practically see the walls slamming back up around him, the walls she’s been watching for weeks. A tear rolls down her cheek as he turns away from her, heading towards the front door.

“You don’t get another chance with me, Daryl” the finality in her voice makes him pause, hand on the doorknob. She sighs, hating that she’s about to give him the grace she is “You need to make up your mind, because I’m not waiting for you, not again. If you’re not certain by tomorrow you need to leave me alone”

The shaky nod from him is so small its almost imperceptible.

She’s not expecting the knock on her door as soon as the sun is up, really she isn’t. The whole night has been sleepless and filled to the brim with dread, knowing for sure that he wants her but fully believing he will never be able to let himself have her. She isn’t unaware of Daryl’s tendency to self-destruct. Maybe this is it, she thinks, maybe he values her enough as a friend if nothing else, to tell her face to face, but he’d never been able to before and the tiniest hint of hope lights her up as she treads carefully down the stairs.

Daryl stands there with a small, nervous but hopeful smile on his face. The hope hasn’t missed him, either. He doesn’t know what he’s doing, so out of his depth he might as well be drowning, but the knowledge that she wants this too means he’d rather fumble his way through this with her than do well without her.

“I’m a’ idiot”

“Yes you are” She laughs, setting him alight on the inside. The laugh that started al of this, almost. Doubt underneath her voice is the thing that finally settles it for him, makes him pull her towards him, gentle this time, the way he’d wanted. He’ll never let her doubt his feelings even when he doubts himself.

“I always wanted ya” he murmurs against her lips before closing the distance.

“You’re not going to run away again?”

“Ain’t runnin’, ain’t ever runnin’ again”

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fluffyomorashii · 9 months ago

Text

I live across from a bar grill type restaurant so decided to walk over to have some drinks and bar food since I would be alone and something to do! It’s raining slightly but I just put on a hoodie and black leggings and jog across the street. No big deal! (|||⇁_⇁)

A little over an hour and a half passes and I’m two alcoholic drinks in (and they weren’t afraid to pack these drinks with Hella alcohol!!) I was well tipsy now and had to pee 30 mins ago, but seeing that home was literally a minute walk away I decided I’d like to pee in the comfort in my own home lol.

I pay and leave exiting the door and stop.. it’s not raining anymore it’s more like the fucking sea was falling from the sky, the wind was making it worse and so cold.. immediately all the water and the sudden cold temperature aggressively reminded me I really really had to pee.. I braced myself and put my hands in my hoodie pocket so stuff in between my legs, waiting for intense wave to pass

Once I had control I put my hood on and immediately started running across the parking lot running up to the sidewalk and immediately I’m soakedddd the rain was coming down HARD I could barely even see!! I had to stop at the sidewalk to wait for the cars to stop and it felt like my bladder was spiking filling up times 10.. I was I was shifting side to side my thighs pressed together, when finally, the red light came on, and the cars stopped.

I fucking flew across that road and passed the first house, and then there was my house right there!! Ignoring going the long way up the driveway I cut through the yard mud and water splashing everywhereee. I ran up the stairs to the small little square porch we have at our front door that thankfully had a small square roof over it. I took only a second to breathe then went right to action-

Scrambled to take off my muddy soaked shoes as I quickly reached into my pocket to yank out my keys- yanking my phone out accidentally and it fell to the ground bouncing, almost falling off the porch. I quickly cursed and crouched down to grab it, when I found myself awkwardly crossing my legs as I crouched pushing the heel of my foot into my crotch as I felt an intense pressure in my bladder.. (¬////¬)

I could tell I peed a tiny bit because I felt warm while the rest of me was cold, and that feeling didn’t help.. all the being drunk, rain splashing around me, being soaked, the cold giving me intense bladder warnings I couldn’t deal-.. I realized ..oh my God I can’t…I’m-..I’m gonna pee….

I shot back up and immediately a sudden fast pee stream noisily released, splattering quickly between my legs, mixing with the rain sound.. I was panicked by how fast the emergency to accident happened but also let out a shaky sigh as the intense bladder warnings slowly faded as my legs became warmer and warmer.

I looked up, and even though the rain was so thick I’m sure no one could see anything, I nervously turned away to face the door, and looked down watching the rapidly growing puddle slide off the porch and down the stairs.. when I was just left with a few trickles down my legs I slowly reached for my keys and unlock the door. Thankful I had black leggings and thankful the rain was so intense the Wet spot was too hard to see anyway! (っ- ‸ - ς)

#omo story #omorashi #pee accident #wetting accident #this was months ago heh (⸝⸝⸝O﹏ O⸝⸝⸝) deff a 0-100 moment #omocute #omotext

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1-800-local-slut · 9 months ago

Text

House of Memories (Spencer's Version)

Spencer Reid x Black! Fem! FBI! Reader

A look at your life with Spencer through the eyes of his team mates

Warnings: none really, just fluff, the team being observant, adult objects (condoms, alcohol, etc.,), not a warning but a note: reader isn't in the BAU but she works in the FBI, through Emily's POV

“I wasn’t expecting an invite from you, Reid. Thanks for having me over.” The front door to the apartment opened. Emily was holding a bottle of cheap wine that she grabbed from the liquor store down the street when she realized she forgot to bring a house gift. It was a close call too, she was literally driving past it when she realized and had to make a very hasty u-turn.

“It’s no problem, thank you for coming! Derek, Garcia and Hotch are in the living room, Rossi’s in the bathroom and JJ’s coming late. Her loss though, I think she’d really enjoy Interstellar and if she comes late I know she’s going to complain. Come in, just take your shoes off if you don’t mind.” Emily nodded, after Spencer gave her a light side hug and accepted the bottle from her.

He wore a white tee-shirt, pajama bottoms, and smelt fresh. His hair was damp as well, like he’d showered a few hours ago but his hair is so thick that it takes a minute for it to dry. She noticed his light shrug, as if it wasn’t his preference but he would take it anyways.

Ghosting through the threshold, she bent down and slipped off her boots. She heard light chatter, music, smelt a vanilla and sea salt (it was a rough guess) candle burning, and heard the clatter of pots in the kitchen.

She couldn’t help it, her analytical mind working before she could stop it. Sometimes she would find herself profiling strangers even when it was rude. And profiling your coworker who invited you into his home was very rude.

Spencer’s shoes were thrown on the floor, one knocked on its side but still close together. As if it was an attempt on his end to be some sort of neat. Pairs of heels, pumps, boots were lined on the shoe rack but after doing a quick count, she noticed something. There were far more womens shoes than there were mens shoes. About six pairs of men's shoes to a 10 women’s shoe ratio.

Aaron, David, Derek make three, and the other three were clearly Spencer’s. Pen’s shoes obviously were one of those female shoes. The bright purple heels sticking out like a sore thumb amongst the browns, blacks, and deep reds of the female shoes.

‘Enough Emily, stop being rude.’

“Your house is beautiful Spencer.” She couldn’t help but look around in slight awe. She wasn’t expecting Spencer’s house to be so…neat? No, that sounds mean. Neat in a way that didn’t seem like it was all Spencer. Sure Spencer’s little unique touches were sprinkled about the apartment and she was still standing at the doorway.

There were pictures of nature hanging on the wall, of a young black woman standing in front of a large pond far from the camera. She wore a pink baseball cap and had her hands flung out as if to emphasize how big the pond was. Who was that? A secret lover? She looked familiar, like a face Emily had seen in passing.

“Oh thanks. I just moved in a few months ago so not everything is fully set up.” Spencer called from the kitchen, and there were three clicks from the stove. Then he slid out, wiping his hands on a towel. As she walked through the house, she noticed more.

Potted plants with lush green leaves, knitted plant holders hanging from the ceiling, a red and dark blue patterned rug on the floor in the hall. From where she stood, she could see there was a small dining area. A nice wooden table, with papers and files scattered all over.

She found her way to the living room and saw her coworkers engaged in whispers on the couch. More papers and files were on the small tables on either side of the couch, a contrast to the neatness of the rest of the house.

“Hey everybody, what’s up?” Emily asked. Heads snapped towards her, and she noticed Penelope’s eyes curved up in a mischievous grin.

“Hi! Come sit, come sit.” Penelope motioned next to her, Derek and Rossi sliding over to make room for her.

“Did you make it in okay?” Hotch asked and Emily nodded while she slipped onto the brown leather sofa. A dark purple hand knitted black was thrown over the back of it. Did Spencer take up knitting or was this just a nice purchase?

Spencer plopped down into the brown leather armchair and rested his feet on the pouf in front of him. Emily noticed how spotless the glass coffee table in front of them was.

The whole house was ridiculously clean. The wooden floors sparkled, the carpets meticulously vacuumed, the TV sparkled and the speakers next to the TV were flawlessly dusted. The large oak bookshelf that was up against the wall that was closest to the kitchen was also dusted and the books neatly organized.

When would Spencer have time to clean his house so thoroughly? They were on a mission all of last week, got back two nights ago and have been at work since then. Sure, it’s Spencer he could just be very clean but the way things sparkled, it was clear they were cleaned merely a few hours ago.

When they did go home it was late at night and they were back at work early the next day. Did he spend his whole Saturday afternoon scrubbing his floors, and preparing to cook for them? Spencer wasn’t the type to have a housekeeper, especially when he does his work all over and you can’t exactly leave FBI documents in the eye of the eye of a random house keeper.

“Sorry about the paperwork, I still have to set up my study. I have to put up my desk and everything.” Everyone voiced a consolation, some variation of ‘I don’t mind’ or ‘you should see my place’.

“Not the handyman?” Derek teased, wiggling his eyebrows. Spencer chuckled and shook his head. Spencer’s been smiling a lot more lately.

“I like keeping myself out of the hospital. Did you know every 45 minutes a piece of furniture falls on someone, and 25,000 people a year are treated at the hospital for a furniture related incident?” Spencer rattled off, emphasizing the numbers with his fingers.

Before anyone else could say anything, the doorbell rang. Spencer glanced back at the door, before he sprung to his feet with enthusiasm like he was expecting Emily and Penelope exchanged looks, giggling while Rossi lightly rolled his eyes.

“Of course he knows that. Also, did any of you know that Spencer moved to a new place?” Derek asked.

“Well I knew. I know where all of you live. But it was very considerate of him to invite us over.” Hotch nodded, taking a sip of a bottle of water. Not Spencer’s usual brand but she did notice a switch some time ago. From Purelife to Poland Spring.

“Did you see the coat? Hanging by the door rack?” Penelope whispered, motioning for everyone to come in closer. There was a devilish twinkle in her eyes, her brain working overtime.

“What, you think he has some… extra company? A secret lover?” Rossi chuckled. Of course she noticed, but she just thought it was Penelope’s.

“Maybe! Do you think?” Penelope asked excitedly, her hands flapping around with enthusiasm. Oh Penelope, ever the romantic. Derek giggled next to Penelope. He was lightly smacked by Penelope as a rebuttal and he giggled as if the slaps tickled him and they heard Spencer’s reapproaching foot steps along with an extra pair of heels.

They all turned, eager to see who it was. Would it be the woman in the photo? His mom? Someone else?

“JJ!” Emily exclaimed when the final member of their team came in. She twisted around in her seat, happy to see her friend. JJ wasn’t able to make it on their last assignment so it had been a minute since they’d seen her. For people who practically live together, spending almost every moment together while at work was normal. They’d all fallen into a natural balance of being around each other. Of course they’d missed JJ while she was out sick.

“Hi!” She held her arms open for hugs, while the entire team voiced their hellos.

“Sorry I’m late, the grocery store was ridiculous. You wouldn’t believe what I saw, some lady's ex boyfriend came there and she called the cops on him like right there in the store. Apparently, he gave her something on purpose. She got on the speaker and called him ‘Dirty Dick David’. And then they fired her for playing with the mic that way!” She told her story while passing out hugs and then plopped down in the opposite arm chair across from the one Spencer was sitting in before.

“What?” Spencer laughed while he sat back down.

“Right there it happened.” The whole team was laughing and Emily remembered that this was why she got along with her team so well. The easy laughter was so simple and refreshing.

“Woah, right there is insane! I guess she was sick of him.” Emily leaned slightly into Penny, allowing herself more comfort

“Imagine being at work and your ex who purposely infected you with something shows up to both you? I’d be pissed too.” Derek chuckled.

“I’ve been through three wives and never got a reaction like that, Dirty Dick David certainly had it coming.” Rossi added before they all laughed even harder.

Then there was a loud ringing noise. Spencer’s phone was going off and he patted himself down, lifting himself up checking to see if he was sitting on it. Then he got up, his face making a tiny expression like he could finally recall.

“I’ll be right back guys.” He ran into the kitchen and Penelope pulled everyone into a huddle.

“Okay, here’s what you missed JJ, you ready?”

“I’m ready?” She asked with an arch eyebrow and a nervous smile.

“There’s a bunch of lady stuff around here, like a coat and I don’t know if you saw the shoes but there are a lot of lady shoes. Rossi was in the bathroom and saw a bunch of lady stuff too, like a special face cleanser but he didn’t wanna snoop. I think he should’ve gone for it but whatever. Also I don’t know if you know but I know that Spencer doesn’t cook.

His house is also really clean like really really clean like it was just clean but when would he have gotten the time to clean it? I mean we got off work like three hours ago. Running theories? Spencer has a housekeeper, a secret girlfriend, or his moms visiting. Got it? Okay, got it.”

JJ blinked after Garcia’s rapid rundown, Derek nodding like he was able to keep up with that and Hotch all around looked displeased.

“We are guests in Spencer’s home, don’t go looking through his stuff. Maybe Spencer likes that stuff, that’s not any of our concern.” He frowned with a crease in his eyebrows.

“Yeah Garcia, besides if Spence did get a girlfriend then I think that’s great for him.” JJ chuckled and Derek rubbed her shoulder comfortingly.

“I’m back! I picked up the shrimp and some wine. I also got some beers if you want any. The coolers are for me, you can have one but don’t take any of the pink ones. I like those ones.” A familiar voice sounded through the house.

The sound of socks hitting the floor padded through the house and a young woman walked in. The woman from the photo more specifically. Her hair was in long braids that curled around her waist. She was gorgeous, a red scarf was wrapped around her neck to protect her from the chilly winter air. More specifically she was familiar.

More specifically she was from a different team. More specifically a member of the HRT. The Hostage Rescue Unit. They’ve seen Spencer speaking with her a lot. They’ve teased him for their closeness multiple times, and knew they were a bit closer. But Emily didn’t know they were such close friends. For her to just walk into his home this way.

No offense to Spencer but when Emily said she was hot, she meant she was hot. Like she just stepped out of a magazine. And she never thought Spencer would have it in him to pull. Spencer was certainly nothing to sneeze at but my god was this woman attractive.

She was making her way through the house, to the kitchen lightly waddling. She held a bag of groceries and as if she could feel all the eyes on her she turned.

“Oh hi! I’m sorry, I ran out to the grocery store. I didn’t realize we ran out of shrimp but the food will be done soon.” She beamed at them and put one of her hands on her hips. And Emily did as profilers do. She profiled even if she didn’t truly mean too. She was wearing pajama pants, and a puffy coat that was zipped open to reveal a white tank top. Above all she radiated joy, confidence and comfort.

“It’s nice to see you again.” Hotch cleared his throat, and she nodded at the members of the BAU.

“You got the shrimp?” Spencer called, coming out of the kitchen, slipping his phone into the pocket of his pants. He came up behind her, wrapping an arm around her waist. She instinctively angled her head to his and pushed herself up onto her tippy toes to plant a kiss on his lips.

Penelope was on the verge of exploding, her mouth open in a wide grin. She let out an excited squeal. The two agents jumped upon hearing the high pitched noise and everyone on the couch turned to face her.

“What?! Oh my god, when were you gonna tell us?!” Penelope asked, bounding up from the couch. Spencer looked confused above all as Penelope raced towards him and his apparent girlfriend.

“I didn’t think I had to, we weren’t exactly shy about it.” Spencer laughed as he looked at Penelope basically bouncing up and down in front of him. She giggled and Penelope paused.

“Dude we thought you were just friends?” Derek questioned from the couch. Spencer shook his head, looking more and more shocked by the second.

“So how long has this been going on?” Emily asked with a laugh. She had to laugh! How could she not be happy for Spencer? He looked so happy, he literally hadn’t stopped smiling since she came into the door and they kissed.

“Like a year? I mean, I know we jumped the gun with moving, but my lease was up and I decided that this would work and I couldn’t find anywhere close enough to work. We decided to go for it.” Spencer added, scratching the back of his neck.

“You guys really had no idea? I mean I tell you guys that we go out every weekend, I have a picture of her on my desk. We literally come to work together everyday.” Spencer exclaimed, motioning around with his hands.

“I don't see you that often at work, they probably don’t really notice those things.” She rationalized to him and rubbed a hand over his chest. He never moved his hand from around her waist.

It all made sense. The candles littered around the house, the small basket of yarn and needles on the floor next to one of the arm chairs. The food even smelt too seasoned to be like anything Spencer could cook, the photos that Emily was just now realizing were taken of Spencer. The romance novel that Emily saw sitting on the glass coffee table. How spotless the entire house was. The shoes, the coat, Emily was just mad at herself for not recognizing the photo.

“Well. Way to go Reid, I didn’t know you had it in you.” She smirked at Derek’s remark and stood on her toes again. She whispered something in Spencer’s ear and he cackled with his mouth open in shock.

He was turning a bashful shade of red and his voice squeaked as he sent her away.

“I’ll be finished with your food soon, you guys.” Trailing into the kitchen, Spencer glanced over as if to check if she needed anything.

“Oh gosh, you didn’t have to cook for us! Thank you so much!” Emily exclaimed, realizing that she was just sitting there like a fish with her mouth wide open.

“Let her cook, why not enjoy dinner and a movie?” Rossi joked. It seemed like the shock had dissipated and JJ giggled, her blonde hair shining like the Sun and Emily noted how her entire face lit up like a star.

“Honey, can you come help me with these groceries?” Spencer nodded, following her into the kitchen. They watched, waiting to watch them fully go into the kitchen. Then like little girls at a sleepover, they leaned back into their huddle.

“Wow!”

“Let’s not get too ahead of ourselves.” Hotch tried to keep the peace before his team of impatient agents ran rampant. Emily herself felt like she needed answers and she needed them now.

“Did you see the way he looked at her? They’re so cute, I had a feeling when he came to work that one time smelling like perfume and wearing the same clothes but they were like all up on each other.” Penelope whispered excitedly.

“I always knew opposites attract. You know they make a handsome couple too.” The excitement died down for a second and everyone had to look at Rossi. Who even used that phrasing anymore?

“You’re so old, Rossi.” JJ giggled and Hotch shook his head. Rossi smiled playfully, the way he always did when they made fun of him for being ancient.

“What do they even talk about? I mean sure they have stuff in common but for a whole year? I wasn’t expecting that!” Emily exclaimed.

“Reid’s never short on things to talk about.” Derek teased and Penelope swatted him again.

“I mean I noticed he’d been a bit happier but I wasn’t expecting this! I guess you just never know.” JJ added in, glancing over to the kitchen to make sure the two weren’t standing right there.

“We can find out what they talk about.” No one wanted to admit it but they wanted to snoop so bad. So bad that when Penelope suggested it the best thing to do was to stop talking and be extra quiet so they could hear. Even Hotch, slowly reclined.

Over the clatter of pans, the soft clinking of bottles and things being put away, and dishes being taken out they heard her voice.

“Emily brought us some wine. Pink.” Spencer’s voice broke through and Emily tensed up. Oh god, what if they hated the wine?

“Oh my favorite. I’ve always liked that Emily. If it wasn’t for you, I’d go for her.” She laughed and plopped something into what sounded like a liquid.

Derek made some funny eyebrows at Emily and Emily felt her cheeks heat up. JJ and Penelope both grabbed each other to stifle a laugh. As bad as it was to listen to your teammate and his girlfriend's conversation, they couldn’t stop.

“Aw babe don’t pout.” Then a kissing noise.

“There’s that smile. Also I picked up some condoms, we were down to six and you know we go through those like crazy. Speaking of which, I was thinking, do we really need those? I mean I’m on the pill and at the rate we go we’d save more money just not having sex. To be honest we spend a bit too much money on that stuff anyways and I don’t want to replace another bed frame. I like this one and we literally just got it. That or we just need to stop having sex so often. The call is totally yours but that bitch who works at the front cashier keeps looking at me funny everytime she sees me walk up.” It took a moment for everyone to process what she was talking about. It really took a moment. An identical frown spread over both Rossi and Hotch, and Derek had to put his fist in his mouth to avoid cackling.

Oh god, this was an awful idea. Now there was just awkward silence. None of them could say anything even if they wanted to.

“So my options are death, death or going raw?” Spencer whined immediately. Emily focused her eyes on something else instantly, the patterned carpet on the floor, the TV that was showing different scenery as it was in rest mode.

“Oh my god, you are so dramatic! You’re not going to die if we don’t have sexy every day.” The sound of a spoon clattering down and then she broke out into a fit of giggles.

“But how do you know!” He whined again.

“Like I said, it's your choice. It doesn’t really matter to me, I’m just sick of always having to go to the store. And you’re squeezing my ribs.”

“I like your idea. Besides, we have abortion money.” She gasped softly and then broke into light laughter. JJ’s jaw dropped open and Derek snorted before he covered his nose. Of everything that was expected it wasn’t that.

“That’s awful, baby.” She scolded and Emily got a mental image of the two. Was she standing in front of the stove, the smell of food wafting through the house, Spencer standing behind her with arms wrapped firmly around her? If Emily wasn’t so uncomfortable right now her mouth would be watering. It would also warm her heart to hear how happy her friend was.

“I’m sorry.” He joined in on the laughter.

“Oh my god we’re being awful host! Plate up the soup and I’ll pour the wine.”

Once the two came back out, it was hard to even look at Spencer knowing that he had apparently helped break a bed frame. Even if he was holding trays of the most mouth watering gumbo.

“Who wants to watch Interstellar?”

#black reader #x reader #x black reader #fem reader #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x black reader #criminal minds #bau team

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twitchmattentusiast · 10 months ago

Text

｡°✩ 𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐄 . . . . .ᐟ

─── MATTHEW STURNIOLO.

pairings. matthew sturniolo x female oc

❝ i’m not really bothered about the words, though, when i can do the actions…. ❞

# warnings: smut obvs, teasing, praising, masturbation, dom!matt, degrading?

matt knew that his best friend loved to read, and for as long as he can remember, his earliest memories included teasing his best friend as she sat on the school hill with some type of book in her hands as matt and his brothers played some sport during recess.

as stella got older, that didn’t change at all. whenever matt went over, her bookshelves were filled to the brim; some books had to be on the floor. the floor was covered in so many books that matt couldn’t even see the floor. not only that, she constantly left a supply of books literally everywhere; matt couldn’t even count on one hand how many times she'd left one of her books in his car or his room.

though matt knew stella loved to read, he didn’t quite know what she liked to read; he assumed since she was a sucker for rom-coms that she read corny shit like that, so he just always continued to tease her at the fact that when she came over to his, she’d sit on his bed reading under a blanket while he played some video game, the pair of them both sitting in a comfortable silence as one read and the other played video games for hours.

it was only a week ago, though, when matt found out what stella actually read about.

you see, last friday, chris and stella thought it would be a great idea to get absolutely wasted at a party a few towns over. matt wasn’t really feeling a party at all that night, so only stella, nick, and chris went. apparently, chris and stella got a little too wasted and started oversharing literally everything.

a drunk stella revealed to a sober nick that she read smut books.

to say that matt was shocked was an understatement. hearing that his best friend wasn't reading the fluffy corny shit he assumed she was reading shocked him enough, but then he learned that not only has his innocent best friend been reading smut since the age of 12; she’s been reading the most degrading, filthy smut on a daily basis.

you see, ever since nick told matt the type of books stella reads, he hasn’t been able to get it out of his head—the idea that his innocent best friend, who literally gets grossed out the second chris starts going into detail about a girl he made out with or a girl he fucked in the last week, was reading smut? holy shit, it was driving him insane.

and that’s the exact reason why matt is seated on his gaming chair, a smirk on his face as his eyes follow the figure of his best friend looking around his room in a panic.

“looking for something, stell?” matt asked in confusion.

though matt knew exactly what she was looking for.

stella chewed at the bottom of her lip in frustration as she scanned another corner of matt’s room. she silently scolded herself. how could she be so fucking stupid and accidentally leave another one of her books lying around?

it was around two hours ago when stella had just gotten back from work. she showered quickly as soon as she stepped foot into the house, and she had planned to finish the book she was reading: twisted hate, the third book in the series her best friend had recommended, but when she opened up her bedside table, it was nowhere to be seen.

stella instantly panicked. she had always been careless with her books, forgetting where she had left them, but she really couldn’t believe she left a book like that somewhere.

she tried to remember where she could have left it when she remembered reading it at the triplets house a few days ago, and so she quickly called matt, telling him she was coming over in hopes of getting her book back as soon as possible.

only when she stepped into matt’s room her book was literally nowhere. which confused the fuck out of stella, to be honest, because she swore she left it in matt’s room unless she left it in nick’s? or even worse, chri-

matt chuckled as he watched her frustration grow. “what are you looking for?” he tried again. “maybe if you tell me, i can help you.” he suggested

stella hesitated; she wasn’t really sure if she wanted matt helping her; if he found the book before her, he might read the blurb or something, and the idea of matt knowing what she read . . . no thanks. but then again, she desperately needed her book back, so she sighed. "i’m looking for my book,” she told him, missing how matt smirked at her words. the plan he had set was starting to move its toggles.

"i think i might have left it in your room by accident. have you seen it? it’s kind of redish and it’s called twisted hate.”

matt’s eyes lit up at the mention of the title. "redish, huh?" he mused, pretending to act as if he’d never heard of the book before. after a minute of silence, his eyes lit up in some sort of remembrance.

“oh yeah, you left it here the other day.” He told her.

stella sighed in relief. thank god, she thought. “where is it?” she asked him. usually, when she left a book in his room, he left it on his gaming desk for her, but this time it wasn’t there.

with a sinister grin, matt stood up from his chair and started to walk around the room, searching for the book. "i’m sure i put it somewhere safe," he said nonchalantly, knowing damn well where exactly it was. after some pretend searching, he finally "found" it hidden under a stack of old comic books on top of his dresser.

he walked towards her, slowing down as he approached her. stella sighed in relief, reaching out to grab the book, but matt pulled it away at the last second and smirked at her. “oh, you can’t have it back yet.” he told her.

stella’s eyebrows furrowed. “what? why?” she asked in confusion.

“because i’m borrowing it.”

stella’s eyes widened slightly at his words, though she attempted to appear casual. “what do you mean you’re borrowing it?” she chuckled nervously. “you don’t even know how to read.” she joked.

matt chuckled at her words, "insane." he said, before shrugging, "i’m not really bothered about the words, though, when i can do the actions.”

“actions?"

"yeah, you know, the dirty stuff in the book." matt smirked.

stella’s face began to pale. matthew sturniolo, her best. friend. since. kindergarten, knows what’s in those books she reads. this was like her own personal hell. "what are you talking about?” stella asked as she attempted to still save herself.

"don't play dumb with me, stell." matt walked closer to her, his eyes gleaming with anticipation. "i know exactly what you like to read about; don't deny it."

her eyes widened, and her mouth froze, unable to get any words out. because what the actual fuck? “chapter 18 was hot, don’t you think?” he teased.

“you’ve read it?” stella squeaked.

matt ignored her. though his silence was enough, he'd totally read it, and she wanted to die. "tell me, stella,” matt said as he brushed a curl behind her ear. “when you’re in my bed reading these books, do you touch yourself?”

stella’s heart raced as he spoke so close to her ear, goosebumps forming on her exposed neck. she bit down hard on her bottom lip, unable to meet his gaze directly. "n-no," she managed to croak out.

matt titled his head to the side. “you lying to me, stell?”

stella’s heart pounded in her chest. she shook her head vigorously, trying to deny it, but the truth was there, hiding somewhere deep inside of her. "m-maybe once..." she whispered back, her voice barely audible.

“only once?”

stella nodded her head, and matt hummed, his hand caressing her cheek softly. “hm,” he said after a moment. "should i tell you how many times i’ve touched myself reading that book?” he asked.

stella’s breath hitched at his words, her cheeks flushing crimson red as she tried to think of something else, but now all she could think about was matt reading her book and touching himself to it.

matt smirked. “since you secretly touch yourself when we’re hanging out and when you read that book, why don’t you touch yourself for me so i can read it to you?"

stella’s breath caught in her throat, her mind racing with conflicting emotions. part of her was terrified, but another part was excited. the idea of matt reading out the books she reads in his very room under a thick blanket where she grew so wet she couldn’t take it anymore sounded too good; she didn’t know if she could pass that up. though she was scared of their friendship and what could happen, the heat grew unbearable, and suddenly she felt her pussy drip at matt’s words.

"yes," she croaked out.

matt’s eyes lit up, and he couldn't help but grin widely before sitting back down in his gaming chair. "good girl," he praised.

stella stood there nervously until matt told her to go and lie on his bed. she followed his instructions and quickly laid on his bed, watching as he opened up the book. he smirked at her. “let’s read 26 yeah? i haven’t read it yet.”

stella nodded too anxiously and excitedly to even say anything as she watched matt flicker through the pages before grinning widely as he stopped at chapter 26. he wasted no time at all and started reading the words of the page. stella felt herself grow wetter as matt read the dirty words, and her breath hitched suddenly as he looked over at her. “touch yourself, baby," he instructed.

she hesitated for a moment, unsure of what to do, but ultimately she couldn't resist the urge anymore. slowly, tentatively, she reached down, feeling glad she decided to wear a skirt today, and brushed her hand against her pants, feeling the wetness spread across them.

"fuck.." she moaned softly, arching her hips into the touch. matt grinned and started reading again once he knew she had started touching herself.

“look at you,” matt cooed as she began rubbing circles around her clit, “touching yourself like a fucking slut while i read this dirty book to you.”

stella’s breath hitched as she continued to pleasure herself, her hips rocking against the bed in sync with matt’s words. her moans grew louder, and she couldn't help but close her eyes, lost in the sensation. “soo pathetic.” matt laughed, “bet you touch yourself and imagine it’s us fucking, huh?”

she nodded frantically. "yeah," she panted out between breaths.

matt chuckled, “look at you, not even trying to deny it anymore; you’re pathetic, stella.”

stella’s heart raced as he continued to read aloud. she moved the fingers that had made her way inside of her unknowingly even faster, rubbing harshly at her clit with her thumb. "i’m so close, matt," she moaned.

matt suddenly stopped talking. stella furrowed her eyebrows, looking at him in confusion as she stopped touching herself. “wh-“

“chapters over," matt sighed. “that was a short chapter.” he fake pouted

stella groaned, her body still tensing from the brink of orgasm. "more, please," she begged, unable to control herself anymore.

matt chuckled darkly, standing up from his chair and walking slowly towards her. he reached out a hand, helping her sit up before leaning down and capturing her lips in a hot, hungry kiss. stella kissed back hungrily. his tongue demanded entrance into her mouth, and she moaned into it, returning the favour eagerly. after a moment, he broke the kiss, his breath coming heavy. "i guess i could finish another chapter for you." he said, and stella nodded her head quickly. “of i could fuck you like those sluts you read about."

stella’s heart raced wildly as he spoke, her body trembling with anticipation. she bit down on her bottom lip, unsure of what she wanted. after a long moment of silence, she managed to whisper, "fuck me."

matt smirked. “take your clothes off.” he demanded.

stella hesitated for a moment, her hands shaking as she began to undress herself, first removing her top, revealing her lacy bra, then her skirt and panties. she stood naked before him, her breasts jiggling slightly as she stepped out of her underwear. "now you," she said breathlessly.

matt chuckled. he underessed himself slowly, revealing his muscular torso and a pair of black boxers that were tenting in an obvious fashion. finally, he kicked them off, exposing his thick, hardened cock, glistening with pre-cum.

"get on your knees and suck me," he ordered, and stella didn't hesitate. she fell to her knees before him, her lips brushing against the head of his cock as she wrapped one hand around the base, stroking him rhythmically. her tongue traced along the underside of his shaft, teasing it before she took him fully into her mouth, deep-throating him with ease.

matt groaned, his hand tangling in her hair. "that's a good girl," he praised. "now touch yourself while you suck me."

stella whimpered softly, her fingers finding their way back between her legs, rubbing circles around her clit again.

matt moaned, his hips thrusting upward into her mouth and his cock hitting the back of her throat. his free hand reached down to fondle one of her breasts roughly, pinching and tweaking her nipple hard enough to make her yell. she moaned around his cock, making him thrust even harder into her mouth. “fuck stell, feels so good, baby.” he moaned.

stella’s body trembled with pleasure as she continued to please him, her tongue working over his cock expertly while her hand rubbed her clit even faster. she moaned in response to his rough treatment of her nipple, her body reacting to the dual sensation. her moans turned into high-pitched whimpers as she felt her orgasm approaching once again.

matt growled, his cock throbbing in her mouth as he felt her nearing climax. "come on, stell, cum for me." he commanded, and she did just that, her walls clenching tightly as wave after wave of intense pleasure washed over her body.

stella’s moans turned into high-pitched whimpers as she orgasmed again, her body shaking violently in ecstasy. meanwhile, matt didn't hold back either; his own release was imminent. with a loud groan, he pulled out of her mouth, his cum painting her face and neck while he jerked himself off, shooting his cum all over her chest and stomach.

stella breathed heavily, moaning as she looked down and saw matt’s cum all over her chest and tits. “please, matt,” she begged.

matt chuckled. "what do you want, stell?" he asked, reaching over to clean some of the mess off her body with his tongue.

"more," she replied, moaning as his mouth started to suck on her nipple after matt licked the cum on it. her hands flew straight to his hair, gripping it tight. "i need you inside me so badly, matt, please.” she begged.

"you’re so needy.” matt chuckled as he moved down her body. he pushed her onto the bed, kissing her all the way up to where she needed him most. instead of fucking her like she had begged him too, he inserted a finger inside of her. “you’re so wet," he smirked.

stella groaned, her body arching into his touch as he kissed and teased her sensitive areas. "matt, please..." she pleaded, her voice becoming more desperate.

"not yet," he taunted, his hand trailing to cup her wetness, rubbing her clitoral area in circles. "want you to beg more."

stella’s breath hitched, her nails digging into his back as she whined, "please, matt, i need you now, please." her body was trembling with desire, begging for release.

matt smirked. “turn around, baby," he told her, and before she even had the chance, matt pushed her head into a pillow, her ass hanging into the air as he spanked it. “you want me to fuck you like a whore so fucking badly, huh?"

stella’s heart skipped a beat as he spanked her ass, the stinging sensation only fueling her desire. "yes! please, matt!" she pleaded, her voice cracking with need.

matt chuckled, reaching between her legs to tease her sensitive spot once more. "so eager for me to take you, huh?" he taunted.

stella whimpered, her hips buckling back against his touch, desperately seeking more. "y-yes!" she managed to choke out between gasps.

matt lined up his cock with her tight entrance and pushed inside her slowly, filling her up completely. "oh god, matt..." her moans turned into high-pitched moans of pleasure as he began to thrust in and out of her, hitting all the right spots. his hands gripped her hips tightly, holding her steady as he pounded into her from behind.

matt groaned, his hips moving in sync with hers, each powerful thrust sending waves of pleasure throughout her entire body. "you feel so fucking good, stell," he panted out between heavy breaths.

“fuck, matt, i-“

“hold it.”

stella’s nails scratched the bedsheet as she tried to comply, her orgasm crashing over her like waves. "i-i can't..." she whimpered.

"just hold on." he growled, continuing to thrust into her.

stella nodded, but her walls started to clench, driving matt to the edge. “cum for me, baby," he told her, and stella came instantly, her mouth hanging open as she screamed. matt watched. “oh god, stell," matt groaned, his hips stuttering for a moment before he finally released himself inside her, filling her up completely with his thick cum. he buried his face in her neck, panting heavily as their bodies slowly started to calm down from the intense high.

stella’s body trembled with exhaustion, her legs shaking as she came down from the powerful orgasm. "m-matt..." she managed to utter in between heavy pants.

“that was fucking amazing." he panted, pulling out of her slowly, his cock still coated in their shared fluids. gently, he helped her lie down beside him, their bodies sticky and sweaty.

matt wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her against him. stella closed her eyes, feeling exhausted; usually, sex like that knocked her straight out.

matt watched her with a slight smile. “stell?”

“hm?” she mumbled tiredly.

"i think you should bring another smut book over next time.”

stella rolled her eyes, smacking him on his arm and smirking as he groaned, “shut the fuck up and go to sleep, you dork.” she laughed.

matt didn’t need to be told twice. “yes, ma'am.” he said, wrapping his arm tighter around her body and kissing her neck before the pair both fell asleep.

unfortunately, though, matt ended up forgetting to lock his door.

“WHAT THE FUCK? NEXT TIME LOCK THE FUCKING DOOR?”

｡°✩

this was so long holy fuck😭😭😭

this is like the first smut i’ve wrote that’s been seen by someone other than one of my ibfs so if this sucks i’m so sorry😭

umm let me know if y’all want more/ if u got requests?

- 𝓷. ᥫ᭡

#matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo x reader

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mytaiyakeylover · 2 years ago

Text

i just want to cuddle.

synopsis: all your super clingy and adorable boyfriend wants is for you to give him some attention.

pairing: mikey x gn!reader

a/n: this is my first time writing something on tumblr. i’ve only recently begun to use this platform, but i hope you’ll like this little one-shot🥰

warnings: none, just plain fluff and mikey being his usual overly dramatic self.

word count: 1.1k

series masterlist | next

Manjiro sighed, a pout slowly forming on his lips. It had already been four hours. Four goddamn hours and you still haven’t as much as glanced in his direction. He just couldn’t help it. Did you not love him anymore? It sure as hell seemed to be that way considering the amount of time you were willing to spend doing math.

The boy groaned loudly, hoping to get your attention. He then closed his eyes and let out a deep sigh that conveyed his utter agony. Two minutes passed, then five, and finally six.

Manjiro peered at your silent figure through his lashes, his right eyebrow twitching in annoyance at the lack of attention he was receiving. How could you be so indifferent? After all, your boyfriend was lying sprawled on your bed in the same room where you were doing homework, and all you had to do was ask him if he was okay.

The blond puffed out his cheeks and crossed his arms over his chest, glaring at you. Another set of five minutes went by without any progress. You just continued to stare at that stupid, demon-like book, filled with evil spells and, perhaps, even guides on how to steal a gang leader's lover.

“(Y/n)-chan~!” The boy whined, hitting his knuckles against the soft cushion, looking very much like a five year old. You hummed in response, not quite acknowledging him so it seemed.

That’s it. Manjiro couldn't tolerate it anymore. It was seriously starting to get on his nerves. All the blond wanted was for you to come and cuddle him, not lying on this cold and empty bed as some cursed book was stealing all your attention from him. It was about time you made a decision.

Muttering a few curses for having to leave the comfortable bed, he quietly padded towards you, who seemed far too occupied with studies to acknowledge him. Carefully placing his chin atop your shoulder, he wrapped his arms around your waist and peered curiously over the worksheets. Don't get him wrong, he wasn't interested in the content in the slightest. The blond simply wanted to know what could have been so interesting that it made you ignore him for several hours straight.

He nudged your cheek, quite similar to the way a dog would whenever it wanted some attention from its owner. However, his nudge seemed to be a bit more awkward since his nose wasn't as long, causing his forehead to hit you slightly as well. You sighed at his stubbornness, tilting your head slightly to his side to make eye contact.

Manjiro was sporting his famous puppy dog eyes, a look reserved only for you and Ken. He released his grip on your waist and reached for the fabric of your hoodie, giving it a gentle tug. His pout deepened, and his bottom lip jutted out to make his point.

“Jiro~,” now it was your turn to whine. “I'd love to cuddle with you, but you know how important school is to me.” You blinked your eyelashes at him innocently, trying to coax him into waiting just a few more minutes. Manjiro could easily tell by your expression, as well as the lilt in your voice, since it was just slightly more sugar-coated than usual.

The boy shook his head in defiance, refusing to fall for that act again. You literally said the same thing an hour and a half ago. Did school really mean that much more to you than him?

“Forget school (Y/n)-chan,” he huffed, ignoring the appalled look you gave him as those words left his mouth. “Am I not more important?”

Manjiro was looking at you expectantly, eyebrows arched as he awaited your reply. The fact that you took so much time to answer did not deter him whatsoever, as he found the confusion in your pretty (e/c) eyes too adorable to make him angry. You were obviously taking his question very seriously, which you should, as Manjiro himself was not joking around. He did, in fact, want an actual answer from you.

“Of course you are, Jiro,” you spoke softly, eyes tinged with a hint of guilt that made Manjiro’s heart skip a beat. Perhaps you had taken his question a bit too seriously. Your hand went up to cup his cheek, eyebrows furrowing while doing so.

“I just want to achieve a stable future. I'm sorry if I've accidentally neglected you,” you said as the blond leaned into your soft, yet cold palm. He sighed contentedly, despite the coolness of your fingertips against his warm skin. Your hands always seemed to be so cold, even during the hottest days of summer.

A smile soon grazed his lips, onyx eyes twinkling with mischief. He nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, peppering it with kisses as his hands once again snaked around your waist. Giggles escaped your lips as the boy suddenly lifted you, forcing a squeak out of you in the process.

Manjiro laughed at your reaction, finding it exceptionally cute. The blonde continued swaying with you back and forth until you both ended up falling onto the mattress. Snickers filled the room, your cheeks equally flushed as if you were completely drunk on each other.

Then he tightened his arms around you slightly. His forehead resting on yours as he held you trapped against the bed. “Jiro, get off, you’re heavy,” you gasped, words mixing with giggles.

“No more school, you got me?” He asked instead, that same pout from before reappearing on his face. Then, the boy repositioned both of you on the bed, laying you down more comfortably beside him. His arms were still securely wrapped around you, preventing any escape.

Manjiro closed his eyes after that, sighing dreamily as he inhaled your heavenly scent. Lips quirked up slightly as he felt your thin nimble fingers stroke his long ash blonde locks. Your angelic voice reached his ears as you started humming some song you had recently heard and grown to love.

As your lovely singing began to fade, Manjiro’s heart finally found a steady pace. For the first time since he had entered your room, did he realize that those four hours were worth the wait. Well, as long as he would get to keep you in his embrace afterwards.

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plant-pluto · 2 months ago

Text

Bandmates!

(Rodrick x GN! Reader)

Wordcount: 3,301

Summary- You and Rodrick are as thick as thieves, an effect that comes with practically being attached at the hip since you were kids. But lately, you can’t help but act as anyone but yourself around him, maybe it had something to do with your newly developed crush on him. The once small issue became so uncontrollable that it’s been affecting your performance in the band, how were you gonna fucking explain that.

It started off small, a few thoughts that you let float around your mind for too long morphed into stolen glances that were never returned. Those glances caused your heart to stutter in a way that you’d swore it stopped beating. You noticed that it then managed to manifest itself during the little things, like when he’d laugh, or when his hand would brush against yours, or when you’d swear that you’d feel his gaze on the back of your neck.

And now, you found yourself on one of the many sleepless nights that had now become normalcy ever since the plague that was Rodrick Heffley wreaked havoc throughout your mind. You were restless, mind racing over one simple interaction that had caused your brain to malfunction and your heart to beat irregularly. It had been something so stupid, but it was something so him that it had literally made you restless.

You looked at the inanimate object that you had been clutching in your hand, it was a small keychain with something you had mentioned off-handedly a year ago. But today, Rodrick had gifted it to you, rambling about how he saw it in the store and how he knew you liked it. It was a trait of his, overexplaining, a trait that you couldn’t help but relish in, always letting yourself get swept up in his voice as he rushed to explain his actions.

He said that he had thought of you when he got it, and that caused you to ponder, does he think of you like you think of him? Are you the source of restless nights that have him secretly yearn for your presence in a way he hasn’t before? Do you also haunt his thoughts like a ghost of the night in search of something they know they can never have?

You groaned as you rolled over, tossing and turning as you picked at your brain. Trying to get to the bottom of this foreign fondness that started to blossom. Sure you liked Rodrick, and he did too, it’s an effect that comes with growing up together. But this, this felt different, it felt like your biggest secret, something so private, something so scandalous, that you couldn’t tell anyone. Not Ben, not Chris, and absolutely, under no circumstances, could Rodrick find out. That’s the thing that became lost to you, why did it feel like you had something to hide. There was no reason to hide your fondness for a friend, unless.

You shot up, sitting upright as your blanket flew from your body, it was as if you had managed to dig up secrets you had forced yourself to bury years ago, secrets that had blossomed its way through the soil you had buried them with. The flowers finally maturing as you did, and you were now mature enough to realize,

You liked Rodrick Heffley. Slamming the keychain down on your nightstand, you suddenly felt much too warm in your room. You looked over at the clock and the bright numbers glared back at you, it was four in the morning, and you had to get ready for school in a few hours. Debating on whether or not to get some sleep, your heart thumping in your ears told you that it wouldn’t be so easy. Flopping back down onto your bed, you grabbed at your phone, deciding to do whatever to pass the time before your day started.

Your eyes creaked open much like the door to your room as exhaustion made itself apparent. What also became glaringly obvious was that you had woken up late, your mother’s imposing figure causing you to shoot up out of your bed once more. You rummaged throughout your room, mom having left once she saw you spring into action.

Honk Honk

Just as you had managed to slip on the last of your outfit, Rodrick had shown up as he normally did. Giving yourself a once over in your room mirror, you grabbed your bag and rushed down the stairs, not wanting to keep him waiting for too long although he normally did.

Your exhaustion seemed to be replaced with a rush of excitement as you neared the van, messy brown hair in your sights as you threw open the passenger door. “ Morning Hot Rod. Mornin’ Greg.” You called out, looking towards Greg in the back of the van before turning back over to Rodrick.

“ Sup, you’re here early.” Rodrick teased, his signature smirk that you used to not bat an eye at sent a flurry of butterflies throughout your stomach. “Maybe I’m just on time for once Heffley.” You bit back, tone matching his as you sent him a grin. “Plus, woke up late so I had to rush.” You shrugged, playing with the hems of your outfit.

For some reason, you felt so awkward, like your words were caught on the tip of your tongue as you scrambled for anything to keep the conversation going just to talk to him.

Rodrick hummed, tires squealing on the asphalt as he peeled off, tapping the drum line to the song blaring on the radio. Getting lost in the rhythmic tap tap tap on the steering wheel, you zoned in on the scenery ahead. A particularly rough turn had you jolting over to the left, and you would’ve bumped into Rodrick had it not been for your seatbelt. “ You know, one day we’re going to go to the gas station parking lot and drive until you can do it without almost killing me.” You scolded lightly, amused huff escaping past your lips as you looked over. And god what a mistake that was.

The morning light has cascaded across him perfectly, casting shadows in all the right places to define his features more than they already were. He glanced at you out of the corner of his eye, laughing as he shook his head, and the glimpse at his usual dark brown eyes robbed you of any more smart replies as they were now a beautiful hazel in the light. You knew, right then, in that moment, as you stared at the picture perfect man in front of you, that you were beyond screwed. Especially once his lips parted, and you couldn’t help but stare at them as he focused on the road. They were surprisingly full, and the prettiest shade of pink, the words that escaped them almost lost to you. “ Big words for someone who can’t drive.”

Your mouth floundered for a moment, before rolling your eyes with a scoff as you reluctantly tore your eyes away.

“ Whatever, I bet if I took the wheel from you right now I’d be loads better.”

“Oh really?”

His tone was daring, taunting, and you recognized the familiar mischief in his eyes when you looked back over.

“ Go ahead, do it. Watch, no hands!”

You watched as he lifted his hands up off the wheel, a horrified shriek from Greg in the back matching your look of horror.

“ Rodrick!”

You exclaimed, hands going over to the wheel, but before you could get to it, his hands went back into their respective positions. Unable to slow your movements, your hands rested atop his for a swift moment.

“ Chillaxxx I was just playing, don’t worry I’m not that stupid.”

He chuckled as you glared up at him, and you kept up the expression for a moment, before laughter couldn’t help but bubble its way to the surface. You retracted your hands, internally panicking over the debate that you left them there for too long, but also over the fact that the contact had sent you into a little frenzy.

Yet another sharp turn had you bumping into the passenger side door, panic fleeting as Westmore middle came into view. “ Alright Greg, out.” Rodrick glanced at Greg through the rear view mirror, said boy already hurling open the van door as soon as you guys rolled to a stop. Giving him a little nod as a means to say bye, the harsh slam sending you guys back into motion once more. Rodrick peeled off, and once again you felt the pit of awkwardness settle into your stomach as you struggled to find something to say. “So-” “Uhm-” You huffed in amusement as you both had managed to speak at the same time. Watching as a smile curled across Rodrick’s face, a small chuckle escaping from between his lips, and you had to fight the urge to look at them. “ What’s up Rod?” You questioned, wondering what he could possibly have to say when you didn’t even know what to say yourself. “ So for practice later right…” He continued to ramble on, and conversation seemed to begin to flow naturally as you two bounced back and forth.

Eventually, it was time for said practice, Chris, Ben, Rodrick, and of course you bustled out the school doors amongst the crowd of students. Sitting in your assigned passenger seat, Rodrick’s house slowly crept into view, and the fear of keeping yourself together during practice became very apparent once you got into the garage.

Zipping open your guitar case suddenly made your hands shake, and you cursed yourself for getting nervous despite having played in front of Rodrick countless times before. A mechanical buzz filled the air once you flicked the amp on, and you caught up with everyone else while they got set up. “ Soooo how was school?” Ben questioned in a sing-song tone. You shrugged, “Same as always, but Ms.Woods would literally not shut up.” You groaned, recalling the history class that always seemed to drag on no matter how many minutes were left in the period.

Ben grimaced,” Ugh, I had her junior year, and let me tell you, I did not go to one class.” “Tell me about it.” You lamented, ready to ask another question but the crash of the drums caught your attention. Your head whipped around to face Rodrick, and your hands instinctively found their places. It was one of your songs, a song that was quite literally muscle memory to you at this point. Keeping track of the rhythm, your head went up to do a quick look around the room. Honestly, you really should’ve known not to by now, your eyes becoming glued to what they were normally pulled towards. Silently watching as he played, you couldn’t help but get lost in your admiration, hand stalling as you messed up the chord and instantly grew flustered. “Fuck!” You exclaimed, looking down at your own hands as if they had betrayed you. “My bad guys.” You stated, sheepishly looking around at the guys despite knowing they definitely didn’t mind. Unfortunately, this wasn’t a one time occurrence, it was more of a, every band practice when Rodrick had managed to distract you despite not doing anything to be distracted by thing. Like that one time on Tuesday when you took too long to play in a song you were supposed to start. All because Chris had made a joke right before and Rodrick had begun to laugh. Or, on Friday when you dropped your pick because Rodrick just so happened to send you a smile whilst playing.

Now today, today was going the same as always. Music thrummed throughout the garage, as you played alongside the boys. Surprisingly, everything was going smoothly, and you grew relieved you were becoming accustomed to your little crush. Unfortunately, your relief didn’t last long.

Fingers coming to a halt as it was Rodrick’s solo, you instinctively turned around to watch. Again, big mistake, growing too distracted by the sights in front of you, the part you were supposed to start playing on approached much more rapidly than usual. Caught off guard, your hands flew to their respective frets.

The unpleasant twang that resonated from your instrument rang throughout the room, and a frustrated groan tore its way from your throat. Removing the strap from your shoulder, you set your guitar down, and threw yourself onto the couch. Hands running across your face and up to your hair, causing you not to see Rodrick shooing away Chris and Ben.

The sudden sensation of someone lifting your legs and setting them back on their lap had you jolting up. You were met with Rodrick’s piercing stare a brush away from your face. “ Rodrick?” You questioned, clearing your throat as your voice had managed to come out strained, and you hoped he didn’t notice. “ What's wrong?” His question garnered an instant reaction from you, face instantly heating as a chorus of ‘oh shit’ and ‘oh fuck’ rang throughout your mind.

“ What do you-” You were cut off before you could even act dumb. “ C’mon, seriously, don’t give me that.”

It was rare to see Rodrick so serious, his gaze intense as he maintained eye contact, voice low and thick with concern as he questioned. “ I… I’m just tired is all,” you shifted, bringing your knees up to your chest as you put some distance between the two of you,” I haven’t been sleeping too much lately, it's nothing, don't worry about it.” The answer clearly didn’t satisfy Rodrick, his hands palmed at the legs of his jeans, his eyes darting over to the side of the room as he sucked his teeth, “ It really seems like somethings bothering you though, you’ve been so distracted lately, the guys are also starting to worry.” You chose not to answer, eyes looking down at your arms holding your legs, silently mortified over the fact you were that obvious with your little crush. “ Really Rodrick, it’s nothing I swear.” You tried to assure, and realistically, it was nothing, it wasn’t as serious as Rodrick had thought, but you couldn’t help but find this sweet.

“ You know you can tell me anything right?”

Rodrick grumbled, crossing his legs, and resting his chin on his palm. Your mouth parted, almost blurting out something stupid, but just as quickly as it opened, it shut. Your friend, who can be painfully observant when he wants to be, gave you a look.

“ What?”

Rodrick pried, clearly picking up on the fact you almost said something.

“ What do you mean?”

You asked sheepishly, playing dumb even though you know he had caught you.

“ Don’t act like you weren’t gonna say something.” Rodrick pressed, albeit teasingly, your anxiety couldn’t help but rise.

“ It’s just…just that… fuck.” You stumbled and cursed, deciding to commit to it didn’t make the words come out any easier.

Avoiding Rodrick’s eyes as you looked at the little string lights that danced around the room, you fiddled with your fingers. The room dropped to a terse silence as you tried to get the words out, and Rodrick sat, hanging onto everything that came out of your mouth.

“ Ilikeyou!”

You blurted it out in one go, words jumbled as you abruptly shot up from the couch, practically running to the door, not even waiting for a response as embarrassment burned your cheeks.

“ Hey!” Rodrick called after you, but it was too late.

Slam

The little garage door clattered behind you, and you were already halfway down the driveway when you heard it open again. The sound of Rodrick rushing after you made you speed up instinctively, but the grip on your wrist had you spinning around, crashing into him.

You stilled, brain stalling and preparing for the worst as you took a small step back in order to look at him. The hand on your wrist was warm, and when you finally mustered up the courage to turn your gaze elsewhere, you were met with a flushed face, and parted lips.

“ Did I hear you right?” Rodrick blurted out, and your aversion to his gaze confirmed it before your nod did. With that, a small teasing smile curled its way onto his face, and it did nothing to quell the butterflies in your stomach. “ Can you say it again, just to confirm?” All stress left your body at his teasing, with an eye roll, and a scoff, you shoved him the best you could. “ If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you liked me, Rodrick.” You joked, elated at the fact he seemed to like you too, despite having not confirmed it, his reaction was enough. “ I do.” Those two simple words made you halt, and your face grew impossibly warmer, but this time not due to embarrassment. “ Like you! I mean.” Rodrick stuttered, confession seemingly shocking himself and much like you, his face was now a deep scarlet rather than the light pink it was previous. “ So that's why you were acting so weird!” Ben’s voice exclaimed from the van. It was now made very much apparent that Chris and Ben were indeed watching the whole spectacle, and you shot him a joking glare as you walked towards the two. “ Awww, all for little ole’ me?” Rodrick piped up from beside you, and you groaned. “ You know what, I take it back! I lied!” You spoke through your laughter, turning on your heel as you pretended to walk away. “No, wait! Come backkkkk!” Rodrick whined, hands going up to your shoulders in order to pull you back into him. You felt his chest on your back, and he rested his head on your shoulder. Your hands went up to his hair, an action commonly shared between you two as friends, but it was different now, and that thought caused a grin to split across your face. Resting your face on his head, you could hear the mocking coos from Chris and Ben. “ Totally called it by the way. Can’t believe you said I was delusional Rodrick.” Ben tsked, scolding Rodrick playfully as you two turned to face them. “ Holdon, you guys knew? How long have you liked me?” You exclaimed, breaking the contact in order to spin around and look Rodrick in the eyes. Rodrick flushed once more, and it was his turn to avert his gaze as he mustered up nothing better than a shrug.

“ I don’t know, I kinda just looked at you one day, then bang! I realized I had feelings for my best friend.”

He explained awkwardly, looking down to his shoes as you looked at him in amusement.

“ Best friend? Damn, friend zoned, that's rough.” You teased, knowing fully what he meant.

“What? Wait, no! You know that’s not what I meant.” Rodrick rushed, the words spewing from his mouth as he rambled.

A smile broke across your face at the sight of him stuttering, and stumbling over his words. It was endearing really, the way his eyes were darting every which way, and how his hands rested firmly on your shoulders as he tried to make his point clear.

“Pfft- Rodrick! I’m just joking, it’s fine.” You shushed him, planting your hands on the side of his face as you pulled him closer, pressing a quick kiss on his lips, and stealing his words. The teasing ‘ews’ and gagging caused you to pull back, and look back over to the van.

“Thank god.” Chris dramatically exclaimed.

“ Now that that's over, can we go to seven-eleven?” Ben wondered, the slight lick of his lips allowing you to inform he was hungry, and probably high.

“ Yeah, c’mon Hot Rod, let’s go.” You spoke as you walked over to the passenger side of the door, getting into the van just as Rodrick did.

The sputtering from the van as it started up told you to put your seatbelt on, and with a quick start, you guys were off.

#rodrick heffley #diary of a wimpy kid #doawk #doawk rodrick #i literally love rodrick #rodrick rules #löded diper #rodrick heffley fanfic #rodrick fanfic #diary of a wimpy kid rodrick #rodrick x reader #rodrick x y/n #rodrick heffley x reader #rodrick heffley imagine #rodrick heffley fanfiction #rodrick heffley x y/n

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certifiedlovergirlsstuff · 1 year ago

Note

Girl I’m so sorry I was dumb😭😭😭😭🙏 you already did an ask from me so literally feel so free to ignore this I’m so sorry but “you’ve never said my name like that” in the fwb prompt list for dick because, as once stated, I am indeed a slut with priorities. My priorities are him. I need him to be real rn

alec be GRATEFUL that i finished this in like a few hours. literally on the way to a wedding. no but seriously happy to give you some good dick😏 “you never said my name like that” from the friends with benefits prompt

pairing: dick grayson x fem!reader (use of y/n) wc: 888

500 celebration

you weren’t sure when this…thing happened between you and dick. you became friends at the age of fifteen in your ninth grade english class, found out he was the robin fighting alongside batman at age eighteen and now ages twenty three and twenty four the both of you came to an agreement of being friends with benefits. most of the benefits were sex and that was the best benefit, but there was moments where dick would slide into a more boyfriend vibe and it hurt your heart, in a good way. but it caused your heart to hurt cause if he was showing the gentle and attentive side after both of you were sweaty and catching stolen breaths, why couldn’t he just ask to be your boyfriend?

this was the question rolling around in your head as you’re back to the same scenario of laying tangled in dick’s dark blue sheets, hair a bit of a riot and clinging to your sticky skin. the sheets pulled to your chest with one knee in the air near the edge of the bed, droopy eyes watching as the man in question pulled his discarded boxers over his ass and waistband snapping to his skin.

“want something to eat? i got some of your ice cream in the freezer.” his left knee sunk into the mattress as he pressed his palms beside your covered leg. one hand moving to sit on the muscle, his thumb moving back and forth without his knowing.

“uh, yeah. yeah, that sounds good and some water, please.” shuffling against the headboard, flashing a simple smile.

dick’s watchful irises moved over your face before he smiled and leaned forward, his plush lips catching yours in a dizzying kiss. you couldn’t help but hum and chase him when he pulled away. his boyish chuckles warmed your ears.

“easy, baby,” voice thick and low, “gotta rest before another round starts.” he winked and left the room.

your heart was beating just as fast when you were doing…physical activities five minutes ago. these were the moments where your head got confused, not understanding when this invisible line was being crossed.

suddenly your mind was telling you to leave and go back to your sad and lonely apartment, so you listened. throwing the wrinkled sheets away you started to redress as you found pieces of your discarded clothing. underwear, socks, pants, bra…. missing. shirt also vanished into air so you dogged into dick’s closet and pulled out a sweater, the warm cotton wrapping you in a hug.

“hey, where- where are you going?” his words wavered along with the creak of the door moving.

you hopped like a bunny trying to stuff your feet back into your shoes, “i- i uh, think it’s best if i head home. got my benefits from my friend.” you looked up, the ice cream and water sitting on his dresser. dick standing tall and strong, trying to hide nerves pulling his muscles tight. he pushed some hair behind his ear, “y/n, what- what are you saying? that this is all just sex?”

now you scuffed, “well we aren’t in a relationship. but you bundle me in these moments of genuine affection and- and possibly love, but you haven’t bothered to change this dynamic.” facing him with your hands slapping your thighs.

“y/n… i just… i didn’t want to ruin anything.” he took steps closer, hands scrubbing over his face.

“you know,” your voice going quiet, “you’ve never said my name like that before.” such an odd thing to say during a sudden argument, but you couldn’t help yourself.

his brows scrunched in the middle, “what?”

you licked your lips, “the way you said my name. it just sounded… breathless. like taking a giant gasp of air after being underwater for too long.” the words just spilled out your mouth, not knowing if you were making sense.

dick took two more steps, gaining closer to your space. he raised a hand and pushed it back to his side, restricting himself. “well, you're like oxygen to me. i constantly need you to stay level headed. you keep me balanced. that’s why i was thrown off guard when you said this was just about sex. cause to me it’s not.” two more steps and with just an inch of space the two of you were chest to chest.

he finally raised his hands, cupping your warm cheeks against rough skin. “is it for you? is this just sex?” his adam’s apple bobbed with the thick swallow he took, waiting for the answer that will change everything.

with steady hands your fingers circled his wrists, middle and thumb almost touching. you held steady eye contact, no need to be flinching away from this truth you’ve held in for seven years.

“dick grayson, i have wanted you since tenth grade when i felt certain emotions when girls would flirt with you or when i’d watch you workout. this is more than sex for me, but it was the only way i could have you at the time, too afraid to say these simple words. but i’m not afraid anymore.”

you pushed up on your toes to get closer to dick’s waiting lips, parted in anticipation. “i’ve fallen for you dick grayson.”

#dick grayson blurb #dick grayson fic #dick grayson angst #dick grayson imagine #dick grayson x reader #dc comics dick grayson #dick grayson fluff #dick grayson #dick grayson x female!reader #dc comics nightwing #dc comics fic #nightwing imagine #nightwing angst #nightwing fluff #nightwing x reader #nightwing #erin’s 500 special #mutuals in the box

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lilystyles · 9 months ago

Text

when not in rome.

a @lilystyles blurb!

my masterlist & no strings attached masterlist & blurbs masterlist

authors note idk this was a random thing i wrote at 2AM because i just missed them, i am still working on style so don't worry that should be out soon. also this is set way before no strings, i love writing about them in their previous moments!

brief description harry surprises y/n at her graduation (also listen to love of my life by h whilst readinggg)

warnings! angsty? fluffy? drunk y/n and harry (2.1k)

younger!lhh!nostrings!h x reader

* * * * *

SIX YEARS BEFORE

University has a funny way of making you feel like you might never cross the finish line. Y/n like everyone else had multiple days where she would just sob and scream from the stress of it all. Exams were totally a torture device.

When Y/n graduated with her first degree before deciding to write her thesis Harry surprised her.

He’d been touring the world with One Direction for months now and she hadn’t seen him since Paris the year before, when he’d surprised her by flying her to join them in their Paris show and they’d had a wild few drunken nights that she felt blurred the lines of friendship into something more.

But after their few days, when the champagne ran out, and she came back home, she sobered and realised that nothing would ever happen between them. And if you spent a few nights with Harry in a limo drinking champagne and dealing with his wandering hands you too would fall for him. Just a bit. It's only natural.

She missed him, though, loads. He was one of her best friends after all.

Around a month ago they phoned each other, it was late for her and the morning for him, she’d been studying and they talked for hours catching up till the sky turned bright for her and her eyes drooped shut. The time between their phone calls had grown longer and longer now, and she missed him. She’d mentioned that she was graduating soon and that they were both supposed to be graduating if he’d stayed in Uni. She remembers them staying up late at parties discussing their futures and how post-graduation Harry was insistent that they’d still be roommates. She realised now that their dream definitely wasn’t a possibility anymore.

He’d told her that instead of being there graduating like they’d suspected he was going to be, he was in Rome at some fashion show gala thing, and his date was this sexy model named Rosalie who had her sex tape leaked a couple of months ago. She was happy for him, but a part of her couldn’t help but be disappointed. She felt like he was drifting away from her every day, but she couldn’t find in herself to be cross with him. He was swept up by the fame of it all, and how on earth could she be mad that he was literally a rockstar? She knew that he was still Harry and she was still Y/n but they weren’t Harry and Y/n anymore. Not like before.

And honestly, she’d probably leave everything and everyone behind, party all night, and sleep with sexy models too if she had the chance to be famous. But she couldn’t sing for shit. So instead she did what she was doing, and shoved her nose in a book rather than in lines off a bathroom sink, and she was rather content with the peacefulness of it all.

All thoughts of Harry were swept away from her mind when she walked across the stage in the grande hall. She was finally graduating! Thank god! She thought. She had a sash that showed she was an honours student, and she was blooming with pride, when they called her name her list of achievements was longer than the four painful years she’d spent studying in their grande libraries. She was so glad to shake the hand of one of her favourite professors and leave, the next year ahead she planned to travel and work overseas, she was excited about that.

But honestly, she was even more excited to get absolutely shit-faced at the graduation after-ball party. She found herself a few pints down, sitting by the edge of one of the fountains, when she nearly fell in at the absolutely shocking sight in front of her.

There was just no way it could be true. I mean he was in Rome, and she was drunk in London. She’d seen photos on her Twitter of him wrapping his tattooed arms around that Rosalie model girl, so how could he be here in London just like that? It was not real, surely. She must be hallucinating and the second-hand smoke of all the spliffs had finally got to her brain. But suddenly the man turned around and Jesus Christ it was him. It was Harry. His eyes were pinched as he searched the crowd and when he finally saw her they lit up, all green like a forest, and his mouth kicked up into that devilish grin of his.

He saw her dumb-struck expression and laughed softly walking toward his best friend. He was dressed in a suit jacket like everyone else, and since they were all drunk none of them noticed it was the Harry Styles of the One Direction AKA the biggest band in the world. To them, he was just some random twat who just graduated too.

His hair had grown all long and curly, and he just looked so much more like a man than when he’d left. Had he gotten taller? More strong? The arms of his jacket strained and Y/n sighed at the sight of him.

She didn't think she'd changed much, but Harry thought she looked even more beautiful than before, if possible.

When he stood right in front of her, her mouth was still wide in utter shock. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

He laughed. “Is that all you hafta’ say? Come on, hug your best friend!”

She sprang up from her seat and the silky long dress, which was a teal blue colour. All smooth and tight on her skin was hiked up slightly. Her gown and cap were long gone, as she wrapped her arms around his neck and shoulders. He lifted her up off the floor and spun them around.

She smelt like peaches and sweetness, and God, he could've stayed holding her for weeks.

She giggled and felt her face hurt from smiling so big. “Oh my God, I can’t believe you!”

When he placed her down, his hands did not leave the curve of her waist. “Surprise, babe.”

“What the- shit- I thought you were in Rome! How’d you even get here?” She asked

He smiled. “I was, got a flight this afternoon. It was the only one coming home, sorry for missing the graduation part.”

She just smiled up at him. “You’re crazy.”

He shook his head landing a hand on her shoulder. “I knew how important it was to you, and I missed you. Sue me.”

She laughed, eyes welling with slight tears. Maybe he wasn’t drifting too far from her after all. “Oh, god, don’t make me cry, you know how I get after a few pints, H.”

He laughed, arms outstretched for her to cuddle him. “Aw, pet, c’mere.”

She smacked his chest playfully but cuddled him nonetheless. “Let’s go get royally fucked, mate,” She whispered and they pulled apart, hands interlocking as she lead him off to one of the pubs where everyone was buying drinks.

It was called The Ducks Nuts.

A few of her mates were inside. Ones Harry didn’t know, but she’d already spent a good portion of the night with them. So she told them her old friend had surprised her and they’d be here and there.

Harry ordered them some shots and eventually the night was just a blur of hands touching each other, as they got so drunk Y/n felt her world spinning. They’d hopped around multiple different pubs and bars and Y/n was so tired. Her heels itched her feet with pain and she ripped them off, along with her bag. As they walked with little purpose she threw her things at him and began to dance in the middle of the road.

Harry was holding her things as she danced in the street showing her best Elton John impression, and he silently decided that was what made her so perfect. She was just herself. And he loved that about her, he loved everything about her.

He laughed and told her what a realistic impression it was, and how they’d met at some award show to back up that comment. She was infinitely jealous, she loved Elton.

On her way back toward him she landed in his arms after losing her footing he shook his head at her.

“You are very drunk, Lovie. Aren't ya'?" He said, in a soft tone one that made her tummy turn in flips.

She sighed as they walked in a direction with no destination in mind. “You aren’t drunk enough, you need to get on my level.”

He noticed her shiver under his arm and quickly ripped his coat off. It swallowed her form and she smiled gratefully hugging the coat around herself. It felt like a warm embrace, and that smell filled her nose and suddenly she was home in her old flat with him, home in Holmes Chapel, home with him. Just home.

“Smells good.” She giggled as she sniffed the shoulder pad, her cheek brushing against the soft material all dog-like. “N’ soft too.”

“Why thanks, it’s Gucci.” He replied.

She rolled her eyes. “Come on then, money-bags, let’s get you as drunk as me.”

They strolled into a tavern near her flat and drank so much tequila that they had to practically carry each other home.

As Harry looked up at the stars and moon, feeling the cool air nip her skin he sighed. He hadn’t gotten this drunk, and been this happy in such a long time. He was giggling contently, as she leaned into him and he silently wished that the night would never end.

He never wanted his time with her to end either. He loved spending time with her, whether they were on an adventure or doing nothing at all. Y/n made it worthwhile.

When they reached the shitbox of a flat she lived in Harry followed calmly behind her, and when one of her neighbours spat a comment about drunken youths he sighed, “I wish you would’ve taken up my offer,”

She looked up at him as she played with the jammy door that never seemed to open on the first try. Shoving her shoulder into it as she managed to finally wedge it open, stumbling inside ungracefully.

And with a roll of her eyes, she ushered him inside. “There is zero chance I’d let my all-of-sudden bazillionaire rockstar friend buy me a flat, just cause he can afford shoes worth more than my entire life savings. Anyway, how could I ever pay it back? I have two p to my name and a packet of noodles in my possessions, Harry.”

He laughed. “Think of it as a graduation present then,”

She sighed. “Just shut up and sit down, and I’ll get some wine.”

It was almost 4AM now, and neither cared. They were beyond drunk, but Y/n missed him and if force-feeding him wine would get him to spend a whole 24 hours with her, she totally would.

When she sat down with two mugs spilling with a cherry red wine, that was the cheapest shit she’d ever bought, Harry laughed. Her wobbly legs forced her to land awkwardly on one thigh practically on top of his. He smiled, one that showed his kind eyes.

Green pools of emerald she wished to swim in for eternity. She laughed at the thought, she really got poetic when she was drunk, huh?

“God, remind me to get you drunk more often.” He whispered.

She sighed. “Oh shut up, and fill me in on life then. Who are you shagging?”

He looked at her pointedly. “Who are you shagging?”

A blush crept up her neck, and suddenly the only secret she had kept from him was threatening to slip past her drunken red-stained lips.

“None of your business, but there’s this hot guy in my physics who I would totally shag,”

He laughed, but underneath it, he felt a jealousy creep up his spine, he knew he had no right since he’d been balls deep in two Italian models this morning, turns out threesomes are a really good cure for hangovers by the way. But despite that, he felt an itch he couldn’t scratch that resembled something pretty close to jealousy.

“What’s he like?” Harry asked.

She shrugged. “Dunno, tall, glasses, got that whole nerdy silent thing going for him.”

“That’s what you like then, silent types?” He asked, running a hand through his long curls, and she reached out to play with one.

She shook her head, and said distractedly, “I don’t know.”

“Makes sense why you never dated me then.”

During primary school, Harry dated every girl in their class including Daisy and Penny, except Y/n who told him she didn’t fancy him. It was an ongoing topic of discussion between them. Why wasn't he good enough? He always asked.

She laughed at that comment. “I know you too well for that, and I get the unfiltered you, and I lived with you which was basically like being married to you. We bickered too much to ever date, Haz.”

He looked at her with hooded eyes, and for some reason that stung, but trying to be light-hearted he said. “Never say never, what if we needed to repopulate the earth?”

She looked over at him and placed a hand on his and kissed his cheek, all soft and slow, and for a moment he thought she might actually kiss him for real but instead, she said. “There’ll be no hope for humanity then.”

He sighed, fake pouting before a couple of minutes of silence passed and he turned to her and said. “Come with me to Brazil.”

Her eyes widened, “What?"

“I leave tomorrow night, come with me.” He said.

She frowned. “What? Come with you? You can't be serious.”

He nodded. “Please? I miss you! And we can party for a whole week together, or sleep, or do whatever the fuck you want! Just come, pack a bikini and something sparkly, and I’ll take care of the rest.”

Y/n and Harry did end up going to Brazil but that’s a story for another time.

She stood up from the couch holding her hand out to him, and he slid his into hers. Cool rings grazing the soft skin of her palm.

“Let’s just go to sleep, you're talking like a crazy person.” She said, softly pushing a lock of his hair away from his eyes.

He sighed at her, “But m’ serious, Love.”

“Alright, ask me again tomorrow. That is if you even remember...now come on, let’s listen to Fleetwood Mac and sleep until tomorrow evening.”

Y/n's room was cosy and welcoming. Harry felt his eyes droop at the sight. A tiny lamp shining over them in an orange glow, her cot-like bed covered in blankets and the scent of her likely covering those sheets.

That night they slept in Y/n’s twin bed, cuddling, with Stevie Nicks serenading them to sleep. Cheeks plump and pink from too much alcohol, hands wandering scandalously, and the love in air was thick and obvious.

Before Y/n fell asleep she pecked his lips, in a quick kiss, one that it barely even touched him and said, “Night, mate,”

His lips burned like wildfire, and from that night on, he did think humanity had a chance if it was up to them. Whether or not she believed that.

“Night, Love.”

i have been a bit slack with updates lately...second year of uni is crazy and im already soooo busy, but i missed them and i wanted to write a lil sum for y'all until my next proper update :) BIG LOVEEEE

#nostringsattachedblurbs #nostringsattachedseriesbylilystyles #harry styles #harry styles smut #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles angst #harry styles x reader smut #lilystyles #harrystylesseries #childhood best friend to strangers to fwb to lovers #nostrings!H #blurb #longhairharry #my love #them

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addisonnie · 2 years ago

Text

you, me, & mary-jane

summary: dealer!ellie comes in clutch in more ways than one.

warnings: make-out sesh, cursing, terrible breaking bad references

a/n: surprise! another ellie fic because i refuse to do the schoolwork that i desperately need to finish! wooooooooo dealer ellie is yum. i actually kinda hate this! enjoy! oh god also listen to “meddle about” by chase atlantic while you read if you would like. ellie=chase atlantic okay bye

part 2 —> part 3

There are several things in life that you can live without. Weed is not one of them.

You’re huffing and borderline growling as you dig through various stash locations in your room. Closet, empty. Under the mattress, nothing but crumbs. In every single pants pocket? Zero. Zilch. Not one lush green nug was found.

What could be chalked up to a literal war cry left your lips as you sat on the floor with your head in your hands, “this is it. This is the end.”

Dina’s head poked up from the side of her bed, “what are you whining about down there?”

Leaning your head back onto the wall, you sent Dina a harsh glare, “you and Jesse smoked the last of it! And I’m flat broke, too!”

She sat up fully in her bed, eyes wide and crazy, “bitch! Don’t pin this on us! You said it was fine.”

“That was last night! This is today! Today I just want to smoke my silly little bowl and enjoy my silly little high.” You groan and knock your head against the wall a few times.

Fishing your phone from your back pocket, you open iMessage. Hopefully your plug isn’t busy right now. Last time you bought from him was in the parking lot of his youngest child’s soccer game. Maybe buying from a 40-something father of three isn’t always the best idea—at least he won’t rip you off?

Hey. You busy?

Tom usually responds right away. His clients doubled as his friends (you being his ex-babysitter) and he always loved to provide for them.

Who is this?

Well, that’s strange. Tom definitely has your number saved. And, Tom definitely knows who you are.

Don’t play, Tom. I want to buy!!!!

You watch the text bubbles pop up and disappear in the bottom corner of the screen a few times, showing that he’s typing out a response and deleting it over and over.

This is his wife. Don’t text this number again. He is married. And he does not sell what you want to “buy.”

You could really cry at this moment. Like, honestly and truly sob. A long huff leaves your lips and you knuckle at your eyes aggressively. Fucking bullshit. Tom’s wife was always kind of a bitch, to be fair. But you didn’t think she’d ever pull a Skylar White on you. What does a girl have to do to get some weed around here?

“Do you know any other dealers? I just got told off by Tom’s wife.” Dina laughed from her bed.

“My name is Skylar White, yo. My husband is Walter White, yo.” You couldn’t help but laugh, “that’s exactly what I was thinking!”

She sits up in her bed, hanging her tanned legs off the side, “here. I have mutual friends with this girl, think her name is Ellie? I heard she sells. Good prices too.”

Dina tosses her phone into your lap from where she sits and allows you to send the contact to yourself.

Hey. Is this Ellie?

———

Ellie takes a couple hours before responding.

It depends on who’s asking?

Your professor drones on about some random Shakespeare play and you can’t bring yourself to pay attention while you read over Ellie’s text.

Dina gave me your number, I heard you sell?

Man. I really hope you’re not a cop.

You chuckle at her text.

Not a cop. Twenty year old girl over here. I love One Direction.

That sounds like something an undercover cop would say.

Ellie made a good point. You scroll through your camera roll trying to find a recent selfie before landing on one you took a couple days ago. You’re clearly high in the picture, so maybe Ellie will take the hint.

Here. Proof. Not a cop :)

Pretty.

She sent her address in a separate text and informs you to meet her there around 7pm when she’s done with her night class. Your professor excuses the class and leaves the remainder of students to pack their things. 5pm. Usually you smoke before going to pick up. Clearly, that’s not an option today. What does one do while they wait if they have no weed?

———

Nothing. One does absolutely nothing if they have no weed.

You knock on Ellie’s front door and wait a few beats before stepping back from the doorway. The lock clicks before the dingy wooden door opens inward,

“Hey!”

Oh, damn. She is fine.

Her auburn hair is short and rests about an inch above her shoulders. It’s pulled slightly up into a bun and several short strands curl lightly along the nape of her neck.

“Hey! Ellie, right?”

She smiles, “that’s me.” The door is pulled open wider and she beckons you to come inside. A botanical tattoo swirls along her forearm and you find yourself staring at her awkwardly before you step into the house.

She tugs off her flannel and slings it over the back of a woven couch, leaving her in a fitted white tank top.

You suck in a breath, “how are you?”

How are you? Really? Who says that to a drug dealer?

She chuckles and slouches into the couch, patting the open spot beside her, “pretty good. How about you?”

“Honestly? I’m suffering.”

She laughs fully this time, “that bad, huh? Your dealer die or something?”

“God, I wish. His wife responded to my text and told me to fuck off, basically. That he doesn’t sell what I buy.” Ellie cringes and shakes her head, her lips pressed into a tight frown,

“she Skylar-Whited you? That’s pretty fucking rough.”

“That’s exactly what I said! Call me Jesse Pinkman, I guess.” Ellie shook her head again and leaned forward to grab a small mahogany box.

Her long fingers opened the lid and scrounged through the container before she happily hummed and held up what she was looking for. A joint was pressed between her fingers and she quickly snatched a lighter off the coffee table.

After she placed the box back on the table, she leaned back into the couch and stretched her arm along the back of it, her fingers barely grazing your shoulder. Ellie turned to face you and held the joint to your lips, “open up.”

Your face flushes as you do what she asked—demanded. Her fingers place the joint onto your awaiting lips and she quickly lights the paper, still holding the joint to your mouth.

What is this girl on? You can’t help but feel as if this is strangely intimate. Tom never held a joint to your lips! On second thought, it’s probably good that he didn’t.

You inhale and she pulls the joint to meet her own mouth as she watches you exhale.

“We can smoke this and then I’ll grind up some for you.” She passes you the joint this time.

“Oh—you don’t have to. I can take the nugs. I don’t want to trouble you.” You pass it back.

She smirks, the joint hanging from the side of her mouth, “no trouble at all. Happy to do it.”

“Is that what you tell all of your clients?”

Another smirk, “only the pretty ones.”

The joint is placed back into your fingertips and you are very glad, this way you can explain the extreme blush creeping up onto your cheeks as just you being overly high. Ellie has somehow moved closer to you, her thigh is pressed up against yours and the arm she has outstretched across the back of the couch skims the back of your shoulders. A chill rakes through your body, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

“Here, take it.” The hand she has resting behind your head snatches her discarded flannel and drops it into your lap.

“Oh—thanks.” She hums in response.

———

Ellis is funny as hell. Each sentence that escapes her plump lips makes less sense than the last,

“would you rather be trapped in a locked room with a gorilla, or with…with a shit ton of cockroaches?”

She’s sitting opposite you on the couch, her back leaning against one armrest. One of her legs is bent and squished against the back of the couch, her other is sprawled off the edge of the couch. Bit of a man-spreader, this one. Your back is pressed to the opposite arm rest and your legs are stretched outward, resting softly in her lap.

Again, weirdly intimate.

“Oh. Fuck, probably the roaches? Just step on ‘em. Yanno?”

She gasps and latches onto your sock-clad feet, “sickening! Me and that gorilla are gonna be friends.”

You squint at her, “you gonna sell him some Mary-Jane?”

“Yup,” she pops the ‘p’ and passes you the remainder of the joint. Your fingers skim over hers and she blushes a bit, nudging your finger with hers.

“Hey—so how much do I owe you?” You immediately regret ruining the moment the second the words pass your lips.

“Well, flattery works with me—“ you cut her off, “oh yeah? I would’ve kissed you earlier, had I known that.”

She flushes, “you can—um. You can still kiss me. If you want.”

And, just like that, your eyes turn into hearts and start beating rapidly. You surge forward and press your lips to hers, smiling into the kiss when she flicks the joint out of her fingertips and grabs your cheeks, pulling you closer.

Her mouth melds to yours and immediately has you panting like a bitch in heat. She moves one of her hands to pinch at your hip, grasping and probing at you until you wind up straddling her lap. You press your chest into hers and squeak when you feel her hand push your hip down, effectively grinding you down onto her. A strangled whine leaves your lips as she pulls away and begins kissing down the column of your throat.

Her mouth is wet and firm while she sucks and nips on any naked skin she can find, moaning when she feels your fingers card through her hair. Your hips continually rut into hers and she quickly sets a different pace, gripping your hips and dragging you forward and back on her lap. Ellie moans when you grab her hair and pull. Her face is removed from your neck at the force of your tug and she pants to catch her breath before opening her eyes to meet yours.

“How’s free sound?” She gives you a crooked smirk and presses an open-mouthed kiss to your throat.

“Sounds like I’m ripping you off, Ellie.”

She groans and throws her head back onto the couch, “I love the way you say my name. And it’s not ripping me off, babe.”

And you’re blushing again. Babe. She called you babe.

She continues, “think of it as a little sampler. Free shared joint, some ground up weed, and some Ellie.”

You grab her cheeks and squish them together, “only if you swear this sampler is offered to me only. Can’t have anyone stealing my deals.”

She brushes your hands off and smirks again, “like I said earlier, pretty girls only.”

“You said ‘girls’ plural.” She laughs.

“I’ve got three clients. A grown man named Joel, one of the sociology professors—don’t tell anyone I said that. Then you. And I’m a lesbian, so…” She trails off at the end of her sentence and looks down at your lips again, hands splayed across your thighs.

You kiss her again. It’s short and chaste and it leaves Ellie chasing your lips for just one more. Two more. Three. How’s five sound?

She presses kisses to your puckered lips over and over, “all,” kiss, “the weed,” kiss, “you can,” kiss, “dream of.”

Ellie finally pulls away to fully look at you, “I mean it. You can have all the weed you want if you keep kissing me like that.”

————

When you finally clamber off of her lap and detach her hands from your hips it’s almost one in the morning. She sighs while she watches you stuff your ‘goody bag’ into your purse, slipping your shoes back on. Her fingers beckon you back to the couch and she taps your right leg until you bend it and rest your foot on top of her thigh. You were planning on walking home with your shoes untied, but Ellie’s nimble fingers quickly double knot each of your shoes; She presses a kiss to each of your knees before letting them straighten back out.

Her hands find your hips again—shocker— while she walks you to the front door. A kiss is pressed to your lips one last time and she gives you a firm squeeze when you lean in to hug her.

“Come back soon. Fuck that guy, I’m your new dealer for life.” You smile and step outside, “okay.”

She definitely tied your shoes too tight and you make a mental note to fix it when you’re out of her eyesight. As you’re walking down the sidewalk that leads you to campus she calls your name,

“Get home safe, yeah? Text me when you’re back!”

You will definitely text her.

#wooooo #ellie williams #ellie williams x you #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x y/n #ellie x reader #tlou #ellie tlou

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mirrorbvllhoon · 3 months ago

Text

COFFEE: 300 takeout coffees later

Masterlist

Cafe owner!reader x idol!Sunghoon

a/n: I just recently recovered from covid and could gather enough strength to write this chapter, I'm in the middle of exams (since here in Mexico it's already exam season, at least in my college) Hopefully I'll start to upload the next of the chapters weekly.

Hope that you enjoy !

WC: 2.1 k

You found yourself cleaning the café, it was close to midnight but after a tiring weekend there were a lot of things left to do and the rest of the employees had to leave early for different circumstances, leaving you alone.

After mopping the floors and washing the dishes ,you debated yourself between finishing the dough for the cookies or preparing the tiramisú for the next morning, your eyes fluttering wishing to be shut, telling you to go to sleep yet there you were in the middle of the café staring at the mirrors that adorned the place, your eyes looking tired and in the midst of your tiredness you heard the bell ring, you forgot to lock the door…again.

“We’re closed we will open tomorrow at 10 am…”, your voice had a shade of irritation in it

“I know, I just… I forgot something”, the familiar voice answered, it was Sunghoon again, however, you had cleaned the place already and hadn’t seen anything, either way you nodded and allowed him to roam all over the place.

Time was ticking so you decided to finish the cookie dough and finish the tiramisú that would be served the next morning, and after you left everything inside the fridge, Sunghoon was standing in the door frame.

“I already found it”, he said shyly, you nodded in response waiting for him to leave, “Is that tiramisú?”, He asked, seeing the small portions served the leftovers that you often saved for you and the other employees that decided to stay after the closing hours, however that weekend it was only you, and the boy in the doorframe with the puppy eyes and moles adorning his face.

“Yes, do you want some?” you asked, seeing the shyness in his eyes but the small smile in his lips you continued, “I usually save two portions to eat after we’re done cleaning after closing, but today the rest of the employees had to leave early, so… you can have the portion if you want to… on the house of course” you said, your voice was now filled with a hint of sadness and tiredness but Sunghoon could trace a small hint of sincerity in your words, so he accepted the tiramisú portion.

“If you want to leave since it’s already late I can put it inside a “to-go” container”

“I actually want to stay, if you’re okay with that”

After the long day you debated yourself on what to answer, “I actually need to close, so if you want we can eat it in my house, it’s around the corner… like literally around the corner…”

“You live in those departments?” he asked, signaling the ones that looked across the window of the cafeteria, you nodded once again, arranging the portions of tiramisú inside a to-go box.

“I mean I barely know you… you don’t even know my name… I shouldn’t have said that” you tried saying, recognizing how stupid you had sounded just a few seconds ago.

You knew his name, but you decided to ignore that fact, not wanting to creep him out at the moment or in any upcoming moment, “I’m Sunghoon” he said finally.

“I’m y/n”, you answered and he smiled.

“Well then I think I can say yes to the offer”, he answered, unsure of why he had agreed as easily, maybe there was something in you that surprised him, maybe that’s why he had came back to the cafe in the middle of the night, inventing a stupid excuse of a lie to see you again, hoping that you hadn’t seen through the facade.

You smiled once again, and after taking the container and your bag, you closed the cafeteria and guided him to your department. The cozy interior welcomed the both of you and although you wished for it to be tidier than it was, you couldn’t blame yourself… The weekend had ruined your sleep schedule completely, not allowing you to clean or to sleep properly as a matter of fact, yet now you were sitting in front of Sunghoon who ate the tiramisú as if it was the best thing left on earth.

“It’s really good…” he said, you giggled for some seconds, “I think I need to eat this everyday”

“Well, at least now you know where to find it”

The time passed and you hadn’t even noticed the second you fell asleep on your own chair and table, in your own department, but your already-too-tired eyes decided not to open anymore, what a surprise when you woke up, thanks to you alarm, in your bed, tucked and covered with your blanket and hugging a pillow, and just when you were about to walk to the bathroom, a smell hit your nostrils, fresh coffee.

You decide to step into the kitchen, seeing Sunghoon preparing an espresso in your own machine.

“Good Morning”, he said, as if staying there the whole night was normal and mundane, as if you were already close friends who stayed in each other's departments because of the already built trust, but you weren’t, you had barely known him and neither did he know you.

“You stayed?”, you asked, confusion lingering on your face, your brows joined together as if skimming for an answer that was so oblivious you hadn’t noticed it.

He nodded, “You fell asleep and I decided to take you to your bed, and then I fell asleep on your couch, hope that you don’t mind”, you turned to see the couch covered in a thin throw blanket, his skin filled with goosebumps every second that passed, of course he was cold, “Then I decided to prepare you coffee as a “thank-you” for me staying over”

You found him and his actions cute, but you could notice how cold he was and that was stressing you a little, you decided to grab him a wearable blanket, one that resembled a hoodie, and handed it to him, telling him you would finish preparing the coffee and some breakfast, before the two of you could depart, you to your cafeteria and him, to wherever ídols like him go.

“Don't you have other places to be? I don't mind you leaving at all”, you said, hoping that your voice sounded concerned and not rude.

“No, we ended the comeback promotions yesterday and we have this week as a kind of vacation”, he answered, and while your reminisced your busy weekend you do remember seeing one of those promotions on the TV screen, and now that very man was in front of you,

You nodded your head slightly, “What would you like for breakfast? I can make you eggs benedict or if you want something sweeter… pancakes or waffles…”

“Anything goes well”, he said and smiled once again, his eyes turning upwards as if resembling a smile and his mouth peaked his fangs.

Since you liked having a salty breakfast you prepared the eggs benedict, however you decided to prepare him some pieces of pancakes so he could have them with his coffee.

“So… Do you enjoy working at the café?”, Sunghoon asked, his voice lacing over the kitchen sounds of the eggs breaking.

“Yes, It can be tiring but I really enjoy it, that was my dream after all…”, you answered while opening the fridge and taking a pack of salmon and milk out.

“To work at a café?”, he asked while you whisked the sauce for the eggs

“To own a café”, you said and he chuckled, changing the atmosphere of the place as you flipped the pancakes and took out two plates to serve the breakfast.

“Do you want the coffee prepared as the one from the last time?”, you asked, preparing your own cup of coffee while waiting for his answer.

He nodded, so you took out the vanilla syrup and prepared him an iced latte before sitting in front of him.

“Do you enjoy being a singer?”, you asked in order to break the ice.

“I do, it can be tiring but I feel like my friends also help me overcome all of this, and then performing in front of the fans it’s also amazing…”

“And did you always want to become an idol?”

“No, I actually wanted to be a figure skater, but then I just fell in love with the music and dancing… all of it, and now… here I am”

“I used to dance when I was a kid, but I broke my ankle and haven’t tried since… then after all those College years of drinking coffee I kind of loved all the process behind it and here I am now ” you said while taking a sip of your iced americano.

“College years? what did you study?”

“Linguistics and phonetics… but I no longer work in that area, not since the café”, you said once again, taking a bite of the eggs, “You should eat otherwise it will get cold”

He chuckled at your comment and started to eat the food in front of him until there were just hues of the sauce and small residues on the plates that would be thrown in the dishwasher alongside the cups in a few moments.

“It was nice being here”, he said after some seconds, “Hopefully we can talk again, I enjoyed your company”

“I can say the same about you”, you say before guiding him through the door.

“Hope to see you later y/n”

You smiled before closing the door once he left into the empty corridor, and you went back to prepare for the day ahead.

₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿ ☕︎‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚

The time flew by, and before you could notice it was already noon, the day had gone by pacific, with only a few people stopping by to grab a coffee and have a small chatter, and with some high-schoolers grabbing a coffee milk and bun before their day went by, since your store was relatively unknown you barely had delivery orders, and they were even less unusual during mondays, your coworker could see the surprise in your face when a notification rang through the computer.

4 latte

/ 1 add on vanilla syrup

2 Americano

1 lavender taro

1 tiramisú

2 coffee buns

1 almond matcha croissant

1 choco-mint muffin

Total: ₩ 40,500

Tip: ₩. 40,500

“Hey… come and look at this…” you told the worker next to you, “Since when do we receive such large tips?”

“Are you sure the system isn’t glitching?” she asked you, refreshing the page on the computer, but the same balance appeared over and over again, “Maybe… we should send a message to the buyer… just to make sure”

I nod my hair, not believing the screen in front of my eyes, I tap the message option and send a quick message.

“Hi, thanks for your purchase, just to make sure… on our system it appears that you left a 40,500 tip on the purchase you made… is that correct?”

“Yes” was the only answer that appeared under the message you sent, and without thinking about it twice, you started to prepare the beverages and the pastries, waiting for the rider to arrive and pick the food to deliver.

The day continued as boring as a monday could be… and then the day ended before you could even notice you were home, cleaning and organizing the mess of a department you called home.

And then Tuesday arrived, and not even an hour had passed since you opened the café. You had a delivery order, this time two elements but a huge tip, the same as the day before.

1 Latte

/ 1 add on vanilla syrup

1 Tiramisú

Total: ₩ 9400

Tip: ₩ 40,500

On Tuesdays you worked alone, since it was the slowest day of the week for the café, and the same thing as the day before happened, you prepared the order and it got delivered, not a busy day…you went home at nine sharp and had eight hours of sleep a luxury you hadn’t had in a long time.

Weeks went by and there was not a single day that went by were you didn’t receive a delivery order that contained a vanilla latte, sometimes iced others hot, paired with a tiramisú and a tip of ₩ 40,500.

You were oblivious as to who could be ordering the same thing over and over, for almost a month, until you went home during that chilly october evening, missing your favorite wearable blanket, an accessory you wore on days like this, but after searching for every part of your department you couldn’t find it… because you didn’t have it anymore, it hit you like the rain falling to the pavement, like the sound of lightning.

Sunghoon.

#enhypen au #mirrorbvllhoon #enhypen #enhypen scenarios #enhypen fluff #sunghoon #sunghoon imagines #sunghoon x reader

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