#my best friend came to visit from across state

[artdcnaldson]

changeover || art donaldson x reader ; patrick zweig x reader

Rating: Explicit (18+)

Word Count: 7.2k

Warnings: SMUT (p in v sex x2, fingering, f!recieving oral), drinking, pining after people you can’t have, a dash of reader x tashi, sprinkles of patrick x art, porn WITH plot

Summary: your ‘casual’ fling with art isn’t working for you anymore, which sucks because you probably love the guy. enter a freshly heartbroken patrick to take your mind off of things.

FALL 2006

You knew exactly why Art Donaldson refused to acknowledge that you were an item. You could see it clearly across the room— the way you were cast to the shadows while he followed Tashi around like a lost puppy.  

It made sense, even if it made your chest ache. Tashi was gorgeous, and was acing her classes, and was going to go pro soon and become a beautiful, all-American sports icon. And you were just some girl he’d met because he needed help understanding the reading for class. 

You’d known each other for months by then— hooking up, going on dates that ‘weren’t dates,’ spending most of your time together. And you stayed firmly in the no-labels zone. But you weren’t bitter. It was totally fine, being treated like a girlfriend in all but name. 

Art laughed and leaned into Tashi. It was totally fine.

You were nursing a beer in a red solo cup and trying your best to look friendly and approachable. The only reason you were even at the party was because Art had brought you, so you should’ve felt grateful. You should’ve been having fun.

But just as soon as you’d arrived, he’d slipped away with a promise to be right back. It had been over an hour, so it seemed like you had very different definitions of right back.

“Looks like your boyfriend stole my girlfriend.” You turned to see Patrick, tanned from his time on tour. He was only going to be at Stanford for the weekend before taking off for a challenger a state over, which meant he needed to capitalize on any chance to spend time with Art and Tashi. 

Unfortunately, you’d both been ditched.

“Art isn’t my boyfriend,” you said pointedly, maybe a little too quickly. 

Patrick knew better. The last time he came to visit, he’d interrupted a pseudo date night between the two of you (which was a nice way of saying he walked in on the two of you in Art’s dorm while his best friend was was knuckles deep in you). The rest of that night wound up being spent passing around mixed drinks made with cheap vodka and whatever you could get from the nearest vending machine. You overheard the it’s casual, nothing serious conversation they’d had through the ajar door while you bought more Powerade and Red Bull in the hall. 

But you were being so understanding and cool about that. 

Patrick narrowed his eyes slightly. “Really?” The corner of his mouth tugged upwards for a moment before he wrapped his lips around a beer can. He tried to hide it, but you saw. 

You chewed on your lip, stomach twisting with nerves and curiosity. He was probably just messing with you, trying to get your thoughts all muddled up about Art because it was fun. Still, you couldn’t help but ask the burning question echoing through your mind. “Did Art say something to you? About us, I mean.”

The question felt pathetic. A stupid, desperate girl begging to know if the guy she liked felt the same way. 

Patrick shrugged, leaning against the wall bearing the portraits of the ghosts of frat brothers’ past. “Not directly. But you’re here together, right? And he’s still seeing you.”

“I guess,” you replied with a huff, embarrassment burning hot in your chest. 

“If you’re worried about Tashi, don’t be,” Patrick said, sparing a glance in her direction. When you looked towards Art, and the way he was smiling and laughing and looked so natural beside her, a frown turned your lips. Patrick nudged your arm and offered a smile. “Hey, I’m serious. Nothing’s gonna happen there. Trust me.”

It should’ve felt nice. A total reassurance from the person who knew Art best. But it did nothing to quell the turmoil twisting in the pit of your stomach. Because if he really did feel that way, why was he over there with her?

Tashi Duncan. So beautiful, radiant, and perfect that she had total control over two men. Your paths didn’t cross much, outside of Art, and that was rare since he liked to keep you two apart. 

But there was a part of you that knew that Tashi would’ve been able to make you melt with one look, one smile, one word. You wanted to experience what Art did. You wanted to know what Patrick knew, and what Art was jealous of. Or maybe you wanted something of your own too, something to keep Art out of. 

“I need another drink,” you said suddenly, meeting Patrick’s gaze. “Do you wanna come with me?” Patrick’s eyes flitted quickly towards Tashi, where she bantered with Art and the rest of the tennis team. 

There was something in his expression you found incredibly familiar. That pang of jealousy. The ache of not belonging just right. The look was gone quickly, replaced by a toothy smile. “Sure. I could use something stronger.”

——

An hour later, Tashi left with Patrick, and Art quickly decided to take you back to his own dorm. 

His lips were insistent against yours, kissing you hungrily, completely dissonant to the delicate way he tugged down the zipper of your dress. His fingers were warm where they brushed along the line of your spine. His tongue brushed against yours, tasting of beer and mint gum.

“What were you doing with him?” He murmured against your lips just as he peeled off the cheap, bodycon dress you’d gotten from Forever 21. It was tossed across the room, to be lost in the mess of practice duffles and empty water bottles and dirty laundry. The only time he parted his lips from you was to lift you onto his bed and slot himself between your thighs. 

His tongue licked into your mouth possessively, claiming you as his from the inside out. You gasped as one of his hands kneaded your breast, panting open-mouthed against his lips. “Who?” You managed weakly, your mind completely blank except for Art, Art, Art. And maybe a tiny voice in the back of your head that was still thinking about the Tashi of it all.

“Patrick.” His voice was soft against the tender skin of your jaw. “I saw you two talk, then you disappeared for, like, an hour.” His teeth nipped gently at your pulse point as he nuzzled against your throat, awaiting your answer. 

So he had been watching? He was with her, but he was still thinking about you. It made your heart flutter. You moaned softly as his hand slid between your thighs, teasing you through your panties. “Getting drinks,” you managed feebly. “Fuck, Art, I can’t concentrate while y—“

You gasped at the feeling of his fingers slipping beneath the band of your panties, teasing you with delicate touches. “Just drinks? For an hour?”

A strangled gasp escaped you as fingers slick with your arousal met your clit. When your eyes opened in surprise, you found Art staring right back. His touch was relentless, flooding your senses with pleasure as he demanded an answer. “We were in the living room,” you managed between soft pants and moans. “He was telling me about the— god— about the tour.”

Art’s expression flickered slightly— a tiny furrow forming between his brows. Was it doubt, or possessiveness, or anger? Before you could figure it out, his lips were against your throat, your panties were pushed to the side, and he was easing two fingers inside of your cunt.

“Fuck,” you cried out, grasping onto his shoulders. French manicured nails scratched at the pastel-colored polo he wore— why was he still wearing his clothes? Soft, keening moans slipped past your lips as he fucked you with his fingers. Every thought of him preferring Tashi or him leading you on slipped from the front of your mind as his thumb rubbed at your clit.

With a free hand, you palmed him over his pants, relishing in the way he panted against your warm skin. You made quick work of the button of his jeans— you knew your way around him like the back of your hand. He was warm, pulsing in your delicate grip when your hand slipped beneath the band of his briefs. Slick at his tip with need. 

He moaned against your pulse point, nuzzling against you as you began to jerk him off in time with each pump of his fingers. 

“You smell like him,” he groaned, nose pressed to the spot just beneath your ear as his hips bucked into your fist with a new sort of desperation. You didn’t have to ask who he meant. His tongue slipped out, lapping at you briefly before sucking a bruise into the delicate skin there. 

His fingers flexed so they brushed against the sweet spot within you. Your eyes rolled back and a sob of pleasure clawed its way from your throat. “Need you,” you pleaded, equal parts a thoughtless cry and a demand.

And who was he to deny either of you that? A pitiful whine escaped your lips when he slipped his fingers from within you and moved your hand from him. He stood to clumsily pull off the rest of his clothes at the same time that you quickly shimmied off your panties and tossed them to the side.

”You’re so fucking sexy,” he groaned as he joined you back on the bed, slotting himself between your legs. You were so pliant and sweet beneath him, looking up at him with adoring doe-eyes and a pretty smile on your spit-slick lips. He should’ve been perfectly content.

As he parted your thighs, stroking his dick as he lined himself up with your entrance, he wondered if Tashi and Patrick were doing the same exact thing at that same exact moment. He could imagine it clearly— Tashi, splayed out on her bed, and Patrick right at home between her thighs; sinking in, faces contorting with pleasure. Before he could stop himself, a soft moan slipped past his lips at the mental image. 

Your nails dug into his shoulder blades as he sheathed himself within you, and he buried his face into your neck. Fuck. You really did smell like Patrick. The shitty Axe body spray that was supposed to smell like chocolate, and the lingering scent of cigarettes. 

You moaned prettily, pussy squeezing him like a vise. Manicured nails scratched against his back, delicate enough that the marks would probably disappear by that time the next day. He was so used to Patrick lounging shirtless around their hotel rooms after tournaments— severe-looking scratch marks looking like angel wings against his pale skin. He always wore them like a badge of honor the night after he snuck off with some pretty girl he’d set his sights on. That’s how you know you’re doing it right. 

Why was he thinking about Patrick?

He tried to lose himself in you— in how pretty you were beneath him, the sweet words falling from your lips with each thrust. Feels so good, Art. ‘M so close already. Gonna make me cum. 

When he looked down at you, your mouth hung open, lips shiny with spit, begging to be kissed. His mouth met yours messily and you both moaned into the kiss. He moved a hand between your thighs, rubbing at your clit as he bullied his cock into your inviting cunt. 

You came with a string of moans and expletives that made the person next door bang on the wall out of annoyance. Art had to pull out as soon as he felt you start to squeeze around him. All it took was a few clumsy strokes and he was spilling onto your stomach with an almost embarrassing whine. 

You both lay there catching your breath and cursing the shitty air conditioning in the dorm. He wiped the mess of cum off of your stomach with an old tee shirt that was hanging off the side of his desk and tossed it to the side to be dealt with later.

“You’re so gross,” you mumbled with a tiny laugh, reaching down to grab your underwear from your floor. After you pulled them back on, you watched him dig through a pile of clothes in a papasan chair for a passable pair of pajama pants. An amused smile played on your lips at the sight. “Do I need to buy you a hamper?”

He held up a pair of pajama pants to examine them, shrugged, and pulled them on. “I have one, it’s just full.” A boyish grin spread across his lips as he crossed the room towards his dresser. He tossed a random tee shirt from the drawer in your direction and climbed on the bed, grinning down at you. “See? I have clean clothes.”

You laughed as you pulled the shirt over your head, then turned on your side to face him. His eyes flickered from your face, down to the shirt, then back. You wrinkled your face in confusion and peered down at the shirt. 

“What? What does it say?” You asked with a laugh.  You held it out, squinting to make sense of the graphic— faded and upside down. Finally, your eyes lit up in recognition. “Oh! I thought you were more of a Maroon 5 and Justin Timberlake guy. I’ve never even seen a Blink-182 CD in your stuff before.”

Art cleared his throat and shrugged, thumbing the bottom of the tee shirt absentmindedly. “I went with Patrick a few years back.”

A smile turned your lips. “It’s sweet that you two are such good friends.” You reached over, brushing his curls from his forehead. He turned, pressing a kiss to the delicate skin of your wrist. “Did you and Tashi have fun tonight?” The insecurity in your words was palpable.

Art shrugged. “A party’s a party, y’know?” He leaned into your touch, letting you play with his hair. “Just lost track of time. I won’t run off on you next time.”

You chewed your lip shyly. “I think it’d be nice for the three of us to hang out sometime,” you said, watching his expression to gauge his reaction. 

“C’mere,” he said with a tired smile, effectively avoiding your suggestion. When he pulled you against his side, he nuzzled his face into the junction of your neck and shoulder. His breath tickled with each exhale, which made you squirm, but every so often he’d place a chaste kiss on the skin there and you’d forget why you wanted to ask him to move.

In the morning, when you woke up to his alarm clock blaring a local radio station, you realized it was the first time he’d let you stay the night. 

SPRING 2007

After your second drink, you decided that Art Donaldson had hung you out to dry for the last time. Well, probably the last time. 

Most likely not the last time. 

Knowing yourself, you’d be clinging to his side like a lost puppy in a few weeks’ time, if you even had the dignity to give it that long. The second his attention turned to you again, you knew you’d be absolutely relishing in the special affection he always gave you when he was experiencing Tashi-related withdrawal.

You were so stupidly in love (or in lust, or in whatever) with him that you’d accept just about anything he could throw at you. 

No labels, just casual? Fine. Ignoring you all night then conveniently remembering you exist when he’s horny and ready to go back to his dorm? Whatever. You’re game. 

You’d gone to every match, watched a few practices. Helped him study for exams, let him borrow the notecards you’d painstakingly written over the course of the semester. Jesus, you even wrote a few essays for him when his schedule got crowded and he just couldn’t manage.

All you asked in return was a date to a stupid formal, and he ditched you last minute for Tashi. Again. And you couldn’t even get pissed about it without feeling guilty, because she’d fucking gotten injured and it wasn’t her fault that the guy you were into was carrying a torch for her instead.

“You’ve been staring down the Reese’s Pieces for the last five minutes.” The familiar voice startled you from your sulking. The world filtered back in suddenly— the blaring music, the smell of cigarettes and pot, the chatter of people wandering in and out of neighboring dorms. When you turned, Patrick Zweig was leaning against the vending machine beside you, carrying a large Tennis bag and backpack on both of his shoulders. “Do you need five bucks?”

“Shouldn’t you be with Tashi?” You asked, brows furrowed with confusion. “I heard about her match. I just figured that you’d…“ You trailed off as you noticed the thinly veiled kicked-puppy expression he wore. “Oh.”

He swallowed and nodded. “Yeah, that’s… it’s over. Did you want the Reese’s, or not?” 

“No,” you shook your head and laughed. “I just needed…” you trailed off. What was it you needed, again?

You needed Art. A date to the formal. You needed to feel desirable and cared for. You needed him to get his head out of his ass and just fucking commit. You needed to tell Art to fuck off and find another groupie. You needed…

“Another drink?” Patrick suggested.

You nodded eagerly like that’s what you’d been thinking all along. “Yes. Another drink.” You paused, glancing at his bags. “Do you want to drop your things in my room first? My roommate is in Iowa, or something. She won’t mind.”

Your dorm was decorated in shades of pink and green, with a ruffled bedspread and faux fur pillows and blankets. You bent down to retrieve two bottles of Smirnoff Ice from a mini fridge. Patrick did his best to look away like a gentleman would. 

Well, he did his best. It wasn’t exactly his fault that his options were to look at your tight jeans or the bulletin board above your desk that was essentially an Art Donaldson shrine. 

Pretty pink push pins held up a photo of the two of you after one of his matches, both beaming at the camera. Then there were little notes he’d written you in his boyish scrawl. Tickets to movies you’d gone to see and tickets to his matches. 

“Here,” you said, drawing his attention back to you, thankfully in an upright position. You’d already popped the bottle caps off the radioactive blue drink you handed him. You were chewing your lip shyly, sweetly. “It’s kind of pathetic, isn’t it?”

“What?” He took a drink and nearly grimaced at the sweetness. After he finished it, he’d need to go find something stronger.

You sighed and took a long drink yourself. “I dunno, the whole… thing. Art.” You absentmindedly toyed with the hem of your shirt. “I mean, what girl with any self-respect lets a guy just screw her for months with no commitment?”

“Maybe self-respect is overrated.” He laughed and stepped closer. “Full disclosure? I only came here hoping that I could fuck someone and spend the night in their dorm. Free booze was a plus.”

“We’re in the same boat then,” You said, gazing up at him through your lashes. “We’re both jilted lovers who need a distraction.”

You tilted the bottom of the bottle up, chugging down the contents. When you were done, you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand and rolled your neck out. “Bottoms up,” you said with a coy smile. “Let’s find something stronger.”

——

An hour later, something by the Pussycat Dolls was blaring through a set of speakers in a darkened common area. You were the fun kind of tipsy, where you started to care less about everyone else and just found yourself buzzed in that light, easy kind of way. You danced to the beat without a care in the world while Patrick sat on the arm of a couch and nursed his beer. 

His eyes were glued to your body as you moved, almost hypnotic beneath the red Christmas lights that had been stapled around the ceiling. Your shirt had ridden up, revealing a sliver of stomach that you either didn’t notice or didn’t care to cover up. 

The only thought running through his head? Art was a fucking idiot. 

You glanced over at him and nodded for him to join you. He didn’t move, so, not one to give up, you joined him over on the couch. When he went for a drink, you tipped up the bottom of the beer can and forced him to finish it, even as it spilled past his lips and down his chin. 

“Thanks,” he deadpanned, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand. 

With a pleased smile, you grabbed his wrist and pulled him into the middle of the room to dance.

He shook his head as you tried to make him dance— your hands on his hips, pushing and pulling and trying and failing to make him move. “No, no. I don’t dance,” he explained, as firmly as he could stand to be.

“Because you can’t? Or because you think you’re too cool?” You asked, raising a brow. He rolled his eyes, a smile playing at his lips. “C’mon, if you dance, I’ll tell you a secret.”

That did make him laugh. “What are you, five?”

With a shrug, you took his hands into yours and moved them to your hips. There was a hesitance in his touch, at first. But then his fingers splayed against exposed skin, and you were so warm. Your hips began moving to the beat beneath his hands. “See? We’re dancing,” you said, peering up at him through long lashes.

You looked genuinely victorious when he finally started dancing… kind of. It was less of an action and more of an acceptance. It had been abundantly obvious since the moment he walked into your dorm room that you wanted to end the night with him. Maybe it was because you thought it would hurt Art, or maybe it was because he was there and he was feeling the exact same things you were.

He’d done his best to resist out of some lingering sense that he could repair things with Tashi, and the hope that maybe Art’s spite would fade and they’d be friends again.

Despite skipping the whole college thing, Patrick wasn’t an idiot. He knew better. The second Tashi fell on that court, both of those doors slammed in his face.

And you were so close to him that he could smell the liquor on your breath. And Victoria’s Secret body spray. Mostly the liquor, though. He was barely moving, but you— you were something else. Hips moving against the thigh he’d slotted between your legs, arms trailing up his chest so you could sling them around his neck, pulling yourself impossibly closer. Even though you were grinding against each other like two horny middle-schoolers at their first dance, he’d had enough to drink that he didn’t really give a fuck. When he moved his hands from your hips to grab your ass, you gasped and laughed like it was the best thing in the world.

Your body moved so effortlessly that anything he could have possibly done would’ve looked clunky and clumsy. He groaned when you brushed against him just right, and he could tell by your smug expression that you knew exactly how you were affecting him. 

You leaned in, chest to chest. “Can I tell you the secret now?” You whispered, lips brushing against the line of his jaw. He swallowed hard and nodded. “I think it’d be a bad idea for us to fuck. We’re both in a bad place.”

“Mhmm. Bad idea,” he echoed. He wanted to reach out and grab your jaw, to tilt your face up and kiss you. One of your hands had slipped beneath the hem of his (Tashi’s) shirt, just barely teasing the skin there. It made him shiver and lean into the heat of your touch.

“But I still want to.” You sounded so earnest, so needy. Like you’d take anything he’d give you and thank him for it. “We can use each other to feel better, right? Just a nice, warm body and a rush of dopamine.”

It was exactly what Patrick had come to the fucking dorm rager for. To feel wanted and desired. For someone to look at him like he wasn’t actively failing at the one thing he was supposed to be the best at. 

But he was good at other things.

You guided him through the crowded hallway, way more packed than they had been before you’d started dancing. It was getting later, more people were falling for the siren song of R&B and beer. You were a siren of a different making— with much more dangerous consequences than a hangover.

It almost felt wrong to be back in your innocent, frilly little dorm with the intention of fucking your brains out. But the looks you were giving him were enough proof that he wasn’t the only pervert. Before you could get too far, he pinned you up against the door, displacing a dry-erase calendar in the process. 

You glanced down, eyes flitting towards the hearts around tomorrow’s date, anticipating the formal that Art had flaked on. Without looking back, you kicked the dry-erase board out of the way, a problem for later. 

His lips met yours in a messy clash— teeth knocking slightly until you found a rhythm with each other. Patrick Zweig kissed like he’d been at war for fucking years and had just returned home. He kissed like he had crawled out of the desert and the only promise of water could be found on your tongue. 

You’d never been kissed with that level of need and desperation— that desire— and you fucking loved it. The taste of his tongue licking into your mouth, the rumble of a moan against your own lips.

His hands were moving beneath your shirt, pushing it up as he went. A pretty whine slipped past your spit-slick lips as he squeezed your tits over your bra. Your hands stayed busy undoing his jeans. He moaned into your mouth when your fingers barely brushed against the bulge through the denim. 

“That feel good?” You teased, practically breathing the words into his lungs as you slipped your hand into his boxers. He groaned in response as your hand wrapped around him and pumped slowly.  There was something addicting about his need— you relished in the pulse of him, warm and bucking into your grip. And you wanted more. You wanted to be the one to make him come undone. “Tell me what you want me to do.”

His head fell back slightly as you brushed your thumb along his tip, the movement accompanied by another soft groan. The way you peered up at him with an earnest need to please made hot desire thrum within him.

“You could start by taking these clothes off,” he said, fingers roaming to tug at the strap of your bra. You started to move, slipping your hand from his boxers. Then you stopped.

“You’re not gonna help?” You asked coyly, goosebumps forming where his fingers trailed along your side, teasing at the band of the bra. 

That made a tiny smirk turn at his lips. “Does Art help?” It shouldn’t have turned him on— that little flash of longing for Art in your eyes. But it did. You nodded, shifting slightly to encourage more of Patrick’s touch. “Lift your arms.”

As easy as anything, you obeyed. No banter, no push and pull for control. It was so different than what he had with Tashi (who he shouldn’t have been thinking about), and he couldn’t help but wonder if that’s how it always was for you and Art (who he shouldn’t have been thinking about either). 

He tossed your shirt to the side and moved a single hand to the clasp of your bra, undoing it with a quick movement that he’d perfected at sixteen. Painstakingly slow, he pushed each strap down your arms, until it fell at your feet and exposed your tits to the overzealous AC of the Stanford dorms. 

Your nipples pebbled in the cool air, and his mouth watered in a near-Pavlovian response to the sight. His hands moved back to your chest, so he could thumb over the sensitive buds and relish in the way you shivered.

The wood of the door was cold against your shoulders as you arched into his touch. Manicured nails fumbled with the button to your jeans— you twisted and shimmied them off before kicking them to the side.

Before you could react, he picked you up and carried you over to the bed. A grin played at your lips as he practically dropped you onto it, making a decorative pillow fall to the floor. 

“It was only, like, five steps,” you said with a laugh. Patrick shrugged and made quick work of his clothes. You sat up on your elbows to watch him shuck off his pants, then awkwardly hop on one foot at a time to remove his shoes and socks.

When he finally joined you on the bed, he was clad only in his boxers, which were sporting an almost comically large tent. He positioned himself over you, that shit-eating grin ever present on his face. “Can I go down on you?”

You laughed lightly in disbelief. “Are you serious right now?”

He nodded. “As a heart attack.” He nuzzled against your jaw teasingly. “C’mon, lemme make you feel good, okay? I live for this shit.”

You giggled, pushing his face away. “Yeah. Fuck. You can.”

He trailed his lips down your jaw, then your sternum. He stopped only briefly to suck each nipple into his mouth, making you squirm and arch into him. Your hand moved into his hair, and he moaned against your tit as you tugged slightly. 

You watched him kiss down your stomach and peel your panties down your legs with his teeth through half-lidded eyes. Your cunt clenched around nothing as he slowly kissed up one leg.

The sight made your stomach flip— the sheer desire of it all. Your mind flickered to Tashi, as it seemed to do more and more. Tashi got this same sight, felt the same lips on her skin, and heard the same groans and pants. You could’ve laughed at the sheer absurdity of it all. At that moment, with Patrick on top of you, you were closer to Tashi than Art could even dream of.

A tap on the inside of your thigh was his wordless way of telling you to open up for him, to get out of your head and come back to earth. Your tummy fluttered as you spread your legs more and he slotted himself there with an arm slung across your stomach. 

“Fuck,” he said lowly, peering up at you. “You get this wet from just kissing?”

Heat burned in your cheeks at his obvious amusement, but you could tell he loved how responsive you were. His tongue traced you from your hole to your clit, making you cry out and twist your fingers into his curls. Quick, teasing flicks against your clit made your thighs tremble and squeeze around his shoulders. You were so fucking sensitive that it made him want to tear you apart.

It was messy— a sloppy mix of his spit and your arousal as he made out with your pussy. His nose brushed against your clit as he nuzzled deeper into you, moaning as his fervor was rewarded with more of your juices spilling onto his tongue. 

There was no method or precision to it, even though you were quite sure he could’ve had you coming undone beneath his fingers in no time at all. Patrick relished in every tiny reaction— in feeling your thighs around his head and your fingers in his hair. Relished in the taste of you on his tongue and the feeling of your slick smeared across his face. 

Your back was arching off the bed, nails digging just shy of painfully into his scalp. 

He opened you up with one finger, then a second. Your cunt accepted the intrusion with ease, like you were made for it. For him. He crooked his fingers just so and you cried out pathetically. He pressed there, constant and firmly and your fingers tugged harder on his hair, moans increasing in pitch as your breaths came in pants. 

“I’m— I— fuck—“ words failed you as his lips formed a seal around your clit and he sucked, making spots dance across your vision. In the absence of words, all you could manage were fucked out sobs and pitiful little whines.

Slick walls fluttered around his fingers, and your clit pulsed against his tongue. You were so easy to get worked up— a toy for him to wind up and set into motion. You came with a moan that would’ve made a weaker man cum inside of his boxers, your cunt spasming around the intrusion of his fingers. 

When he sat back and cleaned his fingers in his mouth, you were watching through half-lidded, hazy eyes. Tiny pieces of hair were plastered to your face and forehead, and you gave a breathless giggle as you looked up at him. 

“Holy shit,” you said with a grin as he shucked off his boxers and kicked them off somewhere across the room. 

“Feel good?” He asked, and pressed a kiss to your hip bone. You nodded wordlessly, feeling dizzy with need. “Gonna give me another one?”

“Yeah,” you said breathlessly, peering up at him with wide eyes. The tip of his nose was shiny with your arousal, which made warmth spread across your cheeks. With a sheepish laugh, you reached up and wiped it away with your thumb. There wasn’t much you could do about the mess on his mouth and chin. “You’re all messy.”

He kissed you slow— leaving his tongue against yours, making you taste yourself mixed with his spit. It was less of a kiss than a series of slow laves of his tongue against yours. It felt dirty, and a little gross, but you couldn’t help but relish in it. You’d never kissed Art like that, would’ve never even dreamed of it. Patrick was an entirely different animal. 

You stayed like that for a while— just completely lost in the feel of him warm on top of you, grinding his cock against your cunt as he planted messy kisses to your lips. 

“Condom?” He mumbled the words against your lips when he finally grew impatient.

“Mhmm. Bedside table.”

He fumbled inside the drawer, grabbing glasses cleaning wipes two seperate times before he finally found a foil packet in the bottom of the drawer.  

He held it between two fingers, an amused smile playing on his lips. “You sure this’ll fit me? I’m bigger than Art.”

You rolled your eyes. “Not by that much.”

“Where it counts, though.” His smirk was smarmy as he tore open the foil with his teeth and rolled the condom down his length. He spat in his hand and stroked himself as he peered down at you, like he hadn’t quite decided how he wanted you yet. 

“Turn over,” he finally said with a pat to the meat of your thigh. You did as he said, almost hesitant as you turned over and settled onto your forearms, arching your back slightly. “Does Art ever fuck you like this?”

He held the head of his cock at your entrance, teasing you with the tiniest amount of pressure. You took in a shaky breath and shifted, eager for more that he wasn’t going to give you yet. “Do you have to bring him up right now?”

No. He knew he really didn’t, but he couldn’t help himself at the same time. The thought of his Art in this same bed with you made it all so much hotter for him. He wanted to know how Art had fucked you, he wanted every detail burned in his brain. He wanted to be better, or maybe just be there with the two of you. 

It had gotten close. Once. Art was definitely fingering you under a blanket while the three of you watched a movie on his laptop across the room. Patrick’s thigh was touching yours— he could feel the way your muscles tensed and shook as Art played with you. He was close enough to hear the hitch of your breath. 

And if that hadn’t been enough to give it away, Art’s stupid fucking smirk and the obvious way his arm was moving would have.

He didn’t do anything then, but maybe he should’ve. 

“I’ll take that as a no.” He was slow as he sank into you, inch by inch. It could’ve been the position, or maybe his cocky bravado was completely founded, but he did feel bigger than you were used to. A soft moan was punched from your lips when he was finally buried to the hilt— your breath came in soft pants as you adjusted to the feeling of him. 

With your face pressed into your pillows, each breath you took flooded your senses with the smell of Art’s cologne. You moaned softly, eyes fluttering shut as your thoughts were overwhelmed with him.

“Shit, you’re fuckin’ tight,” he groaned. His fingers dimpled your skin where he held onto you. He moved one hand to rub the base of your spine in a way that could probably have been tender, on another day. You moaned pathetically into the pillows. “What? You need something?” 

One shallow, teasing thrust made your toes curl. “More,” was all you could manage.

“Can you take it?” Patrick cooed, smugness was practically dripping from his tongue. “Because I can go slow if you need—“

“You’re such an asshole. Just fuck m—”

A rough snap of Patrick’s hips cut you off suddenly. You cried out, grasping onto the bedspread feebly as he began to fuck you in earnest. 

Each thrust made the cheap, university-provided bed frame slam against the wall. The decorations you had hung up rattled, threatening to tumble right onto the floor and shatter, but neither of you even noticed. The moans slipping past your lips were pornographic.

But the sounds escaping you were nothing compared to the noises Patrick was making. Art had made an off-handed comment, once, about how much of a slut Patrick could be. You hadn’t really seen why until you got to hear the desperate, debauched noises he could make.

You slipped a hand between your thighs to rub at your clit and the feeling stole the air from your lungs. Your eyes rolled back, ass jiggling in time with each thrust.

Through it all, the memory of Art in this bed clung to you. Art, burying himself in the soft, wet heat between your thighs, flushed down to his chest and panting softly. His hungry kisses, melting sweet on your tongue like cotton candy. The whines that slipped past his lips, better than the prettiest music you could imagine. 

With each brutal thrust of Patrick’s cock into you, he punched out soft ah, ah, ahs from your lips. In your head, you just heard Art, Art, Art. Maybe that’s what you meant to say. 

You were probably in love with him. You were fucking his best friend. And it wasn’t even that simple. Patrick and Art and Tashi and somewhere between it all, you lingered. It was a giant clusterfuck of feelings and lust that you’d somehow tangled yourself inside of. Wanting someone so much, you want whoever has them just as badly. 

Maybe everything would’ve been a lot cleaner if you’d just locked the four of you into a room and stayed until every bit of tension had been fucked out. The idea of it all made you moan softly into the pillows. 

Patrick pulled you up suddenly, back flush against his chest as he continued to fuck into you. One hand grabbed at your jaw, turning you so he could press his lips to yours again, and the other squeezed at your tits. His mouth did a perfect job of muffling your moans— Patrick relished in feeling your pretty whines vibrate against his lips. 

“You feel so fucking perfect.” His words made heat flutter through you. “Need t’ feel you cum again. You have it in you, yeah? I can feel it.”

You nodded, eager to please. Pleasure was lapping at every nerve, lightning-hot. Your fingers rubbed faster at your clit as he pounded up into you. The whines escaping you were pathetic as your body crawled closer and closer to the edge. 

“Close,” you gasped out. Patrick licked into your open mouth, kissing you sloppily as you set a punishing pace on your poor, oversensitive clit. “So close— f-fuck—“

Your orgasm hit you suddenly. You clawed at his arm with your free hand, desperately seeking purchase as euphoria pulsed through your veins. 

“That’s it,” he groaned, his breath hot against your jaw. “Fuck— squeezin’ me so tight I can barely move— god—“

Your eyes were half-lidded as he worked you through it, rhythm only just beginning to falter as his finish approached. He pushed you back onto your stomach, manhandling your hips so your back was arched just like he wanted. 

You were reduced to whimpers and whines by the time he finally came— buried as deep as he could get, grip bruising on your hips. A few shallow thrusts were all he could manage before he pulled out, collapsing on beside you. 

You were catching your breath while he disposed of the condom in the cute trash can beside your bed, filled with gummy snack wrappers and broken pencils and old class notes. It felt like sacrilege. He laid back down, and you pulled a throw blanket over the two of you. 

With his head against the pillows, you wondered if he could also sense the phantom of Art’s presence there in the bed. Somewhere between you, forcing distance.

“So, when do you leave for your next tournament?” You asked. Unconsciously, you reached out to play with his hair, the same way you did to Art in times like these. “Soon, I bet. You usually don’t stay long.”

“Trying to get rid of me?” He asked, a tiny smile playing at his lips. His chest was still heaving with exertion. 

You shook your head. “I don’t want to get rid of you, Patrick.” He melted into your touch, eyes fluttering shut. 

In the morning, you’d wake up squished against Patrick’s side with the taste of sugary alcohol on your tongue. When you picked up your phone to see three missed calls from Art, it was easier to pretend that you hadn’t seen them at all.

thanks for reading :) if you enjoyed, please lmk by sending an ask, or whatever you wanna do <3

[yandere-daydreams]

Screening: Invasion of the Body Snatchers (1978).

Pairing: Yandere!Carlisle Cullen x Reader (Twilight).

Word Count: 2.1k.

TW: Wildly Unbalanced Power Dynamics, Medical Malpractice, Blood, Controlling Behavior, Deliberate Social Isolation, Misuse of Prescription Drugs, and Generalized Twilight. Dead Dove: Do Not Eat.

It might’ve just been the isolation getting to you, but you were starting to think that your doctor wasn’t completely human.

Not that you’d ever say so out loud. At best, it was awful thing to think about a man who’d only ever been kind to you and, at worst, it proved yet another symptom to your ever-developing, ever-worsening illness had cropped up and would need further treatment to correct. You knew better than to say things that would make you seem more sick than you already were, but it was hard to stop yourself from lingering on the idea – especially considering you only had books, sleep, and his company to pass the endless time. Admittedly, it’d been a while since you’d seen another person, but you could’ve sworn he was paler than he should’ve been, to the point of bloodlessness. He never ate or drank around you, but sometimes when he spoke, the light would catch on his teeth in a way that made them look too sharp, too prominent. You might’ve been dreaming, but once, after you took your medicine but just before you fell asleep, you swore you saw him taking the cap off of the blood sample he’d taken a few minutes prior, like he planned to do something aside from—

You heard a door open and instantly, your paranoia was dismissed in favor of more interesting stimuli. In this case, that came in the form of your doctor, Carlisle Cullen, stepping into your bedroom, an inhumanly perfect smile already painted across his inhumanly perfect lips.

…maybe you should tell somebody about your little conspiracy. If only to be absolutely sure that you were really losing your mind.

“Good morning,” he said, and it occurred to you that you hadn’t thought to check the time, yet. Your life existed in three states: alone, asleep, and with Carlisle. Only that last one really mattered – the other two could easily be lumped into the same category helpfully labeled ‘waiting for Carlisle’s next visit’. “Have you been keeping yourself busy?”

“I’ve only been awake for a couple hours,” you explained, shrugging as he took his usual seat in the chair left next to your bed. He was always polite enough to ask about the boring details of your day, and you were always embarrassed enough to skirt around just how little you had the energy for. Most of the time, it was all you could do to pull yourself out of bed and yourself to eat before retreating back into your little safe haven. On a good day, you’d be able to go for a walk, maybe respond to a few of the calls you were constantly missing, but most days weren’t very good. “Reading, mostly. Thanks again for the recommendation.”

The book he’d lent you – a dry historical drama with characters as bland as water and a plot as boring as sin – sat open on your lap, but you’d only gotten through half a chapter before giving up. It was hard to believe Carlisle was only a few years older than you, sometimes. You couldn’t imagine how someone who seemed so young could have such awful taste.

Still, he looked pleased, his pleasantly aloof expression taking on a defined note of satisfaction. “It’s important to keep your mind occupied while your body’s recovering. You wouldn’t want to waste all of my hard work by letting yourself die of boredom, now, would you?”

“No, doctor.” It was stupid to try, but he’d set himself up for it. You couldn’t seem to stop yourself, your heart beating just a little faster as you grasped blindly for the impossible. “You know, there’s this friend of mine who keeps asking when she’ll be able to visit, and I thought it might help pass the time if—”  

“You’ll have to find a way to let her down.” Carlisle’s voice was smooth, calm. You did your best not to sulk, but still, he let out a labored sigh, only a touch too professional to roll his eyes. “It’s for the best. It’s good that you stay active, but you know what’ll happen if you overexert yourself, don’t you?”

Vaguely. It was hard to remember the details of your condition, and you weren’t in the mood for another lecture. “I do, doctor.”

“And you’re going to behave your check-up, aren’t you?”

“I am, doctor.”

“And that’s why you’re my favorite patient.” Your compliance was rewarded with a beaming smile, an appeased nod as he pulled his old-fashioned leather doctor’s bag into his lap. “We better make good on that promise before you change your mind, then.”

You didn’t protest. Honestly, you didn’t say much of anything. You never talked during your exam, preferring to let Carlisle go through the necessary motions with as little interference as possible. Instead, he filled the silence with mindless chatter about his children and how they were doing at the local public school, the hospital’s ongoings since you were unofficially discharged, and your favorite – Forks’ particularly colorful smalltown gossip, from the sheriff’s wayward daughter moving back into town to the spike in bear sightings on the local hiking paths. “It’ll be a busy week,” he mentioned, as he finished taking your blood pressure. “You might have some unexpected company, after all.”

At that, you perked up. You met nearly all of Carlisle’s assistants (medical students, you guessed, judging by their ages) by now, and even if you didn’t care for all of them, it was still nice to see someone other than him. Your least favorites were the dark haired twins – the wiry boy who always seemed to be biting back a smirk and the pixie-like girl who always acted like she knew something you didn’t – and you were particularly fond of the blonde girl… Rosemary, or maybe Rosaline. She was nice, compassionate, kind enough to keep you company even when Carlisle wasn’t in the room. More importantly, she brought interesting books – romance and horror, novels like Dracula and Carmilla and Interview with a Vampire, always handing over with a sweet smile and a hushed reminder not to let Carlisle know she was breaking his rules. Looking back on it, you probably shouldn’t have accepted anything she tried to give you. You would’ve hated for her to get in trouble just because she was trying to be nice.

Rather than voicing your overwhelming bias, you watched intently as he slipped the loose cuff off of your arm, tucking it back into his bag and removing something else, something long and silver and sharp. Immediately, your gaze shot back to your lap, your throat going dry in an instant. The next time you managed to spit something out, it was nearly too quiet to be audible. “…is there any chance we could, uh, I don’t know,” You paused, shrunk into yourself. “…skip the phlebotomy, this time?”

Carlisle’s answer was as swift as it was ruthless. An airy laugh, a jagged twist to this smile as he took up the needle properly and turned it over in his hand, looking for defects. It was already attached the glass syringe and, even worse, an empty vial; just a touch bigger than you remembered it being, the day before. “And take that kind of risk? How little do you think of me, (Y/n)?”

“It’s not you, it’s just—I already feel a little faint, and you take one every day, and—” You cut yourself off, inhaling sharply. “I just don’t know if it’s really necessary. Considering how careful you are and everything.”

“You’re right, I am careful. Which is exactly why I have to do this each and every time I come to see you.” He sighed, shook his head – suddenly more of a patronizing, paternal figure than any kind of medical professional, let alone peer. “You understand, don’t you? Without regular testing, your condition may worsen, and if you get any sicker than you are now…” You stiffened as he trailed off, bracing yourself. You knew what came next, what always came next.

“You’ll have to go back to the hospital, angel.”

It was strange, how a voice as smooth and as beautiful as his could be so difficult to listen to.

You didn’t like Carlisle. You hated his condescending smile, his repetitive rambling, his terrible taste in books and his creepy little students. You hated how little he let you do, how he talked about your illness – always skirting around the details, never giving you enough information to know whether you were on the verge of dying or a few days away from making a full recovery. No, when you were honest with yourself, you didn’t like him. Hated him, even.

But you couldn’t go back to the hospital, with its blank white walls and sobbing patients and strange, mind-altering drugs that put your sleep and made you feel like someone was biting into your throat. It’d been a miracle when Carlisle first told you about his domestic services, when he offered to have you discharged in exchange for only the promise that you wouldn’t seek care that didn’t come from him. Arrangements were made, your rent and bills taken over by some nameless, faceless local charity, and for the first time in months, you got to go home. You could live with Carlisle and his once weekly, now daily check-ups. You could live with the fact that you didn’t remember the last time you’d gotten to make a decision for yourself.

And, if you had to, you could live with paying for your freedom in blood, too. As long as it meant you didn’t have to go back to that terrible place.

Once again, you didn’t say anything, but you didn’t resist as he sighed and ran a sterilizing pad over your forearm, the antibiotic strong enough to burn. You clenched your eyes shut, but that did nothing to block out the feeling of a thin elastic band being wrapped around the crook of your elbow, of his needle pushing through your skin and burrowing into the vein underneath it. There was a second of pressure, of knotted soreness, and then, the syringe was gone and you were left feeling just a little colder, just a little more empty than you had before.

Even after opening your eyes, you kept them trained on your lap. You easily could’ve spent the rest of his visit in silence, but metal clinked against glass as he rushed to cap his vial and suddenly, you needed to hear the sound of your own voice. “I think I might be getting paranoid,” you managed, with a breath of a laugh. “For a few minutes this morning, I was able to convince myself that you were… I don’t know, an alien studying humanity, or something.”

“If I was, I’m sure that I would still pick you as the best possible specimen for my examination.” It was hollow comfort, but you smiled anyway, nodding along. Your medication came next, in the form of a small, chalky white pill that you still struggled to swallow under Carlisle’s vigilant gaze. You managed to choke it down, though, and as always, the effects were instant; a sudden clearness, blankness, followed shortly by an exhaustion so thick and so heavy, you couldn’t remember what it’d ever felt like not to be tired. You tried to hold yourself up, but faltered – buckling under your own weight. Carlisle chuckled as he caught you, helping you lay down with a soft squeeze to your shoulder, a feather-light kiss to the top of your head. ���Sleep, angel. It’s good for you.” And then, his grin still pressing into your scalp. “And try not to dream about vampires, this time.”

So he did know about Rosalie’s books. Pouting, you shrunk into yourself, letting him drag the comforter over your abruptly immobile body as your eyes eased shut, as he pulled away – a vial of your blood still warm in his hand. It would’ve been impossible to stop yourself from falling asleep, but you managed to stave off unconscious long enough to watch him remove the vial’s carefully applied seal, to unscrew the air-tight cap with the kind of tenderness you’d only seen him use while taking your temperature or petting his fingers through your hair after he thought you were already too far gone to remember. He did a lot of things when he thought you weren’t looking, didn’t he? You’d never really noticed that, before.

Through your eyelashes, you watched him bring the vial to his lips before everything went dark.

[chestersturniolo]

dealer!chris x fem!reader

Summary ; dealer!chris visits y/n for a top up of her usual, but intrigue consumes her and she decides to try something new.

Warnings ; strong mentions/use of drugs (don’t do them!) , use of y/n & pet names. 

============================

after a long, long day, i trudge through the door of my apartment with a deep sigh. 

i throw my bags down by the door and immediately head to my bedroom, to the pretty glass jar stashed in my dresser. 

i fumble around the draw and pull it out,eagerly snatching the lid off. 

“fuck” i mumble to myself, whilst staring down at nothing but pathetic crumbs laying at the bottom of the jar. i let out a frustrated huff,setting it down on top of my dresser.

i reach to my back pocket, pulling out my phone 

the upside to running out is needing more…and needing more meant seeing him. 

chris was my first ever dealer. and my only one since then. at first i was terrified of him, i had never smoked before. so having to meet a scary stranger guy to be able to do so, made it even more nerve wracking.

••••••••••flashback••••••••••••

my heart is in my throat as i walk towards his car. the soft glow of the streetlights that flicker slightly not helping my nerves. meeting a random guy in his car at night for illegal activity? what could go wrong?

the only thing that keep those thoughts at bay (not really) is the fact i got his number from a close friend who i trust. 

“here goes nothing” i sing to myself before reaching out to the handle, plopping down into the passenger seat. i keep my eyes at my lap, too nervous to even make eye contact. 

“uh-hi” i mumble, barely audible

“what’s up… what do you want, and how much?” 

i tear my eyes away from my lap, to meet the boys gaze.

woah

i open my mouth to talk but nothing comes out, partly because i didn’t expect him to look like this , and partly because i had no idea what to say. or how any of this works. 

i just sit, staring like an idiot , mouth agape.

“helloooo” he says with a slight underline of frustration in his voice, waving his hand across my eye line to grab my attention. 

“what do you want” he repeats, 

i force myself out of my trance “um…weed?” i squeak, coming out more like a question 

“okaaay? and how much?” he presses.

his face emotionless and stern

once again i have no idea what to say. this should be so simple, but i have no idea the terms and phrases, how much is too much, how much is too little????? i try my best to hide the thoughts running through my head with a simple “just a little i guess…”

what the fuck is wrong with me 

i watch as his eyebrows raise and he lets out a soft chuckle

“you’ve never done this before have you” 

i wave of embarrassment washes over me as i feel my cheeks burn up, realising that my inexperience is so blatantly obvious. my gaze once again falls to my lap.

“uh..no..no i haven’t” 

he must notice my humiliated state, as his whole demeanour shifts.

“hey,don’t worry about it” he reassures, his voice now soft. 

“i’m just glad you came to me” 

i glance up to him once again, a new set of eyes now looking back at me. warm and reassuring.

a soft smile on the corner of his lips.

“i’ll help you out okay? i don’t think you should do it alone” 

i nod softly. for some reason i trust him.

•••••••flashback end•••••••

the rest of that night was spent with chris. he wasn’t so scary after all. we went to a backstreet and he talked me through everything. we smoked, we talked , we laughed. He made me feel so comfortable and safe. and i will forever be grateful for it.

i have been going to him ever since. although it’s not just a transaction.

we’ve hung out every now and again (a/n iykyk) and an unspoken connection has been built between me and chris since we met that night. i’m honestly not sure what it is. 

i’m not just a customer.

he’s not just my dealer.

we care for eachother.

———————

i change into an oversize T and some shorts to get comfy, whipping my bra off and basking in the free feeling. i hear my phone ping, i look over to see a text from chris ,

“here”

i smirk and slip some shoes on, not bothering with any extra clothing, making my way out the the apartment.

 

i see his car parked in the complex lot, i rush over ,goosebump’s engulf my skin as the cold night air whips around my legs. i swing the door open, plopping into the passenger seat of the warm car, the smell of chris’ familiar cologne fills the air. 

“hey ma” he chirps, shooting me his signature smirk whilst his eyes trail down to my legs and back up again.

“want your usual?” he asked, starting to rummage through the backpack on his lap.

“pleaaaaseee” i smile. 

chris starts pulling out handfuls of baggies placing them on his lap, whilst looking for my usual. my nosey eyes fall on the pile, examining the contents of each bag. one in particular catches my eye. the bright white contents staring back at me. i had never had any interest in anything else other than smoking. but for some reason,in this moment, my intrigue was strong. 

“here” chris says, holding out a familiar bag. 

i grab the bag without looking up 

“thanks”

chris notices my fixation and follows my gaze down to his lap. 

“oh absolutely not!”  

i snap my head up, his slightly widened eyes already on me. his eyebrows are raised as he looks at me with a face full of disbelief. this quickly turns into a stern look.

“no way, i’m not selling that to you” 

“why not, you sell it to other people?” i challenge with a slight pout. 

chris sighs and tears his eyes away,setting them on the dashboard. 

“yes, but they’re other people ma. you’re you.” he glances back to me 

“i’m not selling that shit to you y/n” 

i roll my eyes with a defeated sigh. 

“fine” i mumble, crossing my arms, turning my head frontways away from chris.

“don’t sell it to me. i just kinda wanted to try it…” i speak quietly, whilst making sure the disappointment in my tone was clear. 

see i knew chris was a softy deep down. at least for me. so i figured i’d try and make him cave with my pouty tone. but just incase that wouldn’t work, i had the perfect back up. Chris was firm about me not buying from anyone else… it wasn’t about him losing business, it was about other peoples product. He’d warned me countless times about “stepped on shit” and he made it very clear he doesn’t want me to go anywhere else for a fix.

“i guess i’ll see if y/f/n has any other contacts, maybe they’ll sell it to me” i say casually

“god dammit” i hear chris hiss under his breath through gritted teeth.

i smirk internally knowing that comment was working exactly how it was meant to.

i feel him grab my jaw, guiding my head back towards him. his eyes staring intently into mine.

“one try” he states. pointing a finger at me with his free hand. 

my lips turn upward into a smirk,

he notices my satisfaction, releasing his grip on my jaw. he sighs with a shake of his head. stuffing the scattered baggies on his lap back into his bag, before opening the car door and stepping out. i watch him as he comes round to my door, opening it and reaching a hand out. 

“come on” he orders. 

i grab his hand, he pulls me up and starts leading me back to my apartment. 

—————

my leg bounces anxiously as i perch on the edge of my couch, watching as chris wades through his bag once again. finally he pulls out the bag i was fixated on. he holds it up to our eye level, his eyes move from the bag to me.

“you’re sure about this?” he asks, with a dead serious expression. searching my eyes for any traces of hesitancy.  

i nod my head 

“talk to me” he presses 

“yes chris i’m sure”

he gives a soft nod of his head before opening the bag.  i watch as he brings his finger to his mouth giving a small suck to the tip, getting it wet. 

he pauses, glancing up to me

“you trust me?” 

i nod once again  “of course” 

he reaches into the bag dipping his finger into the powder. i watch curiously as it sticks to his wet finger tip. he scoots closer to me on the couch and uses his free hand to hold my jaw. 

“open sweetheart” he whispers, giving my jaw a small squeeze.

my brows furrow slightly, but i obey, slowly opening my mouth.

chris brings his other hand towards me , and slowly slides the coated finger into the side of my mouth. i feel him find his way to my gums, slowly rubbing up and down. his reassuring eyes not leaving mine. 

he repeats the action to the other side,then slowly pulls his finger out, planting a sweet kiss onto my cheek whilst still holding my jaw. before placing the finger that was in my mouth, into his own, taking off the excess. 

he sits back into the couch and watches me.

a mixture of anticipation and nerves start to wash over me, my leg returning to its bouncing state. the fear of what will happen next starts swirling in my brain. 

chris noticed my shift immediately , he reaches over and grips my knee, holting the bounces. brushing his thumb in small soothing circles. 

“hey-” he coos, bobbing his head down slightly to meet my gaze that’s now resting on the floor

“-it’s okay ma, i’ve got you aight?” 

================================

a/n - thankyou for reading loves🤍🤍🤍 and thankyou again for 500 of you!!? this was a fun one i hope you enjoyed. requests open 🥰

- 𝑺𝒂𝒈𝒆 ♡

[multi-fandom-imagine]

« Thank you || Astarion ||

A/n: I watched a scene of Baldurs Gate and it made me sad so now I’m rectifying it. I know these don’t exist in Bauldrs Gate { at least I’m positive but it’s my fic damn it.

Astarion hated it, keeping you from going out in the Sun because of him, you were pregnant, you should be enjoying what the day light had to offer not being stuck in the dark with him.

The others did their best to see you yet the further along you got the shorter the visits came. He couldn’t blame them, not with how tired you often got and yet he still blamed himself.

Because being cooped up in the dark was not good for you. Letting his eyes slip over your sleeping form, he sighed gliding across your cheek until he heard the sound of knocking.

Biting back a scowl, he quickly rushed to the door wanting to be as quick as possible since he’d rather not wake you.

“What?! Oh it’s you.” Frowning, Astarion adverted his gaze when he spotted Gale. “If you are here for sweetness, she is sleeping.”

Titling his head, Gale smiled clasping his hands behind his back. “Oh no! I am here for you my friend, I wanted to give you something.” He stated pulling out a ring. “It is a A Daylight Amulet, also referred to as a Daylight Ring,a piece of jewelry with a lapis lazuli gemstone enchanted by yours truly.” He held his head high.

“I don’t need some gaudy-.”

“Now now, before you turn your nose up at this. Just understand what it does.” Gale continued to smile as he handed the vampire the ring. “It has an enchantment on it that protects your kind from the sunlight, with this ring. You can walk freely during the day.”

“What?” Astarion sucked in some air, he’s heard around about this but he never thought it would be possible. Frowning he sipped the ring on his finger just as the sun started to rise. He didn’t even notice that the sun was shinning on him.

That he wasn’t burning!

Taking a deep breath he took a step out side his door then closed his eyes enjoying the sun beating down on the skin.

he wasn’t burning! He could be with his children in the Sun!

A laugh escaped his lips, it felt too long since the parasite being gone that he’s felt the sun on his skin.

He could dance with you on the sun.

Turning to face Gale with a smile, his eyes Misty from the tears threatening to fall. “Thank you.”

Gale let out a laugh tipping his head to the man then quickly waved him off. “You have nothing t thank me for my friend. I just did not like the thought of you not be able to be with your child….now I am off, still need to find that pesky cure. I did promise after all.”

Giving the man a wink, he then turned it you as you were standing in the doorway. “Have a good morning.”

Watching Gale leave, you took a step out side as your eyes remained glued to Astarion. You didn’t know what to say, so instead you grasped your husband’s hand falling into his embrace.

“Dance with me my love.”

Looking up at Astarion with a watery smile you nodded your head. “I’d love too.”

[minwonsgirl]

a pool of hidden love.

— dino x gn! reader

— fluff with tiny tiny plot

— best friends to lovers, kissing, smoking, unpromped confessions, chan and y/n are both kinda stupid tbh, marriage talk, cute cute stuff, and like 1 joshua mention.

"wanna hang out at the pool tonight?" chan asked, after puffing out a wad of smoke and twirling the cigarette in his fingers. I grabbed it from his hand and press it in between my lips, inhaling a good amount of that toxic poison in my body.

when we were younger, chan and I came across the huge abandoned pool in the middle of the forest next to our home town. apparantly a drowning incident caused the pool to close down, but before they could tear it down the owner died and the property came under the government. no one really visited it so we decided to keep the spot as our own.

chan and I had to go to different states for college, we could only meet during the holidays. every time we would meet we would sneak out and meet up at the pool.

the pool was completely empty and dry, but overtime we managed to make it comfy by adding in a mattress, blankets, a mini fridge full of snacks, an internet cabel, and a nice little roof made out of cardboard boxes and a whole lot of water proof tape to protect us from the rain.

on nights with particularly good weather, we would open up a part of the cardboard roof, and stare into the sky's beautiful paintings, we would point at and try to recognize as many constellations as we could and then fall asleep in each other's arms.

"not tonight, we have our friends pre wedding thing tomorrow morning remember?" I said, laying my head back on his stomach, my legs were propped up against the wall. I hand him the blunt and wait for him to take it.

chan groans out loud and uses my pillow to cover his face so that he could scream into it. then he grabs it from my hand. "why is everyone getting married so quickly?" he asked in the middle of blowing out, "it's so annoying."

"I think it's cute" I said, tapping my foot on the wall. I felt chan lift his head up to side eye me, "cute? you find marriages cute?" he raised an eyebrow judgementally. then he laughs and says "oh jisoo your so cute, our love is so cute, let's get married" in a high pitched mocking voice.

I punch his chest and he starts coughing, "shut up asshole" I rolled my eyes. "they've been dating since eighth grade it makes perfect sense for them to get married at twenty four."

chan laughs but nods his head in agreement. the cigarette had almost died out by the time we both fell silent. he holds it above my lips so that I could take the final blow. when I'm finally done the extinguishes it on a platter on my bedside table.

the silence streches out for awhile before chan breaks it by asking "do you ever think we would get married?"

I lift a brow in confusion, "like, to each other?" I asked sitting up on my bed so that I could face him, chan does the same and leans against the head board. "no silly, I meant in general" he said, then he lifts his head to a side and adds, "though it's not really a bad idea, is it?"

"getting married, to each other?" I pointed between us. I scoffed and fixed him with a pointed glare, "channie are you high?"

he rolled his eyes, "we shared one joint." he said in an unimpressed tone. I shrug my shoulders, "sorry but I am not the one suggesting we get married"

"didn't say we should get married today" he let's out in an exasperated voice, "we have chemistry, and be honest there is no way you don't like me back" he adds defensively.

I crawl my way to sit beside chan and hand him the soda can he had brought up from the kitchen awhile ago. when he takes a sip and let's out a satisfied sigh, I shove him to get his attention, "ofcourse we have chemistry, we're best friends," I said, "by your logic our moms would have some very serious explaining to do."

chan rolls his eyes and snorts, "oh yeah sure, our moms most definitely want to marry each other."

"chan!"

"how devastated do you think our daddies will be?" he asked while laughing at me.

I punch his arms, "for a person who just confessed to his long time best friend, you seem awfully well" I said. chan freezes as a wave of realisation crashes over him, "fuck" he cursed, while a sweet blush covers his cheeks.

I laughed softly and let him revel in his embarrassment for a little while. "I— I didn't say I like like you." he mumbled, avoiding my eyes and I felt a smirk crawl up my lip.

"relax chan, I don't think it's a bad idea" I said, grabbing the magazine from the foot of my bed and opening it to continue reading from where I last stopped.

I felt chan freeze beside me, "you don't think it's a bad idea?" he asked, genuine confusion clouding his features.

I shrugged my shoulder to feign nonchalance. "your a great guy, an we make a greater team. why shouldn't we get married?" I said, the words on the page mocking me by not letting me understand what they meant.

chan pushes his hand on the magazine and catches my attention with his voice, and a hooked finger lifting my chin to hold eye contact, "wait hold on, are you proposing?" he asked with the same smugness I was feeling a minute earlier (and am lacking in now).

a sudden wave of shyness hits me but I refused to acknowledge it, "no— no way." I said, turning my head away from his piercing gaze, "you did it first" I said in an exasperated voice as if I was a child being accused of doing something only after I saw someone else do it.

chan looked taken aback for a second, then he shakes his head lightly as if to throw away all the useless doubts "I'm gonna kiss you" he said, holding the sides of my neck, "and I want you to slap me very hard if you don't want me to" he said.

as if in hell I would do that.

I don't wait for him to lean down and just reach up myself to meet his plush lips. he almost pull back in surprise but I grab onto his shirt and pull him close to me.

he gives in and melts into the kiss, giving me every suppressed feeling and every fluttering emotion he kept hidden for I dont know how long. when he finally pulled back he rests his head on my shoulder and pants.

when he pulls back theres a wide grin on his face and he laughs. he stops for a moment to think, the grin never leaving, then he falls on the bed and starts laughing again.

I raised my eyebrow at his maniacal behavior, "did i kiss you dumb or what" I asked, resting my hand on his forehead to check his temperature.

chan rolls his eyes but smiles anyways, "I was right," he sings, "our moms do have some explaining to do!"

[sturniolo04]

Surprise M.S.

Bf!Matt x Gf!Reader

Summary: In which Matt surprises you (his gf)

A/N: Please leave requests in my inbox; running out of writing ideas

A long-distance relationship is something you and Matt didn't have in mind but, of course, when Matt and his brother's YouTube career took off all too fast, it threw almost a 3,000-mile wedge in your guys' relationship.

See you and the Triplets were what you called childhood best friends. You guys were basically raised together. The constant sleepovers and family vacations you guys took with each other's families. To sum it up, Marylou and Jimmy were legitimately your second mom and dad.

So ultimately you were bound to fall for one of your childhood best friends. Everyone out of your Boston friends thought that hands down Chris was going to be the one for you. The universe, though, had other plans, because as you and the triplets got older together and matured together to a degree, you took more of a liking to Matt just because of his calm demeanor and just knowing that he ultimately became your safe space. So when Junior Year of high school arrived you both came to your senses and ended up confessing to each other and being together ever since.

This brings you to the present day, you sitting at home not having the best day. Everything didn't go right for you since early that morning, from having so much college work piling up to do to being late for work to the ultimate dealbreaker, the worst thing about all of this is all you want is a simple hug from your boyfriend who ironically is hours away from you.

"is something bothering you sweetie," your mom asks from across the island counter you had recently installed in your new house when you moved out. "huh, oh it's nothing it's stupid" you reply back setting your phone down on the marble countertop. It wasn't stupid and it definitely wasn't nothing, on top of all the shitty things happening today Matt hadn't texted you once which was not normal for him so you just assumed he was in a meeting or something but when it became hours passing by you became anxious and nervous that he forgot about you and let LA get to his head. "Okay then, do you want to go to the store to restock your groceries so you don't starve" your mom chuckles to herself as she opens your refrigerator. "Sure, I have to go to Sephora anyway" you sigh grabbing your phone and then grabbing your shoes.

Little did you know this was all normal. Marylou, Matt, and your mom had planned this a month in advance, they were flying Matt out to Boston as we speak just to spend the month with you and it just so happens that it was on the exact day you really needed him most but, once again your completely unaware of this because after all, it was an unknown surprise.

-time skip-

"I just need some more foundation then we can go back to my house if you want Mom" you stated simply trying not to let on that you were so upset about not hearing from Matt. "okay take your time" your mom replied back as you turned to look through the various foundations to find yours. "I think your dad and I might go to visit your grandmother in Iowa soon" your mom states randomly to keep you somewhat distracted as she begins recording subtly the aisle next to the end of where you were currently standing. "really that sounds fun, how is she doing anyway?" you trail off in your response to your mom, still fixated on finding the foundation you were needing, all while your boyfriend, now sneaking his way to the exact spot you and your mom were located. "found it, we can go check out now mom" you state as you turn around facing her. "what are you doing mom" you giggle at your mom failing to give a response as she is still actively recording, giving your boyfriend enough time to fully stand next to you without you sensing his presence. After standing there perplexed at your mom's unusual reaction, you begin to turn to leave her and go check out so you can go back home. "oh my god" you exclaimed, hugging yourself out of pure shock, finally seeing who was standing next to you the whole time. "hi baby" matt finally speaks, giggling at your cuteness. "oh my god" you reiterate again finally wrapping your arms around matt's neck as he shifts his grip from your waist to your thighs lifting you off of the ground as you wrap your legs around him. "mom did you know about this" you ask genuinely as matt sets you back on your feet. " baby both your mom and my mom planned it out" Matt interjects grabbing the sides of your face and kissing your forehead then proceeds to wrap his arms around your neck and bring you into him. "okay well I will leave you lovebirds to it, I will meet you guys at the car " you mom announces walking out of Sephora.

"talk to me pretty girl what has been happening" Matt finally speaks up as you look up at him from your tight embrace "I really needed you today i have been so stressed out and I thought you were forgetting about me when you didn't text me at all today" you ramble on. "hey i would never forget about you I've known you my whole life, I'm crazy about you" he replies simply brushing the hair out of your face that had fallen from your messy ponytail. "pinky promise" you huff out as matt pulls away from the hug you guys were sharing to link your guys pinkies. "pinky promise angel"

Taglist

@adirtylittleheart @mintsturniolo

[goosewithtwoos]

SLUMBER PARTY

Pairing: Bob x Reader

Summary: Phoenix left some aphrodisiac brownies at your house - you accidentally eat one

DISCLAIMER: yeah i got no fwicking clue how aphrodisiacs work so this is more of a crack post than anything don’t take it too seriously

“You brought brownies!” You squeal, running up to hug your best friend.

Phoenix was carrying a small box of brownies that were perfectly decorated with powdered sugar. Your mouth was watering just looking at them.

“Hands off!” She cries, holding them over her head. “It’s a gift for someone. I’m going to a bachelorette party later.”

You pout. “Not even one?”

“Not even one.”

The two of you head inside, catching up on things and discussing plans for your next official leave. You were trying to schedule a trip with everyone down to Sanibel island off the coast of Florida but Hangman was being difficult and said the time he’d spent in Pensacola had been enough to last a lifetime.

You helped Phoenix get ready for the party, doing her makeup for her. Having grown up with four older brothers, Phoenix had never had time to play with makeup. You didn’t mind - in fact, you loved doing makeup for other people.

After about 45 minutes, a phone rang. Phoenix picks hers up only to find that it was your phone that was ringing.

You grab it off the vanity and check the caller ID.

Bob.

You show your phone to Phoenix who grins wildly. She’s known about your crush on her WSO ever since she had introduced you.

“Hello?” You ask tentatively. It was rare that he’d call you. Typically, he’d call someone else and ask them to ask you something.

“Hey, uh, sorry this is weird for me to call. I was just wondering -“

Your heart was beating out of your chest. You looked at Phoenix, silently pleading with her for help.

‘Put him on speaker’ She mouths. You quickly do so, holding your breath lest he notices the change.

“I have your credit card. You left it at the Hard Deck last night and Penny gave it to me. I was wondering when would be a good time to drop it off?”

‘Right now!’ Phoenix mouths.

‘Right now?’ You mouth back, looking at the state of your room and yourself in the mirror. She nods frantically, turning around and quickly reorganizing your things back into the drawers.

“Umm…well I’m home right now if you wanted to bring it over.” You hoped you came across at least slightly suave instead of a panicking mess.

“Oh!” Bob sounded caught off guard. “Yeah, I can do that. Do you want me to leave it in your mailbox?”

Phoenix whips her head around. ‘No!’

“No? I mean, no! I’ve uh…been having a lot of mail theft recently. You can never been too careful.”

Bob hummed. “Mail theft is a huge deal. You should report it. I remember my sister had a problem with that for a while too.”

Bless. his. heart.

“Yeah…” Your voice died off, trying to figure out if this actually was real life or simply some dream. Bob was coming over. Your heart fluttered at the idea. “So! Um, when should I expect you?”

“Maybe like 30 minutes? I just left the PX and rush hour is kinda crazy at this time of day.”

Phoenix was grinning wickedly. She gave you two thumbs up and the look in her eyes told you that maybe this wasn’t a terrible idea.

You made a noise of agreeance in the back of your throat. “Sounds perfect.”

The next 30 minutes of your life we’re some of the most stress inducing you’d ever faced. You wanted everything to be perfect. Phoenix had high tailed it out of there, nearly forgetting her purse, and you sped cleaned the whole house like the president was coming to visit.

Sure, he was probably just going to come to the door, drop off your card, and leave but the small glimmer of hope you held made you clean. Maybe this time you’d actually have the balls to ask him to come inside.

A soft knock at your door announced his arrival. You scrambled from the couch, brushing down your shirt and fixing your hair before answering the door.

“Hey!” He choked out, taking in your figure. Your flight suit was pretty conservative along with you cammies. It was a rare occasion for him to see you in your civilian clothes. “This is for you.”

You took the card from him, careful to not accidentally brush his hand with yours.

“Thank you so much, I don’t know how I could have forgotten this.” You quickly shove the card into your back pocket for safe keeping.

He quickly shoved his hands in his front pocket and shrugged. “Happens to the best of us.”

You nodded, unsure of what to say and didn’t trust yourself to not randomly blurt out an ‘I love you’, so you settled for an awkward silence.

After you both had stared at each other for far too long, he gave you a quick nod and started to pivot away. “Well, guess I’ll see you back at in on Monday.”

Damn it, this wasn’t how it was supposed to go. You were supposed to invite him in and talk and maybe watch a movie and hold hands a little. Not have him walk away after less than a minute on your doorstep.

“Do you wanna come in?” You blurt out, surprising not only him but also yourself. “I have to give you something as an appreciation. I probably have a beer or something.” Fucking dumbass.

He turned back towards you, removing his hands from his pockets.

“I won’t take a beer but I will take a water.”

You stepped out of the doorframe allowing room for him to enter. “I do in fact also have water.”

He entered and then followed as you walked to the kitchen. It was small but good enough to make borderline decent meals. You weren’t much of a chef anyways and ate at the chow hall more than you’d care to admit.

“Do you want ice and a glass or just a bottle?” You ask, turning to the cupboard.

“Just a glass, no ice.” He said, taking in your decor.

This wasn’t a permanent lodging, just for the time you’re stationed here, but you still liked to decorate a little bit. Felt more like something you could call home.

You poured a glass and handed it to him, brushing his fingers as you did.

Your heart picked up from the slight touch and you cursed yourself for being such a child. You were a Naval aviator, you should be able to touch someone without having your mind go completely blank. Yet alas. Your mind was gone the moment his fingers touched yours.

He took a sip, then motioned with his chin to a tupperware sitting on the counter. “You just make those?”

You tilted your head, confused on how the hell a tupperware ended up on your counter. You went to inspect it only to find they were the brownies Phoenix had brought over for the bachelorette party. She must have forgotten them in her hurry to leave.

“Uh, these actually aren’t even mine.” You admit, wondering if it would be worth calling her back for them or not. She’d probably already be there by now. Guess if she really wanted them she would have called and asked. “Phoenix made them. She stopped by earlier and I guess she left them.”

His shoulders slumped a little bit at the news.

“But it doesn’t seem like she’s gonna come back for them any time soon and it would be a real shame to waste them.” You quickly follow up. The look on his face was worth it. You didn’t really want a brownie but you knew he wouldn’t eat one if you didn’t.

You pulled two paper towels and grabbed a brownie for the both of you, handing one to him and smelling yours. God, it smelled so good. Were these really made by Phoenix? They smelled like they were made by chocolatiers from some fancy Paris bakery.

“To Bob, for returning my card.” You said as a mock toast. He raised his brownie in turn before you took a bite in tandem.

Holy shit - they tasted even better than they smelled.

You quickly finished yours before grabbing a glass of water for yourself.

Bob stayed for a while, chatting in your kitchen about everything and anything. The conversation was completely normal so it was surprising when you felt the intense need to get off.

Your heart rate picked up rapidly and you could feel yourself getting wetter by the second. Your replies slowly turned from interesting, full and comprehensive sentences, to a mix of ‘mhm’ and ‘oh yeah’. God, why couldn’t you get control of yourself?

“Do you wanna go sit down?” You gasp out, fingers gripping the cup for dear life.

“Yeah, good idea.” Bob was looking much more pale than usual but you chocked that up to your terrible lighting and white countertops.

The two of you sat in the living area, a far enough distance from each other on the couch to make it awkward. You pulled your knees to your chest, hoping that the squeezing of your thighs would be able to help alleviate some of the feeling.

What was happening? You typically had self control but this was excessive. God, you needed a cold shower.

“So - uh - how’s your sister?” You also, trying to think of the least sexy topic.

“Good.” His reply was short and quick. His chest was heaving slightly, looking like he had just run a mile. Was he feeling the same thing you were? His composure seemed to be dissolving just like yours. “Sorry, I’m just a little bit warm. Do you mind if I take this off?” He gestured to his sweater, lightly tugging at the bottom.

You screamed internally. “Of course.” Fuck, once he mentioned heat, your whole body exploded and you needed to take a polar plunge.

Even once his sweater was off, he kept readjusting.

“I’ll turn a fan on.” The moment you stood, you knew something was really wrong. Your legs were like jello. Your heart was racing as your body ached with desperation.

The fan did little to help you cool off and the feeling was simply just getting worse. You had been talking about something, taxes maybe? Something that should have been a complete turn off but Bob was looking at you like he wanted to ravish you.

Your voice trailed off when you realized he wasn’t even paying attention to what you were saying and you couldn’t even remember where your sentence had died off.

“I’m so sorry, I promise I’m trying to listen, I don’t…” He was audibly panting, adjusting his collar. “Fuck, can I kiss you?”

The heat between your thighs was like nothing you’d ever felt before. “Mhm.” You manage to nod, trying desperately to not go insane. You needed his hands on you, like, yesterday.

In an instant, he pulled you into a lip bruising kiss, bucking his hips the moment you straddled him. He was so hard already, you were surprised by how needy he was before anything had even happened.

You kissed like the world was going to end. Like you needed each other like some sort of drug.

His hands found your waist, massaging your sides. You couldn’t help but grind your hips down on his, relishing the sounds he made. When his fingers slipped under your shirt, cold hands touching your warm skin, you gasped into his mouth.

“I need you so bad.” He whined.

“Say it again.” The pounding in your chest increased rapidly at his admission.

“I - I need you. Oh my God.” He cried as you bit down on the soft spot beneath his ear. “You can’t keep doing that.”

You smirk, dragging your tongue along the sensitive spot. “This?”

His whole body shook as he pulled you down tighter against him. “Y-yeah, that.” You couldn’t tell if the movement of your hips was your doing or his strong hands, pushing and pulling you back and forth.

“Can I take your shirt off?” He begs.

“God, yes, please.” You reply. His hands quickly pulled your t-shirt up and over, throwing it somewhere across the room.

Seeing your chest turned him feral. In an instant, his eyes darkened and all inhibition was gone.

“Jesus Christ.” He mutters, cupping your chest through your bra and squeezing. “I could die in between these.”

“Fuck me first.” You pant. You felt like your whole body was on fire. You needed friction, for him to touch you, anything.

He leaned forward and licked from the center of your chest slowly up your neck. You’d never had anyone else do anything like that but it was hot all the same. A strong hand lightly gripped your throat, pressing down enough to feel something but not enough to cut off any blood flow.

“God, you’re gorgeous. Could keep you on my lap forever.” He growls.

Something about the possessiveness made your mind short circuit.

“Robert.” You moan, pressing yourself down again. Every nerve was on fire. You were on fire. You were going to burn and you were going to burn with him.

“I got you, honey.” His southern drawl slowly making its way into his speech. You’d always been interested in saving a horse and riding a cowboy, and now seemed like a good time to try it.

You smashed your mouths back together and began pawing at the bottom of his shirt. You wanted it off but you didn’t want to peel yourself away from him.

He made quick work of the buttons on your shorts, pulling down the zipper and pressing two fingers against you. It felt so good - too good - and you needed him now.

"Please, please, please." You were begging a man, and you couldn't care less.

“I got you baby, you don’t need to beg. I’ll give it to you. Fuck, gonna give it to you so good.” His fingers were inside you, working you open, thumb pressing against your clit.

You threw your head back, groaning in agony and pleasure as he presses against your g-spot.

“Gorgeous, so fucking gorgeous,” he mumbles more to himself than anyone else. You were riding his fingers like a pro, swiveling your hips and grinding down like you’d done it a hundred times before.

“I need…I need you in me.” You moan out.

“I am in you.” He teases, biting down on your shoulder.

This cocky little son of a - “Robert Jameson Floyd.” You whine again. You’d never been reduced to whining and begging before but suddenly, it was the only thing you could do.

He groans when you call him by his full name. His fingers pull out, tapping your folds a few times before being pulled from your shorts completely. He lifts them and - damn him - sticks them into his mouth, acting as if it was the most delicious thing he’d had all week. “You need to take these off.”

Brilliant idea.

You stand, quickly removing your shorts and panties in a fluid move. He unbuckles his jeans and pushes them down. His boxers came off almost immediately afterwards and your eyes went wide.

You’d known he was pretty. Hell, he was probably the prettiest man you’d ever seen, but you didn’t realize that every inch of him was going to be pretty. And big.

You swallow, eyes flicking up to meet his. He was panting, looking at you and you realized you didn’t feel self conscious at all. You felt good, safe, and sexy. You’d probably ask to marry him if he could fuck you as good as he was saying he could.

“How’d you want this?” He asks.

“You’re from Texas, right?” You ask and he nods. “I’ve always been interested in saving horses.”

He throws his head back, laughing. “If it weren’t you standing naked in front of me right now, I’d be getting up and leaving. That was the worst thing I’ve ever heard. Get over here.”

You suppress a laugh, sitting back down on his lap, feeling him hard as a rock underneath you. "Your shirts coming off." You say, pulling at it.

He removes his glasses, shaking his head lightly, tousling his hair even more than your hands had. With or without his glasses, he made it hard to breathe. When he removes his shirt, you were sure he'd knocked the wind out of you entirely.

Your mind couldn't think of anything to say so you opted for leaning down and capturing him into another kiss. His large hands wrap around your side, kneading the flesh beneath. You had began rocking your hips back and forth without even realizing it until his hand stopped you.

"I want to get inside you before I come from just this." He admits, resting his forehead against yours.

You nod, still unable to form coherent thoughts. "Yeah, yeah that's a good idea."

You lift your hips as he lines himself up. Much to your pleasure, he didn't force you down and allowed for you to go at your own pace. It had been a while and you were tight. He hisses through his teeth as you sink down.

"Fit inside me so good." You tell him. He throws his head back, letting out a low moan. You were glad he wasn't the type of man who tried to silence himself. He sounded so beautiful. "Could stay here forever."

"Fuck me first." He says, bucking his hips ever so slightly, echoing your words from earlier.

Who were you to decline such a polite request?

You lift yourself up, enjoying how his eyes immediately snap down to watch where you're connected. The grip on your hips tightens as you go back down.

It felt like your senses were heightened. Every inch of him was sending flames through you. Your heart felt like it was going to burst out of your chest and Bob looked no better.

He was watching intensely as you moved, mouth ajar. You press your hands against his chest and lean forward ever so slightly. The change of angles makes you see stars.

"Oh my God." You cry out. He felt impossibly deep and so, so good.

"Feels better than I ever thought possible." He groans. "Just like you were made for me."

"Thought about this before?" You tease, spelling your name with your hips. What size ring was he?

Bob's hand leaves your waist and trails down to your clit. "Often." With a light pinch, you're doubling over, crying out with a mix of broken moans and his name.

"You're gonna make me come fast if you keep doing that." You warn him. As much as you wanted to come, the thought of this being over made you want to hold off as long as possible.

He pinches again. "I'm no better, darlin. Come whenever, I'll be right behind you." The feeling of him inside you was making you crazy. You were losing your mind and felt entirely content with it. "Fuck, keep doing that."

Your orgasm was rapidly approaching. You'd never come this quickly before and it would be embarrassing if Bob weren't so stunningly handsome and crying out just as much as you were. Sweat was beading on his forehead, causing his baby hairs to stick down.

You run your hand across his head, moving both the hairs and his head back. He looks at you, all fucked out, and the sight alone is perfect shower head masturbation material for the next few months.

"You're so beautiful." He says, his eyes glazed over, like he couldn't believe that you were real. "Can't believe this is real."

You moan in agreeance. This was beyond your wildest dreams. You would have never imagined this as a possible scenario for how the day would go. Part of you began to worry this was all a dream and you'd wake up to find your credit card was in your wallet the whole time.

He shifted and your world exploded. He was deeper than you ever thought possible. God, it felt so good. So, so good. Too good.

"Robert, I'm gonna come." You cry out, gripping his shoulders like a vice. His lips wrap around your chest, sucking and biting down, the harsh breath feeling like Heaven and Hell all at the same time, before he roughly pulls back.

"You gotta get up before I come inside you." He warns, the grip on your hips loosening.

You force your hips back down, tightening your thighs around him. "I'm on the pill, I wanna feel you. Give it to me, please?" You asked it so innocently but your words were filthy.

"Yeah?" He breathes out. "Want me to come inside you? Fill you up?" You clench around him. "You like that, huh? Like the idea of me marking you as mine. Tell me you want it."

"I want it, I want it." You chant. "Please give it to me. Need to feel you inside me."

He takes your other breast into his mouth, bouncing you with more urgency. "Gonna fill you up so good." You hear him mumble around you.

He pinches your clit and you're a goner. Your orgasm rips through you and you're coming harder than you've come before around him. You can tell you're saying something but your mind is so blank, you're not quite sure what it is.

"Holy fuck." He moans, hips stilling as you feel him come inside you.

You're both panting, resting foreheads against each other. You can feel him spilling out but make no effort to move. This was something you'd want to savor for as long as you lived. A size 10 ring would probably fit him nicely.

He presses a kiss to your cheek. His hands pull your hair from your face back into a makeshift pony tail from where it had been sticking to your neck with sweat before letting it fall. "You're amazing."

You laugh lightly, never having been told that after getting absolutely railed before. "I think that belongs to you. I've never had someone make me come that quickly before."

"Same." He agrees. He finds his glasses, putting them on and blinking rapidly to readjust his vision. "A goddess, for sure."

You laugh and swat at his chest. "A cowboy, for sure." He groans, rolling his head back.

“Oh, who the fuck is calling me right now?” You breathed out as your phone began ringing, pulling you from your lovely little bubble. Your heart dropped when you saw who it was. It was Phoenix. You didn't get off him, simply grabbing your phone from the table and answering “Hello?”

“Hey girl, I’m so sorry I just realized I left the brownies at your place! Don’t eat them okay? They’re for a prank.” Her voice was rushed as she got out every word.

“What do you mean ‘they’re for a prank’?”

“They’re aphrodisiac.”

Ah.

[qu1cks1lversb1tch]

Hi! You wrote Lucifer so beautifully I was wondering if you'd do a request? I keep wanting to see a really cute fic where either reader or Lucifer is nervous to make a move on the other because it's Charlie's friend or dad (depending whose perspective it was written from) and she finds out somehow and gives her blessing wanting them to be happy together. Thanks for hearing me out regardless and have a great day! :D

A/N — Oh you have no idea how much I love this request! Your kind words on my post made me so happy! Sorry it took so long, it's been a hectic week. I hope this is okay for being written in my half awake state :)

Nervousness | Lucifer x Reader

Warnings: Fluff, slight angsty theme, Luci being Luci (aka babygirl)

Word Count: 1,024

You were going to lose your mind.

If it wasn't from the knowing glances he sent you from across the room at any event, it would be the way he made it his mission to talk to you whenever he came to the hotel to make sure the place was still standing.

You did your best to ignore the way you had felt because that was your friend's dad — your best friend's dad at that.

You hated the way you were reduced to a blushing and stuttering mess in his presence, something that no doubt made Lucifer puff his chest out like a prideful peacock.

You hoped Charlie was too occupied with the hotel to notice any exchange.

Even if she did somehow notice, there was only so much that you could do, so you did what you do best: you avoided him. You avoided him like the fucking plague.

Not because you hated him, no. . . You just wanted to keep some shred of dignity. If Charlie told you he was coming (she always did), you found something to do literally anywhere else; grocery shopping, visiting your family, dragging Angel out for lunch — anything.

And then things began showing up.

At first it was your favorite flowers on a random Wednesday with a note attached, delivered right to the receptionist desk that you spent most of your days at.

Heard you've been feeling down, hope these can lift you up :) — L.M.

Then it became notes with cheesy pick-up lines that you'd randomly find between stacks of papers or in your purse.

Even when he wasn't physically there to make you blush, he somehow managed to, just by writing silly little notes and signing his name.

I don’t know much about astrology, but I do know how the universe started. It started with u n i ;) — L.M.

Are you a magician? ‘Cause every time I look at you, everyone else disappears! — L.M.

Do you believe in love at first sight, or should I walk by again and again until you do? — L.M.

If you were a fruit, you’d be a fine-apple. — L.M.

You'd be a liar if you tried to tell yourself that you hated it — you didn't hate the notes or him, you enjoyed both the notes and his presence (when he wasn't staring at you so intensely that you became a stuttering mess).

Then one day, the notes stopped.

Instead, they were replaced by lunch from your favorite restaurant in the Pride Ring and the King of Hell himself, sitting in your chair when you returned from the bathroom.

Charlie hadn't told you he would be coming. . . Maybe she didn't know?

"You can't avoid me forever, you know?" Lucifer questioned in a low tone, a lazy smirk adorning his face as you reached for the bag of goods.

"I'm not avoiding you." You stated as if it were the absolute truth.

"You're avoiding eye contact with me right now, [Y/N]. . . You know she wouldn't care, right? Well, she would care, but she wouldn't be mad."

You shook your head and laughed slightly. Charlie was unbelievably understanding, especially for someone who grew up in Hell, but even understanding people had their limits.

You had your limits.

"I can't." You whispered, momentarily glancing towards the doors. "She's my best friend and you love Lilith."

The words made your heart hurt, but you had to say them.

Someone had to.

"Is it the ring? Because I can lose the ring!" He stood from the chair and placed his hand in front of your face, making a small show of removing the singular piece of jewelry that bound him to his past lover.

It wasn't just the ring.

You were scared of the worst that could happen, the unspoken boundaries that dating your best friend's dad would inevitably cross. It didn't help that nervousness was eating away at your being with every note or longing glance from across the room.

What helped even less was the effect his voice had on you. Not only his voice but his general presence, his aura, his ethereal beauty that seemed to be only reserved for his pleasure.

"I can't." You repeated once more.

It had been a week since the conversation took place and you were flooded with more notes and flowers than before.

The pick-up lines increased in cheesiness, which ironically enough, only made you want him more.

You were in the middle of working when Charlie walked in carrying a vase full of your favorite flowers. You hadn't noticed until she spoke.

"My dad sent another one for you. . . You should give him a chance [Y/N]. I think it's nice that he's trying to get out there after my mom."

You paused, looking up at Charlie. Did you hear her correctly?

"What?" You asked.

"Well, my dad's been sending you flowers for a while now and he seems to really like you. I think you'd be good for each other — I mean, he looks at you like you put the stars in the sky! Which is soooooooo sweet! I know you feel the same way about him, so you should go for it!"

You gaped at your best friend.

"What — how?"

"I have my ways. . . Besides, he only met you six months ago and I'd rather him date you than someone who only cares about his status. I want you both to be happy, and if you're happy with each other, I'm happy for you!"

"I mean, are you sure? There has to be someone —"

"He loves you!" Charlie blurted out, immediately covering her mouth with wide eyes.

You only stared with wide eyes and uncertainty gnawing at you.

"It's true, and I'm taking you out tonight, [Y/N]." Lucifer's voice said from behind you.

You turned around and before you could utter those four words in return, or even anything to question what just happened, he kissed your cheek and disappeared, leaving a note where he had just previously been.

Hey, tie your shoelaces. I don’t want you falling for anyone else. — Lucifer

When had he stopped signing L.M.?

[lila-lou]

✨His true fate - Part 24/?✨

Summary: Jensen hasn't been happy for years. But it seems almost impossible for him to escape. After another nasty argument between him and his wife, he decides to visit his ´former´ best friend for his birthday. Back in Austin, an encounter awaits him that will turn his life completely upside down.

Pairing: Jensen x Reader

Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, Language, age gap

Word Count: 6620

A/N: English isn’t my first language, so please be lenient. 💙✨

By the time the night grew late, the two of you were entangled in the sheets, your bodies moving in perfect harmony. The pleasure you shared was both tender and intense, the kind that left you breathless and satisfied, yet craving more. Jensen’s hands were everywhere, his touch igniting a fire that neither of you wanted to extinguish.

Jensen’s lips pressed gently against your collarbone, their warmth spreading through your skin. His arms were wrapped tightly around your waist, pulling you close to him as you straddled his hips. The tightness of his hold left you feeling securely bound, his grip both possessive and affectionate. You didn’t complain; the closeness was intoxicating.

By now, hours of shared pleasure had left both of you in a state of heightened sensitivity. Every touch, every kiss felt magnified, turning each sensation into a deep, lingering pleasure. The movements between you were slow and deliberate, a sensual dance that extended the bliss you both had been riding for hours.

Your breaths came in soft, ragged gasps as Jensen’s mouth moved up to your neck, his lips finding the sensitive spots along your skin. He sucked gently but insistently, his touch sending waves of pleasure through you. Each moan you let out was a mix of relief and desire, your body responding eagerly to his every touch.

Jensen’s hands traveled up your back, his fingers lightly caressing the bare skin, causing shivers to run down your spine.

As the heat of the moment deepened, you moaned softly, “Jay”, your voice echoing the intimacy of the dark, quiet room. Leaning in closer, you pressed your chest against his, feeling his heart race just as fast as yours. The closeness had your breaths mingling, your senses enveloped by each other.

You gently rocked your hips, finding a slow, tantalizing rhythm that matched the throbbing pulse you felt from him. Jensen’s hands gripped your waist more firmly in response, guiding you subtly, encouraging the soft, rocking motion that drove each quiet moan that escaped him.

His gaze remained locked with yours, dark and intense, filled with an emotion that made your heart swell. The way he looked at you, with such fervor and depth, made you feel like you were the only two people in the world. His fingers traced the length of your spine, sending chills across your skin, drawing a path back to the small of your back where they rested, pressing you even closer to him.

With a sudden, gentle shift, Jensen rolled you onto your back, maintaining his position inside you. Hovering above, he looked down at you with a mix of raw intensity and tenderness. The connection between you was palpable, every breath and movement synchronized in a perfect, intimate dance.

Without giving you a moment to catch your breath, he began to thrust slowly but deeply, each movement deliberate and controlled. The sensation was overwhelming, each thrust penetrating deeply and causing your breath to hitch, a soft gasp escaping your lips with every motion.

Jensen’s face fell against your chest, his breath hot and uneven against your skin. His emotions were raw, his control slipping as the intensity of the moment took over. The mixture of pleasure and emotion was almost too much to bear, leaving him momentarily vulnerable as he let himself fully experience the connection he had with you.

You could feel the tension in his muscles, the way his body shuddered slightly with each thrust, and it only heightened your own pleasure. The rhythm between you became a powerful, unspoken conversation, filled with the depth of feeling that had been building between you for so long.

His hands gripped the sides of your face gently, guiding your gaze to meet his. The look in his eyes was one of pure, unfiltered emotion, a reflection of the intensity and passion you shared.

As Jensen continued to move slowly and deeply within you, his lips pressed against yours in a tender kiss, his passion and affection palpable. The kiss was gentle yet filled with an urgent need, his hands cradling your face as he explored the depth of your connection.

After a moment, he trailed his lips down from your mouth to your chest, his breath warm against your skin. When he reached your breasts, he let his lips linger, his hands gently cupping and exploring the softness of your curves.

He took one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking softly, his touch both playful and adoring. His eyes closed for a moment, savoring the feeling, a soft groan escaping him as he continued to give you this intimate attention. Jensen had always had a deep appreciation for your body, and in moments like this, it was clear just how much he cherished every aspect of you.

Jensen’s lips remained on your nipple, his touch unwavering despite your breathless whine. “I’m tired”, you murmured, your voice quivering with both fatigue and lingering pleasure. You could feel your body trembling as he continued his attentive suckling, each sensation both tender and overwhelming.

Jensen lifted his head slightly, his gaze softening as he looked at you. “I know, baby”, he said, his voice a soothing balm against your heated skin. His hands moved up to cradle your face again, his thumb brushing gently over your cheek. “Just one more”, he coaxed gently, his voice filled with a mix of tenderness and determination.

He could sense your exhaustion but also your resilience, knowing how deeply connected you were to each other in this moment. With a tender but insistent touch, he continued to move inside you, his thrusts slow and deep, drawing out every last ounce of pleasure.

His lips returned to your nipple, sucking softly, but now his movements were more deliberate, encouraging your body to respond one final time.

“Just for me”, Jensen whispered, his breath warm against your skin.

He adjusted his angle, his focus intensifying. He angled his hips just right, ensuring that each thrust hit your g-spot with precise accuracy. The change in angle magnified the sensations coursing through you, sending waves of pleasure through your body.

You gasped, the shift in sensation making your breaths come in short, uneven bursts. “Jensen… oh..fuck!”, you moaned, your body arching to meet his thrusts. The pleasure was becoming almost overwhelming, each stroke deeper and more impactful than the last.

“That’s it”, he murmured with a hint of cocky satisfaction.

His gaze remained locked on you, and he could see the telltale signs of your impending climax in the way you clenched around him.

“Look at me”, he urged, his voice low and commanding but filled with a tender edge. “I want to see those beautiful eyes”.

You struggled to maintain eye contact, your vision blurring slightly from the intensity of the pleasure. “Jensen…”, you managed to gasp, the word coming out as a breathless plea.

“I want to see you come for me. Let go”, he encouraged, his voice steady as he continued his deep, purposeful thrusts

As you looked into his eyes, the warmth and adoration you saw there made the moment even more intimate. Jensen’s hands gripped your hips firmly, guiding your movements to ensure every thrust was perfectly timed to drive you closer to the edge.

Your breaths were coming in sharp, quick bursts, and you felt your body starting to tighten around him. “Jensen… I’m—”, you gasped, unable to finish your sentence as the waves of pleasure began to crest.

“Come for me”, he whispered , his eyes locking onto yours with a mixture of pride and affection. “I’ve got you”.

With his encouragement, you couldn’t hold back any longer. The climax hit you with a force that left you gasping and trembling, your body writhing in response to the overwhelming pleasure.

As your moans grew louder, each cry of his name a testament to the intense pleasure he’d given you, Jensen’s own control started to unravel. The sight of you coming undone beneath him was all he needed to push him past the edge.

With a low, guttural groan, Jensen’s thrusts became erratic as he reached his climax. His grip on your hips tightened, pulling you closer as he buried himself deeply inside you. The sensation of your body clenching around him sent waves of pleasure through him, each ripple of your orgasm feeding into his own release.

His breaths came in ragged, heated bursts as he rode out the last of his pleasure, his eyes fluttering shut as he savored the moment. A satisfied, almost cocky smile touched his lips as he pressed his forehead against yours, his hands still gripping your sides.

You were both drenched in sweat, the aftermath of your combined climax leaving you utterly spent. The sheets were tangled around you, sticking to your damp skin, as you lay together in a post-orgasmic haze.

Jensen’s breaths came in deep, satisfied sighs, his forehead still resting against yours. His hands continued to trace soothing patterns on your sides, his touch gentle and affectionate. His body, though still pressed against yours, felt relaxed, the tension of the previous hours melting away.

“You’re amazing”, he murmured, his voice hoarse but filled with genuine admiration. He let out a contented sigh, his eyes still closed as he savored the moment of closeness. “I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of this”.

You managed a weak but happy smile, your body feeling pleasantly heavy and relaxed. “You definitely know how to make it worth it”, you replied softly, your voice barely more than a whisper.

Jensen chuckled softly, the sound a low rumble against your chest.

He shifted gently, finally pulling away and settling next to you on the bed. The shift of the mattress as he lay down was a soft comfort after the intensity of the moments before. He turned on his side to face you, propping his head up with one hand while the other remained on your side, maintaining a tender connection.

As he adjusted himself beside you, a cheeky grin spread across his face. “So”, he began, his voice playful yet still tinged with the remnants of exhaustion, “do I get to take credit for how relaxed you look right now, or is that all your doing?”.

You laughed, the sound light and airy, a perfect counter to the depth of the emotions still swirling inside you. “I think you might have had a little something to do with it”, you admitted, rolling to face him and mimicking his pose. Your hand reached out, tracing a line down his chest, appreciating the way his muscles relaxed under your touch.

“Thought so”, Jensen mumbled with a satisfied grin, his voice dropping to a low murmur. He tugged you closer, his arm wrapping around your waist as he pulled you flush against him. His lips met yours in a soft, lingering kiss, his touch both tender and possessive. The kiss was slower this time, more intimate, as if savoring the quiet moment of connection that lingered between you both.

You could feel his smile against your lips, that subtle cockiness still present, but it was softened by the affection he poured into the kiss. His hand caressed the small of your back, fingers drawing slow, lazy patterns against your skin. It was clear he wasn’t in any rush—this was a kiss meant to be enjoyed, a moment meant to be savored.

When he finally pulled back, he pressed his forehead against yours, his breath warm against your face. “You know”, he whispered, his voice filled with a mix of playfulness and sincerity, “I could get used to this”.

You smiled, your heart swelling at his words. “I think I already have”, you replied softly, your fingers still lightly tracing his chest. The warmth of his skin, the steady beat of his heart beneath your fingertips—it was all so comforting, so right.

Jensen chuckled softly, his thumb gently brushing your cheek. “Good”, he murmured, placing another kiss on your forehead. “Because I’m not going anywhere”.

His words hung in the air, the weight of them grounding you both in the reality of your connection. There was no need for more words; everything you felt for each other was reflected in the way you held each other close, in the quiet intimacy of the moment.

The next morning, Jensen’s alarm cut through the peaceful quiet of the hotel room, gently pulling both of you from the warmth of sleep. You stirred first, nestled against Jensen’s chest, feeling the soft rumble of his groggy groan as he reached over to silence the beeping.

“Morning”, he mumbled, his voice still thick with sleep. His arm tightened around you for a moment, as if wanting to hold on to the peacefulness of the night a little longer.

“Morning”, you whispered back, smiling against his skin. For a few blissful moments, you both stayed in that cocoon of warmth, neither wanting to move just yet.

But the day was calling, and Jensen had a full schedule ahead of him. You knew you’d be there with him, as you had been over the past few weeks, sitting in the front row at the convention, acting as though you were just another fan. The charade wasn’t always easy—pretending you didn’t know him in such an intimate way—but it had become part of the routine. It was the only way to be close without drawing too much attention.

Finally, Jensen sighed, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head before pulling away. “Guess we should get moving”, he said, though his reluctance was clear. He sat up, running a hand through his messy hair as he glanced over at you with a sleepy grin. “Ready for another day of pretending you don’t know me?”.

You laughed lightly, sitting up beside him and stretching your arms. “I’m getting pretty good at it by now”, you teased, though there was a glint of mischief in your eyes.

Jensen chuckled, reaching over to pull you in for one more quick kiss. “Well, try not to look too interested when I’m up there”, he joked. “Wouldn’t want anyone to figure out our little secret”.

“Don’t worry”, you said, playfully shoving his shoulder. “I’m an expert at pretending I don’t know a thing about you”.

Jensen smirked, grabbing his clothes as he headed toward the bathroom. “Yeah, yeah. Just make sure you save some of that charm for later”.

As he disappeared into the bathroom to get ready, you sat on the edge of the bed for a moment, gathering your thoughts. You had gotten used to these moments of separation in public, but they never stopped feeling strange. Watching him perform for the fans, knowing all the little secrets that no one else knew, was both thrilling and bittersweet. But the stolen glances, the subtle moments shared between you even when no one else knew—they were worth it.

After far too many goodbye kisses, you and Jensen finally parted ways, heading out in separate directions. You hopped into a cab, making your way to the convention hotel where the event would take place. Jensen, on the other hand, drove with Jared, Cliff, and Misha, their conversation a lively backdrop to the start of the day’s activities.

You arrived at the venue and found your seat in the front row, taking a deep breath and preparing yourself for another day of observing from a distance. The anticipation in the room built as the crowd settled in, their excitement palpable. Soon, the cast was introduced, and the stage was set for Jensen’s appearance.

As Jensen took to the stage, the crowd erupted into cheers. He looked confident and relaxed, his charismatic smile lighting up the room as he thanked everyone for coming. The energy in the hall was electric, the fans clearly thrilled to see him and his co-stars.

Just as Jensen was beginning a bit of small talk, the host of the convention stepped onto the stage with an excited look. “We have a little surprise for you all!”, she announced, her voice brimming with enthusiasm. “Please welcome our special guest!”.

Jensen’s smile faltered slightly as he looked over at Jared, who appeared just as puzzled as the rest of the cast. The confusion was mirrored by the other cast members, all of them exchanging glances, clearly not expecting whatever was about to unfold. The energy in the room shifted slightly, curiosity and anticipation buzzing through the crowd.

And then, Danneel stepped onto the stage with a confident, almost smug grin, waving to the fans with a practiced ease. She was met with excited cheers from the crowd, her presence clearly a surprise to everyone, especially Jensen. His brow furrowed for a brief moment as he tried to process the unexpected turn of events, his eyes flickering with surprise as she made her way toward him.

“Hey, everyone!”, Danneel greeted warmly, waving at the crowd before turning her attention to Jensen. Without missing a beat, she wrapped her arms around him and pressed a kiss to his lips. The gesture was affectionate but carried an air of performance, as if she was putting on a show for the fans as much as for Jensen.

The crowd erupted into applause and cheers at the sight of them together, completely oblivious to the tension that rippled beneath the surface. For a brief moment, Jensen hesitated, his smile faltering again before he quickly recovered, offering a somewhat awkward smile in return. He responded to the kiss lightly, his arms loosely wrapping around her before they separated.

“Danneel”, Jensen said, his voice carrying that same mix of surprise and composure. “Didn’t expect to see you here”.

She smiled up at him, still holding onto his arm as she addressed the crowd. “Well, I couldn’t resist surprising everyone, especially my husband”, she said, her tone playful but with an edge that seemed to linger just beneath the surface.

Jared, standing off to the side with Misha, shot Jensen a look—one that conveyed both curiosity and a subtle question about how to handle the situation. Jensen gave a barely perceptible shrug, clearly trying to roll with the surprise without letting the tension show.

As the scene unfolded on stage, Jensen cast a quick glance toward you in the audience. His eyes met yours for just a brief moment, and you could see the flash of vulnerability and apology in his gaze. It was a look that spoke volumes, even if it was fleeting.

You bit your lip, trying to control the flood of emotions that threatened to overwhelm you. The sight of Jensen and Danneel together, so publicly affectionate, was a harsh reminder of the complexities of your situation. The sting of watching him kiss her, knowing how close you had been just hours before, felt like a sharp jab to your heart.

Blinking rapidly to clear the tears threatening to spill, you forced yourself to look down at your lap. The last thing you wanted was for anyone to notice something. You took deep, steadying breaths, focusing on the quiet, rhythmic inhalation and exhalation to ground yourself in the present moment.

The crowd’s cheers and applause continued to fill the space, a stark contrast to the quiet storm of emotions you were battling internally. You could hear Danneel's voice carrying over the mic as she engaged with the audience, her demeanor cheerful and relaxed, while Jensen maintained his composure, though the strain was evident in the slight furrow of his brow.

Despite your best efforts to maintain a neutral expression, a tear managed to escape and slip down your cheek. You quickly wiped it away. You knew you had to stay strong and focused, no matter how much it hurt to see Jensen with someone else so publicly.

The moment of intimacy between Jensen and Danneel seemed to stretch on, but eventually, the focus shifted back to the panel discussion.

As the discussion continued, you tried to focus on the topics being discussed, the cast's interactions, and the excitement of the fans around you. But the image of Jensen and Danneel’s kiss, the brief glance he had given you, and the pain of the situation were never far from your thoughts.

You reminded yourself that this was just another chapter in a complicated story. And as much as it hurt, you had to keep your head high and play your part. For now, all you could do was be patient, knowing that there would be moments when the truth would have a chance to emerge, and that until then, you would navigate this world with as much grace and resilience as you could muster.

As the opening drew to a close and the cast members began to leave the stage, you quickly slipped out of the room, desperate for fresh air. The weight of the morning’s events pressed heavily on your chest, and you needed a moment to clear your head, to breathe.

Outside, the cool air hit your face, providing some relief from the tension that had built up inside you. You found a quiet spot away from the crowds, leaning against a wall as you took slow, deep breaths, trying to regain control over your emotions. The pain still lingered, but at least out here, you could be alone with it.

Meanwhile, in the green room, the atmosphere was far from calm. Jensen had quickly pulled Danneel aside as soon as the others had left, his expression a mix of frustration and anger. He kept his voice low, but the intensity of his emotions was clear.

“What the hell are you doing here, Danneel?”, Jensen demanded, his eyes narrowing as he tried to maintain some semblance of calm. “You just show up, unannounced, and put on a show like that? What were you thinking?”.

Danneel crossed her arms over her chest, her eyes flashing with anger as she met his gaze. “What am I doing here?”, she shot back, her voice tight with barely controlled emotion. “You’re seriously asking me that after you had the nerve to send me divorce papers in the mail three days ago, without so much as a phone call? You think I’m just going to take that lying down?”.

Jensen ran a hand through his hair, frustration evident in the way he sighed. “Danneel, we’ve talked about this—”.

“We haven’t talked about anything, Jensen!”, she interrupted, her voice rising slightly before she forced herself to lower it. “You’ve been distant for months, and then you just drop those papers on me without a conversation, without even trying to work things out?”.

Jensen shook his head, his own anger simmering just beneath the surface. “We both know it’s been over for a long time, Danneel. I just made it official”.

Danneel’s eyes narrowed as she stared at Jensen, her anger morphing into something deeper and more personal. “Over for a long time?”, she echoed, her voice dripping with scorn. “Is that how you justify this? You think just because you’ve decided it’s over, it’s easy for me? You’ve always had this way of dismissing everything that doesn’t suit you”.

Jensen’s jaw tightened. “I’m not dismissing anything. I’ve tried to be clear about where I stand. But you keep making everything more complicated, turning it into a spectacle”.

Danneel’s expression hardened. “Complicated? You mean like how you’ve been stringing me along while you’ve been off having your fun? I don’t think you’ve even stopped to consider how this impacts me”.

Jensen’s patience snapped, the months of tension and unresolved emotions finally boiling over. His eyes flashed with anger as he leaned closer, his voice low and sharp, cutting through the air like a knife. "I don't fucking care anymore, Danneel", he hissed. "I'm done with this—done with you. I've been patient, I've tried to handle this like an adult, but you keep pushing and dragging this out. I'm tired of it".

Danneel’s eyes widened, momentarily taken aback by the force of his words. But instead of backing down, she straightened up, her expression hardening into something colder, more calculating. She crossed her arms over her chest and looked him dead in the eyes, her voice dropping into a dangerous whisper. "You really think you can just walk away from me that easily, Jensen? Think again".

Jensen’s eyes narrowed. "What are you talking about?".

She leaned in, her tone dripping with venom. "I know things about you—things that would ruin your precious image, your career. You think the fans would love to hear about the real Jensen? About how you've been acting like the perfect family man while sneaking around with someone else?".

Jensen’s fists clenched at his sides, anger boiling in his chest. “Don’t you dare”, he warned, his voice low and dangerous. “Don’t drag other people into this just because you’re bitter”.

Danneel smiled, though there was nothing kind in it. "Oh, Jensen, this isn’t just about bitterness. It’s about survival. You think you can cut me off and leave me with nothing? I have ways of making sure you regret that decision".

Jensen stepped back, disgust clear on his face. “You think threatening me is going to change anything? You’re only proving exactly why this marriage needed to end”.

Danneel’s expression darkened, her eyes flashing with barely controlled rage. "You just watch yourself, Jensen. You may think you're done with me, but I'm not done with you. And I will make sure you remember that".

Without another word, she turned on her heel and stormed out of the room, leaving Jensen standing there, his chest heaving with anger and frustration. The green room felt suddenly too small, too suffocating, the weight of the confrontation pressing down on him.

He ran a hand over his face, trying to steady himself. This was far from over, and he knew it. But despite the threats, despite the bitterness that lingered in the air, one thing was clear: he wasn’t going back. He was done with Danneel and the toxic cycle they had been trapped in for so long. Now, he just had to figure out how to navigate the storm that was undoubtedly coming.

Jensen hurriedly left the green room, his heart pounding as the weight of the confrontation with Danneel bore down on him. He needed to find a quiet spot, away from the chaos of the convention, to call you and make sure you were okay. He knew that morning had been rough on you, and after what just happened with Danneel, he couldn’t bear to think of you out there, hurting and feeling alone.

Finding a secluded corner near the back of the convention center, he pulled out his phone and quickly dialed your number. As the phone rang, he leaned against the wall, running a hand through his hair, his mind racing with everything that had transpired.

Meanwhile, outside, you were sitting on a bench tucked away from the bustling crowds, trying your hardest to control the tears that kept threatening to spill over. You felt ridiculous—like a teenager whose heart had been broken for the first time. But no matter how hard you tried, the image of Jensen and Danneel on stage together, the kiss, the public display, and everything it symbolized wouldn’t leave your mind.

The sound of your phone vibrating in your lap pulled you from your thoughts. You looked down and saw Jensen’s name on the screen. For a moment, you hesitated, not wanting him to hear the crack in your voice or to know how deeply this had affected you.

Taking a deep breath, you answered the call, trying to keep your voice steady. “Hey”.

Jensen’s voice came through the line immediately, soft but filled with concern. “Hey, where are you? Are you okay?”.

You swallowed hard, willing your voice not to break. “I’m outside… just needed some air”.

“I figured”, Jensen said gently, his voice calming you even through the phone.

Jensen could hear the strain in your voice, the telltale signs that you had been crying, and his heart broke even more. His mind raced as he tried to find the right words to make you feel better, but all that came out was a soft, regretful murmur. “I’m so sorry, baby”, he whispered, his voice thick with guilt. “I had no idea she would show up. If I’d known… I never would’ve let you be blindsided like that”.

You closed your eyes, letting his apology sink in, but the hurt was still there, lingering beneath the surface. “I know”, you whispered back, trying to keep the emotion from spilling over again. “It just… it caught me off guard, you know?”.

“I know”, Jensen replied quietly, leaning back against the wall, running a hand over his face. “She blindsided me too. I had no idea she’d pull something like that, especially here. I’m handling it, I promise. I just… I hate that this hurt you. It’s the last thing I wanted”.

You nodded, though he couldn’t see it. The frustration and sadness still tugged at your heart, but his sincerity offered you a bit of comfort. “It’s just hard seeing you with her”, you admitted. “I know it’s complicated, and I know you’re doing what you can, but seeing it in person… it just felt real in a way I wasn’t prepared for”.

Jensen’s voice softened even more, his tone soothing as he tried to ease your pain. “I get that”, he said.

Jensen paused, his words catching in his throat as he considered what he needed to say next. He hated to put more strain on you, especially after everything that had already happened that morning, but he knew he couldn’t avoid the truth.

“Look”, he began quietly, his tone tinged with regret, “Danneel… she’s going to be here all day. Every panel, the photo ops, everything. She’s going to make a show of it, and I can’t stop her”.

Jensen sighed heavily over the phone, the sound of his frustration and regret palpable through the line. He hated saying it, but he couldn’t deny the reality of the situation. “You’d better go”, he mumbled, his voice filled with reluctance. “I don’t want you to be here for all this… you don’t need to see what’s going to happen. I can’t stop her from making a scene, and I don’t want you to sit there and hurt because of it”.

His words stung, even though you knew he was trying to protect you. You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath as you let his advice sink in. The thought of watching Danneel make her presence known all day, draping herself over Jensen in front of hundreds of fans, was something you didn’t think you could bear. It wasn’t just the public display—it was the emotional toll it would take on you to sit there, pretending like it didn’t bother you.

“Okay”, you whispered, your voice barely above a breath. You understood why he was asking this of you, but it still hurt to hear him say it out loud. “I’ll go”.

Jensen exhaled sharply, relief tinged with guilt in his voice. “Thank you”, he said softly. “I wish it didn’t have to be like this. I just don’t want you to be in the middle of it. Let me deal with Danneel. We’ll talk after, okay?”.

“Yeah”, you replied, your voice shaky but resolute. “We’ll talk after”.

There was a brief silence between you, a shared understanding hanging in the air. Jensen could hear the emotion in your voice, and it broke his heart to be the cause of your pain. “I’m sorry”, he whispered, his voice thick with guilt. “I’m so sorry”.

“It’s not your fault”, you replied, your tone soft but firm.

You paused for a moment, gathering your thoughts as you tried to push the sadness from your voice. “See you later, Jensen”, you mumbled softly, the words carrying a heaviness you couldn’t shake.

Jensen was silent for a moment, as if trying to find the right words to say, but all he could manage was a quiet, “Yeah… see you later”. His voice was filled with regret and something deeper—an ache that mirrored your own.

You ended the call, the silence afterward feeling even heavier than before. For a few moments, you just sat there, staring at your phone, trying to steady your emotions. This wasn’t how you envisioned the day going—being asked to leave instead of staying by his side. But you knew Jensen was only trying to protect you, even if it meant putting more distance between you two, for now.

With a deep breath, you turned and began walking away from the convention center. The sounds of the bustling crowd faded as you found your way outside, the fresh air hitting your face and offering a small measure of relief.

Despite everything, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this wasn’t over. Danneel’s unexpected appearance, the spectacle she was determined to make, and Jensen’s desire to protect you from it—it all hung in the air like a storm cloud, threatening to burst at any moment.

As the time for Jensen and now also Danneel’s panel approached, the atmosphere in the convention center was charged with excitement.

When Jensen and Danneel finally appeared on stage, the audience greeted them with enthusiastic applause. Danneel took full advantage of the spotlight, her performance polished and deliberate. She was dressed elegantly, her smile bright and engaging as she took Jensen’s hand and led him to the center of the stage.

“Thank you so much, everyone”, Danneel said, her voice carrying a warm, charming tone. “We’re thrilled to be here today".

Jensen smiled beside her, though there was a tension in his posture that he struggled to hide. He glanced at Danneel, his expression a mix of discomfort and resignation.

During the panel, fans began to line up at the microphones placed in the aisles, ready to ask their questions. Jensen did his best to focus on the fans, his usual warm smile returning whenever he engaged with them, but Danneel was quick to interject at every opportunity.

A young woman at the mic smiled nervously as she asked, “Jensen, what’s your favorite part about being a dad?”.

Jensen began to answer, his smile softening as he thought about his kids. “Honestly, it’s the little things—watching them grow, seeing their personalities develop—”.

Danneel cut in with a laugh, placing her hand on his arm. “And he’s such a hands-on dad! He’s always making breakfast for the kids, organizing family game nights, and he’s so good at helping with homework. Our kids are so lucky to have him”.

Jensen chuckled awkwardly, nodding along. “Yeah, I try to be there for them as much as I can”.

Another fan stepped up to ask a question. “Danneel, do you ever surprise Jensen with something romantic?”.

Danneel beamed, not missing a beat. “Oh, absolutely! We’re always surprising each other. Just the other week, I planned a weekend getaway for the two of us—some much-needed alone time away from the kids. We spent the whole weekend reconnecting, just the two of us”.

Jensen shifted uncomfortably in his chair, his smile tight. “Yeah, that was… a nice break”.

Danneel kept going, her voice brimming with enthusiasm. “And Jensen is always finding little ways to show he cares. Just last month, he surprised me with breakfast in bed and handwritten notes. He’s just so thoughtful”.

The fans reacted with awe, some letting out quiet “aww”s at her words. Jensen’s expression faltered slightly, but he quickly recovered, nodding and offering a tight smile.

As Danneel continued weaving her narrative of their perfect life, Jensen’s discomfort only grew. He tried his best to mask it with smiles and small laughs, keeping up appearances. After all, he was an actor, and he’d perfected the art of putting on a show when needed. But this—being caught in a web of half-truths and outright fabrications—made his stomach twist.

“And for our last anniversary, Jensen planned this whole elaborate surprise. He rented out a cozy little cabin in the mountains.. and it was so romantic. Candlelit dinners, stargazing by the fire… It was perfect”.

Jensen’s smile froze on his face. He hadn’t rented any cabin, hadn’t planned anything of the sort. In fact, their last anniversary had been quiet, strained even, as they tried to navigate the growing distance between them. But he couldn’t correct her in front of the fans. Instead, he swallowed his discomfort and nodded along, hoping to get through the panel without further confrontation.

“Sounds magical”, one fan commented dreamily, causing others in the audience to murmur in agreement.

Jensen chuckled, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Yeah, I do what I can”, he said, his tone light, but there was an edge of tension to it.

Danneel beamed at him, leaning closer as she addressed the audience again. “We really do try to keep the romance alive. It’s not always easy with kids and busy schedules, but we make it work. That’s the key—making time for each other”.

The audience seemed enthralled by the picture-perfect image she was painting, and Jensen felt the weight of it pressing down on him. He knew the reality was far from what she was describing, and each word felt like another step deeper into the façade she was so determined to maintain.

Another fan stepped up to the microphone, an older woman with a kind smile. “Jensen, it’s clear you and Danneel have a strong relationship. What advice would you give to couples trying to balance careers and family?”.

Jensen paused for a moment, carefully considering his response. He couldn’t very well continue the charade, but he also didn’t want to undermine Danneel in front of a room full of fans. He glanced briefly at Danneel, who was looking at him expectantly.

“Balance is tricky”, Jensen began slowly, choosing his words carefully. “It’s all about communication, really. Making sure that you’re on the same page and supporting each other through the ups and downs. It’s not always perfect… and sometimes, it takes a lot of work”.

Danneel quickly chimed in, her smile never faltering. “Exactly! And Jensen is so great at communicating, especially when things get tough. We always make sure to talk things out and find a way to support each other, no matter what”.

Jensen forced another tight smile, internally bracing himself. It was becoming harder and harder to keep up the act. The tension between him and Danneel, the unresolved issues, and the lies being spun on stage—it was all starting to wear on him.

———————————

A/N: Please let me know what you think.🥰

-

Part 25

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Taglist: @cheynovak @chriszgirl92 @jenniferr0323 @angelbabyyy99 @cevansbaby-dove @muhahaha303 @jackles010378 @suckitands33 @n-o-p-e-never @mayafatimakhan @ladysparkles78 @viviandarkbloom06 @jassackles @evasmlp @acklesaddict67 @mostlymarvelgirl @emma1998sblog @mishaesque @headinthemoon87 @hobby27 @winchesterwild78 @impala67rollingthroughtown @manicjk @kr804573 @zaratahir @djs8891 @winchesterwild78 @jamerlynn @whimsyfinny @libby99hb @deansimpalababy @deans-queen @kawaii-arfid-memes @faephoria @stoneyggirl2 @fitxgrld @luvr4miya @yikeschoices @lyssalvus @soab1967 @luvr4miya @didi0666 @impala67rollingthroughtown @cheekygirl2309

[causewayguy]

Pics courtesy of a fellow follower

************************

You folks know how Chinese parents like to have sons instead of daughters? They will always go 'Son good', 'Son carries our family name', 'Son is better'. But there is always one very special reason most fathers want a son for, and for me, her name is Charlotte.

Charlotte is my son’s latest girlfriend. They have been together for close to 1 year now and Charlotte has recently begun to stay over. Since my wife passed many years back, having another woman in the house was super exciting - FBTs, tank-tops, thin shirts, pokies, nip slips, etc. And all these from a hot piece of ass! Charlotte was becoming my main masturbation material.

One Saturday, I was home alone while my son and Charlotte went on their date. While scrolling through Insta, I came across Charlotte’s IG story; a selfie in my son’s bedroom and a side profile picture, with her jeans showing off her juicy ass. Suddenly, an evil thought came over me and I quickly went into their room, searching for something….viola! Charlotte’s lace panties. I started jerking off with her panties while eye-fucking her IG pictures. Before long, I cum all over her white panties. An eviller idea came to mind. I folded and placed her panties on the top of the pile, hoping my fantasy would come true tomorrow.

The next morning, I woke up at the first ring of my alarm and quickly went to the living room, as Charlotte always cooks breakfast for us. There she was. She smiled and greeted me then continued cooking her scrambled eggs. Not sure which Buddha answered my prayers as a piece of egg fell on the floor and Charlotte bends down to clean it up. My eyes widen in happiness, Charlotte was wearing the panties from last night, filled with my cum! I dashed back to my room to take care of the hardening boner, and came 3 times in just 15 minutes, thinking of what had happened and what can I do further in future.

Few weeks later, the 3 of us went on a family trip. I have been busy with work and had no time to masturbate so my balls are completely full. And Charlotte being on this trip certainly helped. At the pier we visited, I imagined the wind blowing her hair back as she sucks me off in her tight tank-top and jeans. I imagined fucking her against the wall of the art museum we visited, as though she was one of art pieces for everyone to enjoy. And finally, I imagined titty fucking her fantastic C-cuppers exposed through the gap of her black top and spray my cum all over Charlotte’s face as my son was in the shower. If the trip lasted longer than a week, I would have suffered dehydration from masturbating too much to Charlotte.

However, the best was yet to come. My son can never handle his alcohol well, so usually takes an Uber whenever he and Charlotte go drinking. One night, Charlotte ringed me well past midnight. It turned out my son was so wasted that no Uber was willing to take them home. I was fuming as I had to drive all the way down to Clarke Quay to pick them up. However, my heart melted as I saw Charlotte standing there, looking all defeated as my drunk son leaned his entire weight on her.

On our way home, Charlotte apologized over and over again to me but I just smiled at her, brushing it off. What I was actually doing was stealing glances at her deep cleavage from her wraparound white top. In her tipsy state, Charlotte began complaining about work, about friends, about my son drinking too much, about how he was not satisfying her enough. The more she complained, the more body movement she made and well, the more her boobs jiggle.

Hornnnnnnn! I was so mesmerized by her boobs that I did not notice a red light and the oncoming traffic horned. On instinct, I struck out an arm while hitting the brakes, trying to protect Charlotte from falling forward. But this meant that her front body fell onto my outstretched arm.

‘Uncle are you oka- Ahhhh…’ Charlotte moaned as she finally felt my hand on her boobs. I was high on adrenaline from the near miss, so when my hand was on the boobs of my masturbation fantasy, I just squeezed. When I realized what I have done, my cock also started to rise in my shorts. I tried to pull my hand away but Charlotte kept my hand there while she stuck her other hand between her legs. Her face was filled with CFM expression. ‘Please Uncle…don’t stop now…’

Without thinking, I sped home with one hand on the wheel and the other hand ‘servicing’ Charlotte. Alternating between both boobs, I managed to peel off Charlotte’s nipple stickers and started tuning her rock hard nipples. My car was filled with erotic female moans as well as the squishing sounds of something wet. My rock-hard boner was now like another gearstick that Charlotte groped at. I felt her pumping my cock to the rhythm of the squishing sounds between her legs, adding my moans to the already erotic surround sound in the car.

Within minutes, my car was safely parked in my garage, with me fucking Charlotte over the bonnet, pulling her golden long hair.

I could feel every inch of Charlotte’s pussy as I thrusted my cock into her. I could see her boobs bouncing out of that white top of hers. I quickly grabbed them and started to pump into her faster and harder. Charlotte’s face was filled with lust and her tongue hanging out, drooling and moaning.

I started becoming the devil again.

Me: ‘Who is bigger??’

Charlotte: ‘Uncle bigger~!’

Me: ‘Who is better??’

Charlotte: ‘Uncle better~!’

Me: ‘Who are you??’

Charlotte: ‘I am your slut, Uncle… Don’t stop!!!’

I could feel her pussy clamping on my cock as she cum but I couldn’t stop. Not yet. With my cock still inside her, I walked (dragged) her over to the back door and opened it. Still weak from her big orgasm, Charlotte leaned forward above my drunk son with her hair flowing down to my son's face. Now, I continued to fuck her harder, right above my son!

Me: ‘Who is the guy in front of you, you slut?’

Charlotte: ‘M….my boyfriend…’

Upon hearing her answer, I pulled out immediately, leaving my cock head barely touching her pussy.

Me: ‘Again, who is he??’

Charlotte: ‘Nnooo, he’s nobody! Don’t stop plea-uuuhhhhhhh’

Charlotte whimpered loudly as I thrusted my full length into her without warning. Watching her moaned right at her boyfriend’s face while his father’s cock penetrating her from the back was too much for me. I emptied my weeks’ worth of cum into her pussy raw, triggering Charlotte’s second big orgasm. Charlotte was so fucked that she fell onto my son, panting and shaking.

We rested for a bit (and me taking a mental picture of this scene) and I carried Charlotte up to my bedroom where we made some more loving before finally dozing off in exhaustion.

One year later…

Buzz, buzzz

I received a photo from Charlotte with the caption:

‘Dear, your son passed out from drinking again. 😊 Managed to get him drunk every night of our honeymoon. But now I am super horny le… Lucky I brought the bra with your cum stain with me. Sniffed it while I masturbated last night 😉. Will wear to on the flight back to SG later too. See you soon! xoxo Charlotte’

Thank you, Son, for the world’s best daughter-in-law.

[kiss-me-muchoo]

𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 || 𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐎’𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

part one: hurt me, it’s okay || part two: here

summary_ Spiderman and Spiderwoman from earth 1610 met by casuality, she goes back to the Spider Society, reunites with Miguel and while he debates telling her she’s in his canon events, Spiderwoman makes a decision, to help Miles Morales.

warnings_ age gap! (8/9 years), angst, not a lot of scenes with Miguel, slight canon divergence

note_ listen to my playlist for Miguel!!!!! (Proofreading this later)

♪ ♫ My Miguel O’Hara playlist ✰ Index (+ fics here)

𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆ 𓆇🕸️𓆸⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆ 𓆇🕸️𓆸⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆ 𓆇🕸️𓆸

Time healed everything for sure. A prolonged smile rests on your face as you walk through the streets of Brooklyn, New York. Summer is around the corner and you are visiting the state with your parents. But you decided to take an afternoon walk after dinner with them. As the weeks progressed, soon they turned into two months. Deep inside your heart, you resented most of your past. But you did your best to let go of the pain, to forgive Gwen, Jess, Peter, and Miguel.

Some nights you went to sleep with him in your thoughts, wondering if he’d also be thinking of you. Perhaps he cared for you and he sent you home for your security, but… he was so cold, so indifferent towards you. Which only confirmed… it was only you who felt everything.

Either way, many things had happened. In two months, you have changed a lot. You grew quieter, reserved, and slightly insecure. The spiderwoman suit was left behind at the back of your closet. But something told you to bring it to your New York trip.

One thing’s sticking to you, of what Miguel said to you once, about never being ready to assume the role of being a spider. You immediately learned it after losing your best friend.

You got scared, hands covered in blood, sirens quickly approaching the scene, your friend whispering to you to go, that it was going to be fine, to keep going. But the trauma only made you grow mixed feelings towards your abilities.

Till the day you realized you were capable of opening portals and traveling across dimensions without a gizmo. Like a ghost moving through dimensions, you started doing your job. Remembering your best friend’s words; you kept going.

The temporary barrier you made for your earth was still holding you back, secure from your past, working on the present. Earth - 1610 already had a Spiderman, so their Spiderwoman would serve outside. As soon as the barrier was broken, you knew it was a matter of time before they came for you. And you knew well, if they came, it was because things were going bad.

But for now, you are having a break.

Your smooth steps are calmed and you are feeling relaxed. The city is extremely crowded and you realize how different it is from California. But your gaze lands on something that reminds you of home; a pastelería. As you read they have conchas, elotitos, mantecado, and more, the smell invades you.

Your smile grows bigger as you step closer, and before you can even try to open the door of the place, someone opens it from inside.

“fuck…” you grunt as you feel the impact of the door in your nose.

“Oh no, I’m so sorry, I’m in a rush and…” When you look up, you see a kid well, a teenager, who’s taller than you.

Your spider senses connect with him.

“You’re like me…” says the boy.

“You’re the Spiderwoman from California. I thought it wasn’t real!” you frown at him, then slowly nodding.

“And you’re Spiderman too… How old are you?” He’s wearing an oversized jacket, and he holds two boxes of cake.

“I’m fifteen. And you? How long have you been Spiderwoman? Why aren’t you surprised? Why there have been three Spider-people on this earth?”

“Woah, boy, those are too many questions in one sentence. I’m y/n, I was bitten three months ago and I’m twenty, by the way” he nods, looking at the boxes in his hand before looking at you again.

“I’m Miles, and I’m running late. Come with me, please”

“I’m a stranger”

“Oh please, you don’t meet spider people every day,” Miles says and you sigh, remembering you used to be part of the Spider Society.

“I can’t just follow you. Besides, Where?”

“My home. It’s my father’s celebration, he’s getting promoted, he’s a cop” You nod, but still unsure, feeling your nose throb and knowing you have to go back to the hotel with your parents.

“That’s nice, but they don’t know me, neither you do.”

“Please, I bet you don’t have anyone else to talk to about this?” you used to have many people. You fell in love with one of those. But now, Miles is right, so you nod, agreeing with him.

“Just say that you used to study with me at Visions Academy” You nod, feeling that it wasn’t a good idea to go with the kid, but it felt correct.

“Fine, but I won’t stay long enough” the boy smiles, feeling very happy and confused about meeting you.

So to his home, it’s rushed. Miles tells you that he fought a very strange villain that morning, a man who had spots all over his body. He also shares that he’s having some trouble with keeping his secret from his parents.

By the time you arrive at his apartment complex, you realize maybe it wasn’t that much of a bad idea to follow him.

…

For a long time, you had stopped caring about being alone in random places. But Miles had a tough argument with his parents and there you were left in the party where you were the stranger. You ignore the curious looks of the attendants, eyes locked on the two tables full of Puerto Rican food. You grab two alcapurias and after the taste of one, you realize they are to die for. The party is very pretty despite the awkward moment where Miles bolted away after the fight.

“Hi!… Miles said he brought an old friend from school, you are…” Startled, when you turn, you encounter Rio, the mother of Miles.

“I’m y/n” You are beyond embarrassed, with your mouth full of food and sweaty hands.

“Right, y/n. ¿Y hablas español?” Rio asks, her arched brow lets you know she’s judging, but thankfully you will make her happy.

“Así es, mi familia y yo somos chicanos, de California. And I’m so sorry for intruding like this, Mrs. Morales” The woman’s smile grows and you swear she wants to hug you.

“Oh, that’s amazing. You are unlike that other friend of Miles… Wanda. You can call me Rio” You nod, accepting her hand to shake. But all you can think about is that name… you have heard it before.

“And don’t get me wrong, Miles said you were older and you look responsible… but… please be honest with me” You leave the now empty plate on the table because the woman seemed to be serious.

“Is Miles in trouble? Because… he’s been very… difficult. He skips classes, lies to us, and-“

“He’s a good boy. I promise, he loves his parents and wants to make them happy. But he’s under pressure. I promise, Rio, he’s a good boy” Despite meeting Miles two hours ago, you know he’s good. You know he wants to do well, and you know what it is to be hiding your spider persona from your loved ones.

Rio nods, offering a little smile.

“I’m really glad to meet you. I’ll let you go now, pero que sepas que eres bienvenida siempre que quieras” you smile, feeling how good of a mother Rio was. So you nod, waving at her as she walks away.

“Gracias, Rio. Y la comida está riquísima!” she giggles, waving back at you, finally disappearing from your view.

Soon you turned to the food again, now it was time for dessert, which made you get lost and only pay attention to the food. When you look up, you see that the sky has started changing. It was getting very late, so you let your parents know you were still shopping and soon, that’s when you realized you hadn’t seen Miles since he fought with his parents.

You start looking around, the music is still playing and the party is alive. You start moving around when you bump into someone. The person holds you steady with very little pressure, preventing you from tripping or so.

“Woah, sorry… wait, y/n?” A female voice asks, when you raise your gaze, you are shocked. There is Gwen.

“Do you know each other?” Miles asks behind Gwen.

You panic, you panic. So you do what you best do, to bolt.

“I need to go, you know my number, Miles. You can call me whenever you want”

“Wait, y/n…” Miles calls you but you are already gone.

Gwen reveals that you worked in the Spider Society. Miles was a bit angered with you for never reaching out to him. But Gwen also shared that you had been Spiderwoman for less than three months, that you had entered the society and she as your friend, failed you as the others too. And lastly, you had a tough story with Miguel O’Hara.

Miles understood you. And he followed Gwen after she left.

…

You are going back to your hotel with your parents when a hand pulls you to an alley, it is Gwen again. Now with her suit on.

“Oh my god, y/n, it’s you!” She takes off her mask and runs to hug you. And as much as you want to push her away, you hug her back.

“I missed you so much. We all miss you” She looks very excited to see you. And you want to say that you missed her too, but you’re proud and stubborn, so you don’t.

“Why are you here, Gwen? And why do you know Miles?”

“A lot has happened. I promise to tell you everything, but please come back. For now, there’s this anomaly that I need to catch” he shows you her gizmo, and the little hologram of a white creature with dark spots appears.

“That’s the villain Miles mentioned earlier”

“And how do you know him? You said you didn’t know who was the other spider man from this earth” you sigh.

“I met him like three hours ago”

“You need to come back. Miguel was checking daily to see if the temporary barrier you made was broken. You really really need to talk with him” Rolling your eyes, you hear her. But deep inside, you are dying to know everything, every little detail.

“Gwen, I won’t lie that it didn’t hurt me what happened. I felt betrayed. But now I’m happy with the life I have. Despite everything… I’m trying to move on” You don’t have the heart to tell her that you resent everyone a little, that you don’t need a gizmo to travel and save people from other dimensions. And you won’t tell her that as much as Miss Miguel, you won’t give him the satisfaction to go back.

“I’m begging you, y/n. We need you…” suddenly, the tiny hologram of Lyla appears and starts moving around you; smiling.

“OH MY GOD, Y/N!!!, YOU’RE HERE, MIGUEL IS GOING TO FREAK OUT… but don’t tell him I revealed that” You find the humor in her words, so you giggle.

“Hello, Lyla. I love your new glasses” she winks.

“Gee thanks, I also love your new hair”

“Yeah, it’s longer.” Gwen agrees with the AI.

“You’re coming with us, right?” Lyla asks, making you sigh.

“I will accompany Gwen to capture the anomaly, but I won’t go back to the HQ if that’s what you two are inquiring” you calmly say, walking beside a trash can to take your suit, perfectly folded inside your purse.

“You have to be kidding. Besides what happened with Miguel, Hobie, Ben, Pavitr, Penny, Noir, Jess and everyone misses you a great deal. You were a very popular spider, you know?”

“Yeah, Miguel is my problem. I deeply resent him and I’m not afraid to admit it” you reveal.

“I swear he wants you back. He has a lot to say to you, Would you come back just to… At least listen to him?… we have a life or death situation growing as the Spot is out there free” Lyla fires back. You shrug, not thinking clearly before slowly nodding.

There are so many things to think about, but you have already nodded.

“I-… I’ll go, but you have to let him know. I don’t want an awkward reunion” Gwen nods excitedly, and Lyla also nods.

“Great, I’ll tell him. Now go, Miguel won’t be happy with you Gwen” and then, the AI disappears.

Oh man, what have you agreed to?

…

To say you had the eyes of the whole world on you, was exaggerated. But at least the eyes of every single spider at the HQ, we’re looking at you.

Some stare, some greet you with enthusiasm and others offer confused smiles. When you arrived in Mumbattan with Gwen, Pavitr gave you a huge hug and didn’t let you go for many seconds. And when Hobie appeared, as the man of few words you knew he was, still shocked you with a long pat on the shoulder and admittedly said he missed you.

“This is so cool, I can’t believe you quit” Miles whispered to you. The teenager also appeared on Pavitr’s earth and you were highly impressed by his abilities.

“They kicked me out” you revealed, Miles looked surprised and Jess heard you, but you avoided her gaze. Back from Mumbattan to the HQ, Jessica rarely spoke to you. Instead, you spent the time with Miles, who had so many questions; and you wished you could just blurt out everything, but you wouldn’t.

“You don’t know the whole story, y/n,” Gwen said, joining the conversation.

“I think I pretty much know most of it. That’s enough…” while you didn’t pretend to sound so cold, you did.

“Please have patience with Miguel. But listen to him…” Jess also adds, you only eye her, but you don’t say anything else, you just nod.

It was at that moment that you realized how freaked out you were to meet Miguel again.

“For sure, Jessica. Just like he listened to me the last time I saw him” the woman looks down with remorse, but you don’t see it because you turn back at the way that Gwen leads.

Everyone can sense that while you are being respectful, there was bad blood running through every corner and step you were taking.

Miles thought you were very bright and sweet, but once you entered the portal and stepped inside the HQ of the Spider Society, your demeanor changed, showing you bitterly defensive and cold.

“Here we are…” Gwen says pushing a button that opens what you remember being Miguel’s office.

“I need a minute…” you say staying behind everyone. Only Hobie stayed beside you.

“You got this, Luv,” he says. And you love that words were not needed with Hobie, he completely understood you.

“If anything happens, you know where to stand, Hobie” he nods after entering the dark room.

You sigh, taking long breaths, mentally preparing for what is coming. It could end well, or badly.

And you had a bad feeling about it.

…

The bad feeling got worse.

Miguel couldn’t stop looking at you. He couldn’t hide the surprise on his face when he saw entering his office along with Peter B. Parker.

You can’t stand the man trying to shamelessly blame a fifteen-year-old. At some point, you know, it’s enough.

“Even if Miles hadn’t been bitten, earth-42 would have remained without a Spiderman. So don’t you dare to keep blaming him” Miguel turns, and you can see and feel he’s getting mad, but you don’t care. You couldn’t care less.

Maybe your heart cared, but your head was winning.

“It’s more complex than that, y/n.”

“Yeah, it worked out when you sent me home without telling me why” Lyla pops out around the shoulder of Miguel and looks worriedly between you and the broad man.

“Woah, Miguel, maybe you should tell her about that…” you frown, looking at the AI.

“Tell me what?”

“It doesn’t matter now, Lyla.” Your head wonders what could it mean, but you brush it away, so you turn again towards Miguel, looking at him with fury.

“I don’t need your stupid gizmo, I don’t need the Spider Society and I don’t need you, Miguel” you spit with anger and confidence, but everyone knows you actually need your friends, and that you are ignoring the feelings you had for Miguel.

“And look where your recklessness brought us. You are a threat and Miles is an anomaly”

“Most of the spiders here were recruited at their lowest points in life. You have manipulated everyone, admit it. You are forcing a narrative to achieve your assets.” His eyes shine bright with crimson anger. He wants to scream at you so bad, you know.

“Calm down, y/n… please” Jess tries to soothe the rising tension but it doesn’t work. When you look around, there’s already a lot of people, all ready to jump and attack in case of need.

“I will never stay quiet again. And to be a mother, Jess, neither you should” She lowers her gaze. You feel a little shame for her, as a grown woman who can’t seem to be able not listen to Miguel for once.

“You need to comprehend this isn’t entirely about you. This is about Miles and your constant travels causing a major disturbance in canon” Jess explains coldly, which makes you even more enraged.

“Yes, and we can save everyone. You don’t know how I’ve seen canon without the gizmo and the premonitory models” Your heart beats faster than ever, and you swear you are passing the edge of stability before collapsing into a panic attack.

“Not always we can save everyone” Peter B. Parker reminds you.

“Peter, please. Please understand me, out of everyone… I know you understand me” the man sighs, and you stare at her daughter. Peter knows it, he looks down at Mayday and knows you have a point.

“The Spot is going to destroy everything…” you almost whisper to one of your old closest friends. You have hope, that you’ll remind him. He looks at you deeply, before turning away, breaking your heart a little.

“I’m sorry, y/n. But you need to stay here” You feel Miguel’s giant hand on your shoulder, so you quickly turn, moving away, standing beside Miles. Miguel shows you he has no other intentions with his hands, he wants oh so desperately to make you understand his point, but he is blind to see or hear yours.

So in the blink of an eye, Miles and you have an obstructed view, reddish and glitchy. Both realize you have been caged, and stare at each other in panic.

Gwen and Peter jump to argue with Miguel, questioning why he had to do that.

“It’s okay, it’s okay” you whisper to Miles, who starts panicking. Hobie gets closer and you elbow Miles to see what he wants.

“Oi oi, Peter Pan. Use the hands…” you turn away, encountering Miguel, who also stares back at you.

“I hate you…” you spit with anger towards him.

“I never wanted any of this to happen, but It’s the best for our canons, only you could potentially destroy The Spot” you frown.

“Ours?…” he stays silent.

“Yes. And I’m sorry, kid” he adds, walking away with Gwen and Peter still at him complaining for caging you and Miles.

“Stop calling me that”

Your head spins, and you hear Jess, Hobie, Gwen, and Miguel speaking at the same time. But Miles has a plan, he gives you a quick look and you get it.

Smart boy.

So you nod, giving him a reassuring smile.

The electricity that envelopes his hands soon invades and infects the cage. The adrenaline keeps building up in your system. Your eyes slowly start to glow as you prepare for the impact.

Boom. The silence is scary.

Miles looks at you when you both are free from the cage.

It’ll be dangerous, very risky. But you got this

You look at how everyone starts moving after the impact. Your eyes lock with Miguel’s, and he knows you will follow the kid. And he can’t lose you again.

Don’t stop running, Miles” you tell him, he nods.

“MILES!, Y/N!” Miguel yells as soon he sees you bolt with the kid.

Time passes so fast, you don’t have time to breathe. You can’t hear what Gwen, Jess, Peter, and other spiders are trying to tell you to stay put.

“You need to hear, y/n” Peter yells. But you ignore them, and you keep running. Miles took his own route, and you realized many spiders were going after you and the teenager, you knew Miles had a plan.

“Y/n, please!” Gwen begs you, watching how you shoot a web to swing away.

As you slide through the buildings with your webs, your senses alert you. When you look back, as the wind messes with your hair and a few ones stick in your forehead, you get startled. Miguel is coming for you.

He looks incredibly intimidating, his pace is ridiculously faster than anything you have seen before.

“Shoot” you mumble before returning to keep running away. You spot Miles again, which makes you quicken your pace.

You can feel Miguel behind you, only increasing your heartbeats. There are so many things you wish you could say. So many things he could’ve done, but you remember he never loved you.

Jess can get by your side, she throws a sharp kick that you dodge successfully. But she doesn’t give up, she punches your ribs and you can tell she didn’t mean to actually hurt you, but she’s doing everything to stop you from running. Thankfully Miles gets in the way and is more than enough to give you the advantage.

Once you realize you are in an imaginary railroad that keeps going up and up, you fear the height, but seeing all the people you once considered family coming at you as if you were the biggest atomic danger, makes you want to go back in time. Being a Spiderwoman was a responsibility that you wished it never came.

“You have to stop!” You feel a hand grabbing you by the arm, and the next thing is your body getting stamped against the surface. You open your eyes to see Miguel, his mask disappears and you are only able to get a big breath under the strong gaze of his mahogany eyes.

“You won’t try to manhandle my life. You already did it once” you spit, trying to squirm away from his giant hand holding you still.

“There’s a reason…” he yells with desperation since Miles could break his webs at any second.

“WHAT IS IT THEN?” You yell back. You are tired of their secrets and claiming it was for the best but avoiding sharing the truth.

“Y/n…” Miguel is pleading, he is fighting so hard the urge to explode in anger. Just for you, he needs to keep it together.

“JUST SAY IT, MIGUEL!”

“I JUST CAN’T LOSE YOU AGAIN!” His forehead brushes yours and it weakens your heart. The physical contact is sudden but feels so right. You sigh, feeling his warmth.

You know what is right and what is wrong. You eye Miles who looks at you with fear. You will not deny you still love the man in front of you. So you embrace your free hand with his cheek. He melts into your touch, savoring the moment you lean forward, whispering into his ear.

“My feelings for you haven’t changed. But you never got me back, Miguel” you reveal, caging him with your most potent webs, putting on your mask, breaking free from his touch.

Miles nods at you, to which you only reply with a little smile. You will help him, you can feel it’s what is correct. And under a Quick Look at Miguel who seems shocked by your actions, you let yourself fall.

The prolonged free fall feels like you can breathe again, you have decided, not them. Perhaps you did not know what was that thing that everyone kept debating whether to tell you or not.

The Spiderman of 2099 doesn’t think twice. He immediately goes after you and the kid who almost deactivated his suit. Miguel is confident that he’s doing things right. He can’t risk losing more people. And he can’t risk a possible future with you. It sounded selfish, but Miguel swore to never break canon again, and it was demanding him to be happy with a partner, he couldn’t say no. Even if he was forcing it the wrong way.

Perhaps your heart still lounged to beat in the signature tune with Miguel. But one thing was for sure, you would help Miles. Even when you realized he was sent to earth-42, that you were back in New York of 1610, you would keep the promise of helping him. The Spot was about to danger everyone, but you had to try. You remember all the broken promises, the deceptions and you realize you have to keep going. Letting behind what your heart desired. Miles had to forge his own destiny, and in that way, you would forge yours too.

_____________________________

I’m so excited for my next Miguel writing. I’m mixing both option I gave in my last poll and it’s gonna be bff to lovers.

Two years ago I had a crash (I still can’t drive), last year I got The Eras Tour concert tickets and today I was notified that my associates degree has been posted.

[soapssuds]

can't even have a vacation

tf 141 x fem!reader (? not really, but if i continue this, then that is where it would lead to)

cw | blood, death, reader gets hurt, grammatical errors, reader is a u.s. citizen (and has a job as an engineer) but nothing else of reader is described, ghost gives a terrible first impression (terrible jokes too), etc.

You raised your phone to eye level, a light, little smile on your lips as you pressed on the white circle on the screen. The camera on your phone sounding out a quiet click as it snapped a picture of the view.

As a U.S. citizen who worked the day they graduated college, you were finally able to take your very first vacation. So with your newly acquired passport, your newly bought luggage, and your taste for something other than the bland walls of your overpriced apartment you turned off your electric and water so you wouldn’t get billed, handed the keys to your sister so she could watch your apartment from time to time and headed off out of the U.S. borders and across the sea.

With all the time you worked, you had managed to obtain a considerable amount of paid time off, two months’ worth, in fact, so taking advantage of that you decided to take exactly two months. The second month of your vacation having your birthday reside in which you plan to enjoy fully in some rich, extravagant hotel and restaurant.

Now, you may not be the richest person, but as an engineer, you could say that you made enough money to at least enjoy the small things.

In other words, you needed this vacation. Where have you decided to vacation to? Europe. Originally you wanted to go to Japan with your two best friends that you had since high school, but one of them is currently focusing on their Master’s program in college and the other is trying to get their nursing degree, and you? You needed the break. You felt like you would explode and disintegrate into dust if you worked another assignment for a moment longer.

Your friends were luckily understanding and even gave you some options. To be on the safe side and not to struggle as much, you decided to vacation where people spoke English. If you had your friends with you, then you would be a bit more daring and maybe visit a country with no English at all (not counting other tourists), but since you were alone, you didn’t want to risk it.

You brought your phone down then, your eyes bright with excitement as you moved out of everyone’s way a bit inside the hallway to sift through all the cool pictures you managed to take.

You were only three days into your vacation and so far everything was good.

“I am getting hungry though,” you said to yourself, “maybe I should go change out my currency in my wallet instead of using my card all the time…”

You thought it over for a moment before deciding that that was what you wanted to do and searched for the map icon on your phone. Though, before you could type out what you needed, the floor shook suddenly, violently. The force of whatever caused the shaking made both you and everyone else in the hallway of the building fall to the ground.

Your knees hit the floor rather harshly as you winced before looking up, the lights flickered on and off before you heard a door slam open down the hall. Shaking your head, you turned so that you were sitting on the floor to see where the door slam came from, only to see the people with guns come up from the stairway.

“What the-“

Before you could finish the question, there were gunshots. The sound made you flinch and duck down as everyone else around you began to scream and hastily get up to start running. Not wanting to be left to whoever started shooting, you managed to get up in your panicked state and follow the crowd. Though, before you could get far, you were pushed harshly from the side making you stumble again and fall backward. Instead of hitting the floor, however, your ass made contact with an abandoned wheelchair instead.

Huffing, you went to stand up, but before you could even move a muscle, your eyes were met with an end of a gun barrel. The mere sight of it caused you to freeze, your hands slowly coming up to raise above your head.

The man holding the gun seemed to start laughing as he called over one of his “buddies” over and started to talk to one another in a language you didn’t recognize. Then the man who still had his gun pointed at you, kicked your shoe and spoke to you. The confused look on your face gave him the answer he needed as cleared his throat.

“Little disabled girl got abandoned, huh?”

Disabled?

You looked down at the wheelchair you were in.

Oh.

You didn’t know if you should correct him or not. I mean, is it morally wrong to act disabled if it lets you live? Biting the inside of your cheek, you decided not to lie about it even if it saved your life.

“Not disabled,” you managed to say, “when I was running, I was pushed aside and fell into the chair. Before I could get up and run again, you were already pointing your gun at me.”

You didn’t know how much English the man understood, but you hoped it was enough.

The man seemed to laugh again as you spoke, “weird accent, you have. United States?”

You nodded, hands still raised.

“Poor little American. Wrong place, wrong time.”

Well, damn.

You watched as he fixed his hold on his gun and re-aimed it. The barrel of it now more center with your forehead. You didn’t realize it, but your breath became quicker, your heart running like a horse as time seemed to slow. It was like you could feel everything all at once. The sweat that started to form in your palms, the way your back started to feel cold, how your legs and knees were as tenses as logs, and the way you could feel your blood coursing through your heart as he thumped loud against your rib cage.

And just as he moved his finger to the trigger, there was another explosion catching the men off guard, a foot soon colliding with the glass window as someone broke right through it.

“Shit! They’re here already?!”

Turning his attention from you, you watched as he shifted his gun to the windows which was when you could finally hear the helicopters and see what you hoped were good guy soldiers zip lining down to the windows and breaking them open.

Bullets immediately began to fly, and this time you didn’t wait for anyone to stop you as you jumped from the wheelchair and made a beeline for the empty hallway.

You passed by a few others who got shot before you, none of them moving. You couldn’t bring yourself to look down at them as you turned a corner, but just as you did you felt a hand roughly grab you and slam you hard against the wall. An arm soon moves to pin your neck making you wince and panic. On instinct you raised your hands to try to remove the arm, but it was like trying to pry a dog’s mouth open. Impossible.

Opening your eyes, you were met with a skull mask. The mere sight of such a mask sent you in a frenzy as you thrashed harder. Bringing up one of your knees, you hit him as hard as you could in his hip. He didn’t even flinch.

Thinking of something new and as quickly as possibly, you reached for his face instead, Your right hand grabbing onto the skull plating and shifting it in hopes of blocking his view.

“Ghost, let her go! She’s a civilian!”

Just as the voice broke through and the arm that pinned your neck was gone, you had let out a sputtering cough. Both of your feet touching solid ground as you hadn’t even realized the man had lifted you.

Looking up then at who you assumed was “Ghost,” you watched as he fixed his mask. His attention back on you.

“Are you alright?”

It was someone else who spoke to you. A man, probably the same age as your father, helped you steady yourself.

“N- no,” you immediately said, “thought he was going to kill me for a second there.”

You raised your hand to your throat and immediately flinched with how tender it already was. That was definitely going to bruise.

“Your accent… American?”

You nodded.

“Why are you here?”

“Vacation. But let me say that it isn’t going to well.”

You all could hear the gunshots going off from where you just came from.

“Come with us, we’ll get you out.”

“Only if he doesn’t pin me to the wall again.”

“No promises,” quipped the man with the mask immediately causing you to make a face at him.

“Next time I’ll aim for your crotch,” you muttered, referencing to when you kneed him in the hip.

He made an amused sound, as he crossed his arms over his chest, “was that what you tried to do when you hit my hip? Cause I didn’t even feel it.”

“You-“

“Enough. Ghost can apologize later, for now we will focus on meeting up with the others and getting you out of here.”

You were tempted to ask why they weren’t going to assist with the fighting down the hall, but kept your lips shut otherwise.

“Ghost, watch our back. Missy, stay behind me.”

So, for now, with the slight pain in your neck and everywhere else, you decided to follow this man’s lead.

Yeah… definitely the worst vacation you ever had, and it doesn’t help that it’s your first vacation either.

“Try not to get pinned again,” Ghost said behind you.

“Then I’ll be sure to watch out for you.”

A part of you knew that he was only quipping at you to make the tone lighter and to maybe not make you so scared of him since he did get you pretty good, but you still kept on your toes. Wait, who even were these guys anyway?

You were so caught up in the way that they didn’t point their guns at you that you forgot to even ask them, but before you could open your mouth the man ahead of you was already prepared.

“We’re the good guys, so don’t worry. You’ll be back home in no time.”

You decided to take his word for it.

[jsprnt]

a date at the local spring fair seems to bloom your situationship into a relationship

trent alexander-arnold x reader

A/N: based on this request! Also been dyinggg to go to my local fair, so I immediately came up with this idea!! 🫶🫶 (does this photo of trent not make you weak in the knees?? 😭)

W/C: 1.804

your eyes dart to your phone screen again, reading the last text message your date sent you. he said he’d be there in a minute, so you shove your phone back into your jacket.

the fair isn’t very busy today, most likely due to it being a weekday. the weather had started picking up these past few days. gloomy, rainy winter days replaced with sunny, warm spring days.

you’d missed seeing the blue sky and the pretty, colorful flowers in the park. you had noticed most people were much happier and of course, just like the little lambs being born, symbolizing a new life- your own life seemed to also flicker to another chapter.

you and trent have known each other for a couple of months now. first meeting through a mutual friend at a small, intimate party on a rainy november night. you hadn’t thought much of it at first. of course- he was handsome, and that wasn’t something you could look away from.

you knew who he was, as a football player for one of the world’s best clubs- you’d assumed he would be too busy interacting with other people to notice you.

obviously, you also were too busy speaking to the people you did know. until- one of your mutual friends had introduced him to you.

unbeknownst to you, he’d been eyeing you across the room since he’d caught sight of the pretty smile you’d flash your friend when they said something funny. at first glance, he had almost choked on his unnecessarily expensive tequila, it burning horribly in the back of his throat.

he barely recovered from the shock before one of his best mates had dragged him across the venue, insisting he’d talk to you. only, because he thought ‘you two would be a great couple’.

you were caught off guard at first, but the looks your friends were sending you- had given you enough courage to speak to him without being flustered.

you two only hung out more after that night, accepting frequent invites to his games, and random visits to each other’s place, which only increased when trent got injured.

you look up at the shout of your name, turning around to see trent walk up to you. he’s dressed nicely as usual, comfy enough for all the rides and games you’d planned to play.

“hi!” you beam, greeted by his pearly white smile. his lips turned up when he makes eye contact with you.

“hey, you alright?” he asks, his scouser accent familiar as he gives you a warm hug. you bury your face in the crook of his neck for a moment, smelling his signature cologne.

“I’m fine, how ‘bout you and your knee?” you question, knowing that he didn’t have to wear a brace anymore.

“better, I can walk properly- at least..” he replies, the both of you starting to walk past the various games and food trucks.

it doesn’t take long before you’re both immersed into the money-grabbing games available. from popping balloons with darts to a donut-eating contest. which you won, that left you with powdered sugar all over the corners of your mouth. prompting trent to gently wipe the sugary product off with his thumb and a raised heartbeat he had difficulty controlling.

“let’s try that roller coaster over there..” you suggest, pointing up to the least intimidating one.

“you don’t want to go in the one that goes upside down?” he asks, pressing the bunny plushie you had won into his chest. you hold back a chuckle at the sight, shaking your head.

“nope, don’t trust going upside down on a rollercoaster that’s practically been pulled out of a suitcase..” you state, lining up with him so you can get on the attraction.

he chuckles at your explanation, glancing at your impatient expression. thankfully, it’s your turn after a few minutes. you both strap in safely, making sure the bars are as tight as possible against your chest and stomach.

“aren’t you scared?” he asks, looking at your giddy expression. you shake your head almost immediately, making sure your pockets are zipped so your phone won’t fall out.

soon, the cart you’re in slowly starts rolling up. your breath hitches in excitement, wind starting to blow into your faces. you glance at trent, who’s sporting a less excited expression, so you shout in excitement when the cart drops and goes up multiple times. hoping your happiness will be infectious and cheer him up.

it works! the couple of looks you sneak, tell you he was pretty satisfied, cheering and shouting along with you.

you take a deep breath when the cart stops. the both of you slightly dizzy when you step out.

“you liked that one?” you ask, fixing your jacket as you both start walking away, walking past other attractions.

“i did! i was nervous for a moment, won’t lie..” he replies, scouser accent thick and laced with excitement.

“good, I’m glad you liked it- oh look!” you suddenly exclaim. pointing to the haunted house, fake skeletons, and more ‘scary’ props used to decorate the entrance.

“you want to go inside?” trent asks, raising a brow at you. he wasn’t aware that you were such an adrenaline junkie, or were you?

“yes, let’s go!” you urge, paying the entrance fee, and stepping inside. the bunny plushie now pressed into your side as you both start walking into the dark maze.

“i can’t see anything..” you murmur, eyes slowly adjusting to the darkness. your arm grazes trent’s, which in turn makes your breath hitch. your temperature rises, despite the coldness of the room you’re in.

“me neither..” you hear trent mutter, he glances at you in the dark. your arms touching each other every now and then. the numerous fake spiderwebs and bone-chilling moving skulls making you freeze up often.

entering another room, you’re immediately greeted by a zombie. the special effects props and makeup, too good not to jump and scream.

“shit!” you exclaim, back pressing against trent’s chest when you take a step back.

“what the fuck!” you hear the scouser shout against your ear. it hurts for a moment, but you’re too focused on the zombie trying to get close to you to care about it.

you feel strong hands grab at your jacket. instinctively you know it’s trent, so you keep scuffling forward. trying your best to ignore the groaning and gurgling sounds coming from the too-talented actor.

walking through the empty hall, you look at him, his grip on your jacket loosening.

“you’re such a coward..” you accuse, laughing when remembering how he shouted in fear.

“you’re the one who yelled first..” he retorts, and you can make out a smirk on his face.

“here, take my hand.” he offers, holding his hand out. which you can only see because of the green lights strung along the dusty hallway.

your heart skips a beat or two, stopping you in your tracks. you feel your face heat up, and you’re glad he can’t fully make out your dumbfounded expression in the dark. you quickly shove away that lovesick feeling, trying to compose yourself.

“that’s a really weird way to propose, but okay..” you tease, your fingers intertwining with trent’s. knowing you’d probably made him more dazzled than he made you flustered.

“wait, no- i meant-" he stutters, mind going totally foggy as he forgets how to form a proper sentence in his state. you hold back a smile, knowing his brain was probably running kilometers an hour.

“wait, did you say you’d marry me?” he suddenly questions, face contouring into confusion and a dumbstruck expression.

“uh, no?” you feign your upmost innocence, thumb grazing his knuckles. a sweet, comforting touch, but it only makes the short circuit in his brain worse.

you smirk to yourself, carefully dragging him along. mindful of his injury as your hearts beat in unison, like electric sparks flying off the pads of your fingers.

the hold on each other’s hands only gets tighter, until the last jumpscare. this time, your entire front is pressed against his back, it scaring you a bit too much. you thought the cackling clown was the end of the attraction.

you catch your breath when you finally step outside, trent’s hand on your back. soothing rubs helping you calm down faster.

“why- why would they think using a knife prop was a good idea?” you pant, questioning if the ten-pound entrance fee was worth it.

trent squeezes into your hand, reassuring you with his touch. “you’re good, it’s all fake- remember?” he rationalizes your thoughts, slowly pulling you away to the food trucks.

he sits you down on a small wooden bench and table, eyes roaming on your face to check up on you.

“are you alright?” he asks, face inching closer to yours. his breath hitting your lips.

“I’m fine, really..” you reassure, squeezing into the plushy for comfort.

“let’s have something to eat, then we’ll get on the ferris wheel. is that okay?” he asks, voice patient and sweet. the kindness in his expression and words cheers you up a bit. so, you smile, nodding in agreement.

“i’ve heard that they have really nice tacos. want to try?” he suggests, glancing up at the food truck in question.

“sure, let’s try them.” you answer, he nods walking away to order and collect your food. he comes back fairly quickly, placing the delicious and warm tacos on the table. not to forget, the extra cups of guacamole, lime and sour cream.

“eat up before they get cold..” he says, the both of you digging into your food and drink of choice. a comfortable silence ensues, with soft hums and small comments made in delight.

“i love fair food..” you hum, taking the last few sips of your drink. trent nods in agreement, leaning over to wipe some of the sour cream off your lip.

you pause your movements at the action, eyes darting to his brown ones. his touch is delicate and careful, and he folds the napkin after pulling away.

“there, all clean..” he mutters, cleaning the table off and coming back from the recycling bin.

“do you want to go on the ferris wheel now? it’s getting dark, and the view will be nice..” he asks, unconsciously holding his hand out for you to hold.

you nod excitedly, clutching onto his warm hand as you both make your way to the ferris wheel. your bodies touching as you lean them against each other, waiting in line for the last attraction of the night.

it’s imminent that a sweet first kiss will be shared, right? a flicker to the next chapter of your life. the city lights witnessing a love blooming like a patch of yellow daffodils in spring.

[parkjayist]

TFWILY (psh) ONESHOT

sum you're a florist at a small flower shop. while the shop isn't the most popular, you've made connections with many regulars who come by to say hello and buy some flowers. park sunghoon, slightly clumsy, enters the shop and accidentally breaks a vase ... and a friendship blooms from there.

pairing park sunghoon x florist!reader

genre soft love, fluff, strangers2lovers, just two awkward people bonding over their awkwardness

an hope you enjoy it, i'm pretty proud of this one hehe

tagged: @jjongscardigan @nxzz-skz

wc 2.3k

i. TFW i trip in front of a cute florist

in the heart of a lively town, hidden between tall buildings and busy streets, stands a quaint flower shop adorned with colorful plants. you were proud to call this place your own, getting support from family and friends to open a floral shop. although it was difficult to juggle both college and work at the same time, you’ve managed to make some friends at school that helped you run the shop when you weren’t able to. to put it simply – you were content and happy with your current life. you weren’t too lonely, visiting your parents by train every weekend, hanging out with your friends occasionally, and talking to regular customers that came in and out of your shop. you even met your best friend and platonic soulmate, yani, because she happened to stumble across your shop one day. you wouldn’t trade this life for anything else. 

“yeah, it was such a weird–” yani stopped mid sentence and looked at the time on her phone. “oh shoot, it’s almost 2pm! i’m almost late for an event. i’ll see you later (___)!” she waved at you as she rushed out of the shop.

you chuckled at her messy state and how she almost tripped over nothing. you decided to get back to arranging a bouquet for a customer, humming a small tune from one of ella fitzergald’s songs. you were so focused on making sure that the bouquet looked visually appealing that you yelped in shock when you heard a loud crashing sound. 

you quickly looked up to see a tall man with a distraught look on his face. you followed his eyes to the ground where you saw the disaster he caused – a vase from your mom shattered into pieces. 

“oh my …” you rushed over ready to reprimand the man for damaging your property, before you caught a better look at his face. 

“i’m so so sorry,” he frantically apologized, his eyes furrowed with sincere worry. “i’ll clean it up immediately … um, i’ll even pay you for the damage … again, i’m so sorry,” he bent down and started quickly picking up the pieces and before you could even stop him, he cut himself on the sharp glass. he let out a quick hiss before trying to wipe off the blood. 

“sir … stop, just stop,” you pulled him up. “you must be a very clumsy person … first you knock over my vase and now you hurt yourself!” 

the man didn’t even have a chance to respond before you pulled him over to sit down, quickly getting out a small bandaid that had a cute flower on it. 

“miss … the broken pieces are still there,” he quietly said. 

“it’s fine, i will clean it up myself,” you responded, still focused on disinfecting his cut. 

he went silent, watching you gently put the bandaid on. once you were done you looked at him – his face flushed pink at the close distance between your faces. you took note of his beauty marks that complemented his face gracefully. 

“a … alright, i’m done. hopefully you don’t mind the bandaid,” you murmured, rushing to clean the shards (and to hide your strawberry face). 

as you busied yourself sweeping up the broken pieces of the vase, you stole glances at the mysterious man sitting on the chair. despite your initial impression, there was something intriguing about him. perhaps it was the way his eyes shined with sincerity, or the faint hint of a smile that played on his lips as you tended to his small wound. 

“thank you,” he spoke, breaking the awkward silence. 

you smiled and hummed in response. once you finished cleaning up the mess, you turned back to him, noticing he was still sitting there, almost as if he didn't want to leave just yet.

"is there anything else i can help you with?" you asked, tilting your head slightly. “did you come here to buy flowers?”

the man hesitated for a moment before shaking his head, “no, i was just curious because i’ve never seen this shop before … i should probably get going.”

you nodded, understanding. "alright then. take care, and watch your step next time," you teased gently, a playful glint in your eyes.

he chuckled softly, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer before he finally stood up. "i'll keep that in mind. thanks again." with that, he made his way out of the shop, leaving you standing there with a faint smile on your lips.

you stood there, letting his lingering cologne fill your veins before you go back to working – your rants to your friends about this encounter will have to wait. 

ii. classroom at noon

as weeks passed, the memory of sunghoon park gradually faded into the background of your bustling life. your days were filled with the usual routines of managing your flower shop, attending classes at university, and spending time with friends and family. yet …  there was always a lingering curiosity about the man who had stumbled into your shop that day.

one afternoon, after a particularly long lecture at university, you found yourself making your way to the library, eager to catch up on some reading and maybe even get started on your next assignment. as you entered the quiet sanctuary of books, you couldn't help but feel a sense of calm wash over you.

finding a cozy corner tucked away from the prying eyes of other students, you settled down with your books, stretching and ready to lose yourself in the world of academics. but just as you were about to immerse yourself in your studies, a familiar & deep voice interrupted your thoughts. 

"excuse me, is this seat taken?"

you looked up to find none other than the man from a few weeks ago standing before you, a small smile playing on his lips. he looked much more put together – his hair was styled and his outfit fit perfectly with his vibe. surprise flickered across your face before it softened into a warm smile of recognition. 

"oh, hi! no, it's not taken. please, have a seat," you replied, gesturing to the empty chair across from you.

he nodded gratefully and took a seat, setting his bag down beside him. "thanks. i hope i'm not intruding in your studies grind.”

"not at all," you assured him, feeling a flutter of excitement in your chest at the unexpected reunion. “i didn’t know you were a university student.” 

not many people do," sunghoon chuckled, flipping through the pages of his notebook. "i like to keep a low profile."

you nodded, understandingly. "fair enough. what are you studying?"

"business management," he replied, closing the book momentarily to meet your gaze. "and you?"

"botany," you answered, a hint of pride in your voice. "i guess you could say it comes in handy for running a flower shop."

sunghoon's eyes lit up with interest. "that sounds fascinating. i'd love to hear more about it sometime."

for a moment, there was a comfortable silence between you as you both immersed yourselves in your respective studies. but as time passed, you found yourselves stealing glances at each other, a silent curiosity lingering in the air.

finally, unable to resist the urge any longer, sunghoon spoke up. "hey, i never properly introduced myself last time. i'm sunghoon park."

you smiled, feeling a warmth spread through you at his cute gesture. "nice to officially meet you, sunghoon. i'm (___).”

the conversation flowed effortlessly between you as you both delved into your studies, occasionally sharing snippets of your lives outside of university. hours passed in the blink of an eye, and before you knew it, the sun had begun to set outside the library windows.

as you gathered your things to leave, sunghoon hesitated for a moment before speaking up. "hey, (your name), i was wondering if you'd like to grab coffee with me sometime? you know, as a thank you for letting me share your table today."

a warmth spread through your chest at his invitation, and you couldn't help but smile. "i'd love to."

"great," sunghoon grinned, relief evident in his eyes. "how about this weekend?"

"that sounds perfect," you agreed, exchanging contact information with him.

with plans in place for your coffee date, you bid each other farewell, anticipation bubbling in your chest at the prospect of spending more time with sunghoon outside of the library.

iii. please just stay with me

the day of your coffee date arrived, and as you walked into the café, your heart fluttered with excitement. you scanned the room until your eyes landed on sunghoon, who was already waiting for you at a table near the window. he looked up and flashed you a bright smile as you approached, and you couldn't help but feel a rush of warmth at the sight of him.

"hey," he greeted you, his smile widening as you took a seat across from him.

"hi," you replied, returning his smile. "thanks for meeting me here."

sunghoon nodded, reaching into his bag and pulling out a bouquet of flowers. your favorite flowers, to be exact. you couldn't hide your surprise as he placed them on the table in front of you.

"how did you...?" you started, trailing off as you looked at him in confusion.

sunghoon chuckled softly, scratching the back of his neck. "well, i noticed there was a vase of these flowers on your desk at the shop, so i figured you liked them. i did a little research," he explained, a hint of bashfulness in his tone. "are you proud of me?"

you felt your cheeks heat up at his words, but you couldn't help but smile. "yes, i'm very proud of you. thank you, sunghoon."

the rest of the coffee date passed in a blur of laughter and easy conversation. after you finished your drinks, sunghoon suggested going for a walk, and you eagerly agreed. as you strolled along the quiet streets, the atmosphere between you was a mix of excitement and nervousness. you both kept stealing glances at each other, your hands occasionally brushing against one another. each accidental touch sent a jolt of electricity through you, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of anticipation building in the air.

eventually, sunghoon's hand brushed over yours, and this time, neither of you pulled away. instead, you intertwined your fingers with his, your heart pounding in your chest as you shared a shy smile. awkwardness filled the air, but it was a sweet kind of awkwardness, the kind that came with the excitement of new love. 

"you look radiant today," he began, his voice soft but sincere. "not that you aren't always beautiful, but today... you're truly glowing. like, back when i saw you in that flower shop, it just felt right– you belong there. you have this aura, this… this flower aura."

his sincere words caught you off guard, and you felt a rush of warmth spread through you. "flower aura?" you repeated, unable to hide the amusement in your voice.

"yeah," he continued, his cheeks tinted with a hint of pink. "it's like... you're surrounded by this natural beauty, and it's captivating."

your heart fluttered at his words, and you couldn't help but smile. "well, in that case, you're like a prince charming, sweeping me off my feet with your compliments."

sunghoon's smile widened at your response, his eyes sparkling with affection. "i'm just speaking the truth," he said earnestly. "you really are something special."

and with that, the awkwardness between you dissolved, replaced by a newfound sense of closeness and understanding. you continued your walk, hand in hand – you felt something new blooming in you. 

iv. that feeling when i love you

as you stood behind the counter of your flower shop, lost in the delicate dance of arranging petals and stems, the familiar chime of the door announced the arrival of someone special. you looked up, and your heart skipped a beat as you saw sunghoon walking in, a warm smile lighting up his face, his fangs poking out. excitement bubbled within you, and without hesitation, you set aside your work and hurried over to him, enveloping him in a tight embrace.

"hey pretty," he greeted you, his voice soft with affection as he pressed a tender kiss to your forehead.

a wave of warmth washed over you at his gesture, and you couldn't help but smile up at him, suddenly feeling grateful for his presence.

"hi handsome," you replied, your voice filled with love as you rested your cheek on his chest. 

“baby, i was thinking... would you like to go on a date with me?" he asked, his eyes shining with anticipation. "there's a flower garden event being hosted at the nearby park, and i know how much you love flowers. i thought it would be the perfect way to spend the evening together."

your heartbeat soared at his thoughtful suggestion. "that sounds wonderful," you replied, a smile spreading across your lips. "i'd absolutely love to."

sunghoon's face lit up with pure joy, his eyes glittering with delight. but then, as if realizing the weight of the moment, he suddenly seemed flustered and unsure, his cheeks and ears turning a bright shade of red.

"um, yeah, great!" he stuttered, his voice a bit shaky. "i'll… uh, i'll swing by after you close up shop. can't have my girl seeing me like this."

your heart melted at his adorable nervousness, and you couldn't help but giggle at his sweet attempt to play it cool.

"sure thing," you said, trying to contain your own excitement. "i'll be waiting.”

with that, sunghoon bid you a slightly clumsy goodbye, almost tripping over the steps of the shop. had he not learned his lesson from last time, this would’ve been deja vu. you let out a laugh at his clumsiness, and he looked back at you, his smile a mix of excitement and embarrassment as he hurried out of the shop. 

you watched him go, feeling a surge of affection for the endearing man who had captured your heart simply by breaking a vase. 

masterlist

[lemonsdaydreams]

breaking the distance. |c.b|

summary: You and Colby have been dating for nearly two years, enduring long distance and making the best out of time zones and chaotic work/ school schedules. The two of you knew one day the distance would be shortened to where there would be no more planes needed to see each other, and date night could finally be more than just facetiming and watching a movie together at the same time. One of you just happened to know it would be happening sooner rather than later.

~*~*~*~*~*~

No one ever expected Colby and I’s relationship to last, and I couldn’t really blame them. On the outside looking in, It seemed like it was a storm waiting to happen. Colby, a very well known social media content creator, constantly traveling and investigating new locations with his best friend in and outside the country, and lives on the west coast of the united states. Me, a non social media content creator, studying emergency paramedicine, lives on the east coast, and never even had a passport until two months ago. The main thing people always loved to throw at us was the distance. ‘Why date someone who lives a 5 hour plane ride away, when there’s plenty of people here in the same state for you to choose from?’

I personally didn’t fully expect us to be where we are right now when I met Colby over two years ago. It’s crazy how things happen though, how quickly you connect with a person. It’s as if I’d known him my whole life, as if I was connecting with an old friend I hadn’t seen in years that night at the bar. We talked and talked for hours, the rest of the crowded bar tuned out and all I saw was him. Colby and his friends he had traveled to the east coast with a few days later after we first ended up coming over to my apartment for a game night after constantly texting and getting to know each other more. Ironically, one of his friends that came with him, I knew from my childhood. Talk about a small world.

The buzzing of my cellphone in my hand snapped me out of the daydream I was in. A smile quickly spread across my face as I spotted Colby’s name on the caller ID before answering.

“Finally waking up, Mr. Brock?” I smiled as I held the phone to my ear.

“I’m so sorry beautiful, I slept through my alarm. I totally planned on waking up earlier to be able to talk to you in case you began to stress over your exam today.” His morning voice was something that always caught me off guard, the deep rasp. It always made me yearn for the day I’d be able to hear it in person, and not over the phone.

Of course over the past two years we’ve met up and spent time together, however it was usually when him and Sam were on a trip to film or when I had a small break between semesters at school and could afford to visit him.

“It’s okay Colby, I promise.” I smiled to myself and attempted to contain my excitement as I scanned the empty apartment once more. “I’ve been just cleaning and relaxing on the couch. I think if I tried reading any more of my textbooks my eyeballs might fall out of my head.”

Colby chuckled as my apartment door swung open, and I quickly muted myself as Seth, the friend of Colby’s that I’ve known since childhood came in. “Who’s ready to mo- oh shit, are you on the phone?” He quickly covered his mouth with a hand.

“Yeah, with Colby.” I giggled before giving him a ‘shh’ and taking myself off mute.

“You’re going to do great. You always do great. This is the final bridge needing to be crossed and then I’ll be able to have you in my arms every night and hear about the crazy encounters you have at work in person. God, I can’t wait for that to be real, beautiful. I miss you so much.”

“I can’t believe that it’s finally here. Just this semester and then I’m done, graduated, nationally registered to work anywhere in the country. By the way, My supervisor reached out to the base that’s not far from where you live, and they have an open paramedic spot that is up for grabs.” I bit my bottom lip and glanced at Seth who also shared the same nervous look.

I’ve always hated lying, and lying to Colby these past few months have been absolute torture. But he’s always the one surprising me, I wanted to finally surprise him. I ended up taking an earlier program that Colby didn’t know about, which allowed me to graduate and become a paramedic three months ago. However, Colby still thought I had another two months to go. During this time since finishing school, I’ve been working and studying protocols for the state I’d be moving to, coordinating with Sam on shipping my stuff to Vegas from New England without Colby seeing the boxes, selling stuff I don’t need to bring, and basically getting ready to move to Vegas. Of course, Colby knew this day would be coming, as we have a whole checklist we share on google docs to make sure we have everything lined up for when the day comes, He just doesn’t know it’s happening sooner. Or that I’m going to be there, in like 12 hours.

“Baby, Is it okay if I let you go? I can call you back later. I have to bring my phone to the apple store, I finally got an appointment to get my battery fixed.” I ran a hand through my hair, constantly reminding myself mentally the lying would be over soon.

“Oh good, I’m so glad you got that appointment babe, I have to get going anyway. Sam and I have to go meet up with some friends to film a video, but text or call me as soon as you finish your exam okay? I love you.”

After saying goodbye and hanging up, I groaned and laid back on the empty granite counter. “Dude, no wonder you hate lying. Thank god that wasn’t a facetime call or one look at your face and Colby would see your face and just know you were hiding something.” Seth chuckled and I flipped him the bird.

“Can we go get coffee before we head to the airport? This whole not having my own car thing sucks.” Seth chuckled once more before nodding and holding out his rental keys that I snatched out his hand before he could speak. “Yes, I’ll drive. You drive worse than my grandmother.”

~

“Now boarding Group A.”

“I’m really flying to Vegas without a return ticket.” I mumbled as I handed my ticket to the flight attendant at the gate. I glanced over my shoulder at Seth who stood behind me, laughing. “You’re finally moving to Vegas. Which means Sam and I won’t have to hear Colby talk about how much he misses your voice all the time and try to figure out what haunted places we could go see near where you live.”

“Are you sure he won’t question why my phone is off for over five hours? I mean we don’t talk on the phone all day every day, but we usually check in over text to say Hi and that we miss each other or something. I don’t think a phone battery replacement would take five hours.” I buckled my seatbelt once Seth and I got to our assigned seats. “You seriously worry too much.” Seth patted my hand as he smiled. “We’ve got it all figured out. He isn’t going to have any time to check his phone with what they’re filming.”

“This is going to be a long ass five hours, Seth. This is why teleportation should be a thing. I could already be there, with Colby.” I sighed as I turned to look out the window, anxiously tapping my foot on the ground. Seth laughed and out of the corner of my eye, I spotted him hold his phone out to take a photo.

“Don’t you dare post that.” I looked at him wide eyed, which caused Seth to laugh more. “Relax, It’s a video. For memories.” I rolled my eyes and crossed my arms across my chest. “Should I yell it out now that you’re a paramedic, just in case there’s a medical emergency?”

“Don’t you dare. I’m too nervous to provide any care, nor do I want to start my career as a medic off by taking care of someone on a plane. Why aren’t we moving yet?” I peered up and around the seats, huffing as I noticed not everyone was seated.

“God this is going to be so funny to look back on.” Seth mumbled as he put his phone down.

~*~

“I’ve got all your stuff in the storage unit, and your car should be arriving in the next few days.” Sam smiled as he drove Seth and I from the airport. Colby was back at the house editing and thinking Sam had just gone out to get food for the two of them. “It’s really good to finally see you, by the way. Colby is going to lose his mind.”

“I’m so nervous.” I mumbled looking out the window of the car and taking in the change of scenery. “He thinks I’m still in my exam right now.”

“Oh I know. Dude is a love sick puppy right now.” Sam laughs and gives me a smile. “Once we get to the house, I’m going to go inside to ask Colby to come out and help me grab some stuff from my car, but in reality it will only be you.” He added while Seth readjusted the camera on the dash of the car. I nodded and prayed we’d be arriving at the house soon.

Once at the house, I laid down in the back seat of the car to hide until Colby came out. “Yeah it’s on the passenger side in the back, If you can just grab it for me as well as the camera!” Sam called out, signaling that Colby was coming my way. Before I knew it, the door was swung open and I quickly sat up and smiled as my eyes landed on Colby. “Surprise!”

Colby stared in shock for a moment, eyes wide with confusion. Next thing I knew, He was grabbing my legs and pulling me out of the vehicle and up into his arms. My arms quickly wrapped around his neck, resting my head on his shoulder and wrapping my legs around him as he held me. “What is going on?” Colby yelled out, turning to glance at his friends back at the doorway before slamming the car door and moving so I was pressed against it and using one of his hands to pull my head back so he could see my face. “You have an exam?” His eyebrows furrowed.

“Baby.” I laughed softly. “Oh my gosh I’ve absolutely hated lying to you. I graduated early, That’s why I was so busy over break and couldn’t see you. I didn’t tell you because I wanted to surprise you by being able to finally be here sooner than you thought.” I cupped his face in my hands and blinking back tears as I finally got a good look at him. “I can’t believe I’m here.”

“I missed your graduation?” He frowned, resting his forehead against mine. “I’m so confused baby.” He quickly closed the distance between us and kissed me gently. “But dear god have I been dying to kiss you.” He mumbled against my lips.

“No, It was a winter graduation so there’s no walk you didn’t miss anything.” I kissed him once more. “But I’m here. no more distance. It’s finally broken.” I ran a hand through his hair as I stared into his blue eyes. Colby pulled me closer once more and began kissing me again, deeper this time before beginning to head towards the house. “You guys should probably head our for a while.” Colby mumbled as he passed Sam and Seth, his gaze still set on me. “Already planned on it. We’ll be back later. Welcome home!” Sam called out as Colby walked away from them, still carrying me. I let out a small laugh and began kissing Colby’s cheeks and playing with his hair at the nape of his neck.

“I can’t believe you lied.” Colby fake pouted as he gently tossed me on his, ours now, bed before climbing on top of me. “But it was so worth it.” He mumbled before kissing me. “Now it’s time for me to welcome you home.” He smirked.

[effloradox]

what would you do, if you only knew (that i can see you)

thomas thorne x ghost hunter+fem!reader (set during season 2 episode 1)

synopsis: being able to see ghosts for most of your life almost seemed to force you into being a ghost-hunter of sorts (not that your boss is actually good at his job), it’s only on a trip to button house and a reunion with an old friend from your student days that your ability actually comes into use after a run in with a particularly dashing ghost

a/n: this is massively inspired by the song i can see you by taylor swift, the plot just came into my head after listening to it and here we are, it was meant to fulfil one of the requests i’ve been sent but it went so far from the prompt that i decided to make it a separate fic and do another fic for the prompt

-

If you’re being honest with yourself, you’re not sure how you ended up in the ghost hunting business. It’s not something you even thought was a real job when you were a kid, it seemed like something you'd see people doing in the cartoons you watched. It was only after a close call when you were a teenager that almost killed you that you realised that you could see ghosts.

It made living in London quite difficult, the sheer amount of people who’s spirit hadn’t moved on was difficult to deal with but you managed to set yourself up with the so-called Ghostmaster General and it gave you a steady stream of work going round the country with him seeing if the buildings were actually haunted or not. You’d never explicitly said you could see ghosts to your employer but you could express enough knowledge that he kept choosing you to go on the trips. When photos of a grey lady surfaced on Facebook and Twitter from a mansion in Hemel Hempstead your boss had called on you immediately to join him on the trip.

Button House didn’t seem to be any different than the countless other manor houses you’d seen over the past few years. It's in a worse state of repairs than you're used to but aside from that it seems like every other fake haunted house you've visited. You’d left your boss to sort out whether you were being allowed inside the house, not wanting to drag the many bags of equipment to the front gates if you were going to have to just bring them back to the van. It’s only when he gives you the go-ahead to go and start setting equipment up inside that you grab a few bags and make your way towards the entrance.

It's with a jolt of surprise that you realise you recognise one of the owners of the house. You’d been friends with Alison at university until the two of you had both finished your degrees and parted ways, keeping in touch only to wish each other a happy birthday or similar milestones.

“Alison, hey!” The woman looked your way at her name, and her face bloomed into a confused smile when her eyes fell on you.

“Hey! Oh my god!” She pulled you into a hug as soon as you were within arms reach and you did your best to reciprocate without hitting her with the equipment bag slung over your shoulder.

“This is your house?”

“Yeah, well it was my great-step-aunt’s house and I inherited it when she died.”

“That’s amazing! Much easier than trying to get lucky with London real estate.”

“So how did you end up doing this?” Alison gestures vaguely to the bag pulled across your shoulder. It’s all you can do to shrug your shoulders lightly, trying to look as blasé as possible as you readjust the strap before it starts to slip down.

“It pays the bills.”

You couldn’t help but notice how nervous Alison was about the whole situation she’d found herself in but you chalked it up to nerves about having so many strangers in her home and didn’t think to push it. She’s kind enough to give you directions up to one of the rooms near the attic that your boss has assigned for the thermal camera currently resting against your shoulder. You agree to a cup of tea and a catch up before making your way to the room.

Everything was going normally with the equipment setup until you suddenly heard a voice shouting down a corridor. It immediately pulled your attention from the camera you were setting up, your eyes trained on the closed door to the room you're in waiting to hear footsteps approaching. When silence lay steady, your focus returned back to the camera.

It takes a great deal of self-control to try not to flinch when a figure suddenly comes through the closed door. You try not to let your eyes flicker away from the camera but can’t help but quickly scan the figure. It’s not the grey ghost you saw in the pictures, the man is dressed like a scout for some reason and the only abnormal thing about him is the arrow sticking out of his neck. You can’t help but wince slightly at that, what a terrible way to go. The ghost is talking to himself apparently in a thick northern accent or that’s what you assumed until another ghost steps through the door.

It takes everything within you to not stare at this ghost. He’s clearly from a few hundred years ago based on his attire but he might be the most beautiful man you’re ever laid eyes on. He was mid-sentence when he walked through the door saying something about finding the others but his voice trailed off when he looked in your direction.

“But, soft, what light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and you are the sun.” The way his voice carries the words is nothing short of reverent and you can practically feel the embarrassment rushing through your body. It's not the first time a ghost has found you attractive but normally they're plague victims or half-mad, they don't normally look as though they've just stepped away from a recreation of Pride and Prejudice.

“Thomas! It's not polite to stare.” The scout almost looks apologetic which is quite sweet given that there’s no way he can know that you can see him but his words have done nothing to deter Button House’s version of Mr Darcy.

“And yet we hang the most beautiful paintings ever created in galleries so that the masses may gaze upon their beauty. Would you deny me a similar experience Pat?”

As nice as it is to have someone speak about you like that, you’re aware that it’s going to be very difficult to get through the night if you have a ghost following you and all but swooning over you. Part of you wonders if you could try and feign being sick but also you know how one-track minded your boss will be about this house and there’s no way he’ll be willing to leave to drive you into the nearest town to get a train back to London.

You hear the familiar sounds of the camera as it’s finally finished setting up facing the door and, as you expected, shows no sign of any heat signatures. You decide to leave your other bag in the room for now, choosing instead to go and find Alison. The two ghosts are mid-debate as to whether it’s polite to stare at someone who doesn’t know they’re being stared at as you walk over to the door.

It’s with slightly shaking hands that you twist the handle on the door, opening it as calmly as possible as you try to remember your way out of the house. You can hear the ghosts talking in the room and the voices don’t seem to be getting any further away but the only cohesive thought in your mind is that you have to track down Alison and ask her what she knows about the house.

“Hey, you okay? You look like you've seen a ghost.” Alison laughs nervously at her joke but it does nothing to relax you.

“I need to speak to you.”

“Okay?”

“Outside.” Alison must see something in your expression that worries her because she allows you to take her by the arm and gently leads you to the front door. It's only when the front door is closed behind you and you can't see anyone dead or alive around that you find your anxiety easing. When you stop moving, you make sure to have your back to the front door, if only to put yourself at ease.

“Are you okay?” You’re about to speak when a voice cuts through the silence.

“Alison! You must reveal the name of this fair maiden at once! Her beauty outshines the sun in a way I never believed possible up until this very moment.” You have to give credit to Alison, she's very good at hiding the flinch when a voice suddenly appears from through the front door. It's only from a lifetime of doing something similar that you catch it, and you watch her eyes darting to something behind you before looking back towards you.

“Sorry, did you say something?” To give Alison credit, her voice only wavers slightly after the interruption. Maybe it’s unfair of you but when you speak, you make sure to do so in a quieter tone than you would normally. You have to be sure that she can see and hear him before you say anything and if you can make it harder for her to hear you under the loud gushing of the ghost then you’ll do what you can.

“I think there’s something upstairs.” You try to pay close attention to any reactions that Alison has to your comment but it’s very difficult once the ghost appears by your side. Up close he really is gorgeous. It’s almost a shame he’s dead because if you saw him in public you’d want his number in a heartbeat. It’s very hard to not let your eye wander in his direction, especially when he’s so close to you. He hasn’t stopped talking since he appeared through the door and whilst you’re more than used to a chatty ghost, you can see that Alison is getting more and more distracted by him.

“Alison! I must insist you express how ardently I admire this fair lady immediately or I shall never give you a moment of peace!” The threat, however serious he is about it, seems to be the final breaking point for your friend, whose face shoots in his direction.

“Thomas, stop talking for one second!” Even the ghost seems surprised by her outburst, staring at her with wide eyes and an open mouth. She catches her mistake in an instant, staring at you with an almost mortified expression as she waits for your reaction.

“I’m guessing you have more than two ghosts here then?”

“What?” Alison’s voice is tentative, like she’s waiting for you to either laugh in her face or run away screaming. “You don’t think I’m crazy?”

“I can see them too.”

“What?!” You don’t blame Alison for being surprised, it’s not something you ever told her during your time as students, not even when you had both had a bit too much to drink and your secrets spilled easily. You’d learned early into your time seeing ghosts that telling people the truth was a quick way to alienate yourself from friends and peers alike. It was much easier to lie and say you were just an anxious person by nature who startled easily than to explain that you flinched every time you saw a particularly gruesome looking ghost.

“Sorry for not telling you. Pat seems really nice.”

“Oh my god.” A beat passes as the news sinks in, and then another wave of acceptance seems to reach Alison and with it comes another shout. “Oh my god! You can hear him?” She points in Thomas’ direction and the ghost in question has the good grace to look somewhat mortified by the idea you’ve spent the past thirty minutes listening to him regale you with compliments that he thought you couldn’t hear.

“I can.” For a ghost that’s just spent the better part of an hour showering you with compliments, he suddenly seems unable to string a sentence together. It’s easy to put him out of his misery though. “You’re very handsome by the way. I’m very flattered.” His face goes red at the compliment and, for the first time since he appeared in front of you, he seems genuinely speechless. Alison seems to be in a similar state.

“Does your boss know?”

“Absolutely not! I didn’t want to spend most of my adult life being ridiculed for something no one would ever believe to be true. Have you told anyone?”

“Mike knows. Kind of hard not to tell him with so many of them.” Mike is quickly making his way into your good books with everything you hear about him and you make a mental note to buy him a nice bottle of wine for being such a supportive husband.

“How many have you got?”

“Too many.” You let out a soft noise of consideration before turning to the still shocked ghost standing beside you.

“Would you introduce me to your friends?” Thomas seems to snap out of his shock at your request, bowing slightly and extending a hand in your direction. It’s a sweet gesture even though both of you know you can’t physically take his hand.

“It would be my pleasure.”

“I’ll uh, catch up with you later?”

“You might want to worry about the twenty-something ghost hunters running amok in your house first.” Alison pales slightly at the reminder of what situation has brought the three of you to where you currently are.

“Oh god. I need to go and find Mike.” Your friend is quick to dash back inside her house, leaving the door open for you and Thomas to follow her. Manly you, since he could just phase through the door again.

“Shall we Lady-uh…” It’s only in that moment that you realise Alison never actually told Thomas your name and you’re quick to correct that.

“(Y/N).” You supply.

“Lady (Y/N).”

“We shall.” Thomas walks towards the house first, waiting just beyond the door for you to follow him. Your only thought as you walk through the door is that you hope you don’t run into your boss for the next thirty minutes or so otherwise you might have some explaining to do.