#saw this for the first time like five minutes ago and i had to pause to hyperventilate

[verawhisk]

am replaying this part of a tiktok over and over again like a depraved freak because he’s so cute and his eyes are so sparkly and his little head swivel is so adorable and i need to live inside his cervix and be his wife and his husband at the same time and life is just so hard yknow

[arieslost]

home to you | op81

oscar piastri x fem!reader

summary: oscar does what he should’ve done a long time ago.

word count: 2,978

warnings: healing sunburn right at the beginning, a touch of angst

masterlist — join my tag list here!

this is a PART TWO! read part one here :)

© arieslost 2024. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.

Your sunburn is peeling.

Oscar’s been watching you absentmindedly pick at it for the last ten minutes as you recount your day to him. He’s paying attention to what you’re saying, of course, but now he’s worried that you might accidentally hurt yourself.

“Stop doing that,” he says when you pause to catch your breath, reaching for his phone as if he could put his hand through and stop you himself.

“What?” You frown, and then look at your shoulder. “Oh, right. It’s weirdly satisfying though.”

“This is why you can’t go to the beach by yourself.” Oscar sighs. “You never put on enough sunscreen.”

“I know,” you reply quietly.

As much as both of you have tried, neither of you can help the awkward undertones that seep into every silence you share now. Oscar knows you love him, and you know that he doesn’t feel the same way.

You think he doesn’t feel the same way.

When he saw that look on your face that morning in the kitchen, it reminded him of the way he stared at you on prom night. Oscar didn’t get asked to the senior prom, but you did, and you had turned the offer down. Oscar asked you why, and you told him that you only wanted to go with him, otherwise you weren’t going. You’d dragged him back and forth from your table to the dance floor all night long, and it all would’ve faded into the mush of fleeting high school memories if your favorite song hadn’t come on. Oscar remembers every detail of how your eyes lit up, how you cried, “I love this song!” even though he knew you did, and how you’d grabbed his hands and started dancing with a refreshed energy. He felt like time had stopped and his world revolved around you, and it felt right.

So yeah, he knew the moment you gave him that look that not only did he still love you, but you finally, finally felt the same way. And, for the second time, he’d epically fucked it up.

He often wishes that he could go back and confess to you like he wanted to that night. You’d stayed over because you were too tired to drive home. You were both single. It was the perfect time. But now it’s four years later and he’s sitting in the hotel bathroom on the other side of the world, his girlfriend asleep in the hotel bed, and you on the other end of his phone screen picking at your sunburn that he could’ve prevented had he spent more time with you on vacation.

“You doing okay, Osc?” You ask, pulling on a hoodie of his that you stole from him before he left for his very first F1 race. “Aside from the races, I mean. I know you’re doing great with those.”

“Yeah, I’m alright.” The words come out with practiced ease. “I’d rather hear about how you’re doing though.” I miss you like you wouldn’t believe.

“I think I’ve told you everything like five times now,” you giggle. “I could tell you about the guy that came up to me in the grocery store this afternoon and took a painstakingly long time to ask for my number, but that’s not a long story.”

Oscar’s heart stops. “What?” He replies, teeth gritted, before he clears his throat and lightens his tone. “I mean, what?”

“Yeah, it was kind of strange. He started the conversation by asking me how you were doing, obviously, because you’re so cool and famous-” Oscar flips you off when you roll your eyes, and you laugh. “Anyway, I guess that was his icebreaker, because then he just abruptly segued into grilling me right there in the cereal aisle about my life and how he ‘couldn’t believe he’d never seen me before.’” You recount dramatically. “I’m telling you, Osc, it was nonstop cheesy line after cheesy line. I felt so bad for him I let him have my number.”

“So, he used me as an in and then harassed you until you gave him your number?”

You nod slowly. “Pretty much.”

“You better not actually be considering going out with this guy.” Oscar scoffs.

“Oh, no, I’m not!” You rush to clarify, and he can see a faint blush rising on your cheeks. “I mean, it’s not like I’m waiting for anyone-anything. He was just weird. I only gave him my number so he’d leave me alone… I blocked him when he texted me.”

“You’re horrible,” he starts laughing now, relieved that this guy never even stood a chance. “I love it.”

“You’re supposed to be encouraging me to get out there and find a boyfriend, loser. Brush up on the best friend manual.” You complain, pulling the hood over your head and hiding your face from him so he can’t see how much it hurts to think about finding someone that isn’t him.

He doesn’t notice anyway; he’s distracted by the sound of the covers moving and his girlfriend yawning.

You hear it too, and glance up at the camera. “You have to go?”

His heart breaks at how sad you look. “Yeah, sounds like she’s actually waking up this time. Sorry, honey.”

You shrug, and he knows you’re trying to appear unbothered. “It’s okay. We got, what, an hour and a half? That’s a whole extra 45 minutes or so.”

“You’re allowed to tell me how you really feel, y’know.”

“Damn it, Oscar. You just see right through me. I don’t know why I even bother.” You sigh, covering your face with your hands.

“I don’t know why, either,” he attempts to joke. “Look, I-”

“Oscar? Where are you?” His girlfriend calls, and you stiffen up at the sound of her voice.

“Be there in a minute!” He responds, turning his attention back to you. “I’ll call you again as soon as possible, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Bye, honey.”

“Bye, Osc.”

You hang up first.

“I love you,” he whispers to his blank phone screen, and gets up to start his day.

You say it back to your own blank screen and go to sleep.

Oscar comes to the steadfast conclusion that he wants you and only you at his side at his home race, and not as a friend.

Breaking up with his girlfriend still looms over him. He lies awake for way too long at night trying to figure out the nicest way to do it, but his thoughts always end up taking a detour to you and how he wishes it was you sleeping next to him instead.

Despite the struggle going on in his mind, he goes through the motions of PDA with her for all the cameras and other drivers in the paddock to see. Lando is the only one who realizes what his issue is.

“Mate, you have to figure this out.” The older driver said out of the blue as they were lounging in McLaren hospitality after qualifying.

“Huh?” Oscar frowned at him, tearing his eyes away from his texts with you. “I know I fucked up that quali, but it’s not like I can’t improve.”

“That’s not what I’m talking about, you muppet.” Lando rolled his eyes, and said your name like it’s obvious. “You just have to break up with the girl you’re with now so you can have the girl you really want.”

“You say that like it’s so simple.” Oscar mumbled, looking at the text from you that had just come in.

Just focus on the race, Osc. Quali’s behind you, it doesn’t matter anymore. I’ll be cheering you on, what could possibly go wrong??

“It is, if you think about it. Besides, you’ve been acting so weird lately she might already think something’s up.”

“Gee, thanks. That makes me feel a lot better.” Oscar groaned, sinking lower into his chair.

“Always here for you, mate.”

“I was being sarcastic.”

“I don’t care.”

That enlightening conversation gets Oscar to finally work up the courage to tell his girlfriend those dreaded words following the race– “We need to talk.”

He waits until they’re in the hotel room after dinner to say it so there’s no audience, primarily because he knows that she’s prone to throwing fits when things don’t go her way. The memory of her losing her mind when he took you to breakfast during vacation comes screaming back to him at the speed of light.

She doesn’t say anything at first; instead, she takes her time removing her shoes and taking the pins out of her hair. Oscar can’t stand the silence, so he starts speaking again.

“It’s about-”

“I think I know what this is about.” She interrupts him.

“You do?”

“I’d have to be stupid not to know, Oscar. You’ve been off for the past few days, it’s only with me, and every time I wake up you’re hiding in the bathroom on the phone.” She holds up a hand when he opens his mouth. “I know it’s her, and I’ve known since that vacation. You don’t have to tell me.”

“You’re… you’re not gonna yell?” He can’t hide the surprise in his voice.

“It won’t get me anywhere, will it?”

“It never did.”

She smiles matter-of-factly. “I guess I have to work on that.”

She packs her things without argument. Oscar offers to buy her a plane ticket somewhere, but she waves him off and thanks him anyway before walking out the door.

The Australian Grand Prix is in two weeks. Oscar doesn’t think before he calls you.

“I’m coming home. I need to see you.”

Your heart has been in your throat ever since Oscar called you this morning. He was so hasty that he didn’t even tell you when he was coming, so every little movement you see outside your window has you running to see if it’s him or not.

He doesn’t show up until almost 9:30 at night. You can hear the engine of his car as he flies through your neighborhood with practiced ease and nearly drifts into your driveway. Your stomach is jumping with nerves and excitement; you didn’t think you’d see him for another two weeks, and despite the awkwardness that your feelings have brought to your friendship, you want nothing more than to hug your best friend.

He starts impatiently knocking on the door as you nearly trip down the stairwell in your rush to let him in.

“Hold on!” You shout, fingers shaking as you unlock the door and wrench it open. “Are you trying to break my door?”

“Jokes later, let me hold you,” he says, reaching for you and meeting you in the middle of the doorway as he pulls you into his chest for a tight embrace.

You melt into him immediately, your arms wrapped around his neck and your nose pressed to the warm skin that peeks out of his hoodie. “I can’t believe you’re here,” you mumble, squeezing him.

He shivers, kissing the top of your head. “I’m here, baby.”

I’m sorry, baby. You think about that so much that it shouldn’t hurt anymore. It sobers your mood a little.

“Why, though?” You ask, pulling away a little to look at him. “Don’t you have things to be doing?”

“I may have forced them to clear my schedule by coming home without telling anyone.”

“Oscar!” You exclaim. “Why? You could get in trouble!”

“Can we talk inside?”

“Yeah, of course. C’mon.” You take his hand and lead him into your house.

He takes off his shoes, leaves his suitcase in the hall, and goes to your living room on autopilot, where he flops down on the couch and lets out a long breath. You sit next to him, knees bumping together as you look at him with a reasonable amount of concern. “You’re acting weird. What’s wrong with you?”

“I broke up with her.” He says, rolling his head to the side so he’s looking at you. “So, nothing’s wrong with me.”

“Bullshit, Osc, it seemed to me like you really liked her.”

“You didn’t, though.”

“Who cares what I think?” Your brain fully computes his words. “Wait- actually, no. I’m not even going to act surprised by the fact that you knew that.” You sigh.

“I care what you think. I care about you. A lot.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“I don’t think you do.” He sits up straighter now, turning his whole body to face you. “Like, in a romantic way.”

You blink at him a couple times. “No you don’t.”

“I don’t?” He repeats incredulously.

“You can’t. You don’t.” You say. “You’re lying.”

“I’m lying?” He says through a laugh. “You’ve known me your whole life. When have I ever lied to you?”

You press your lips together. The only time he’s ever lied to you is when he planned your surprise parties. “I’m gonna need you to do a really good job explaining yourself, otherwise I’m kicking you out. You can’t do this to me, Oscar, you know how I feel-”

“Yes, I do, and I’d love to explain if you’d stop spiraling for a second.” He interrupts, taking your hands to ground you.

You’re once again having the dilemma of wanting to push him away and pull him closer simultaneously. The pressure of his hands holding yours succeeds in calming you, so you allow it.

“The whole reason I knew how you felt in the first place is because of the way you looked at me in the kitchen. You didn’t notice, but I looked at you the exact same way at the prom.” He says, gauging your reaction by how your face contorts slightly as you try to remember the prom at all, aside from the fleeting memory of forcing him to slow dance with you. “That feeling like time stops? Like-”

“Like I got hit by a truck,” you recall, looking down as he runs his thumbs over your knuckles.

“Right.” He nods. “Look, the bottom line here is that I screwed up by not telling you then, and if I had, we would’ve been dating for years at this point and this conversation wouldn’t even be happening.”

You feel like you look like a fish out of water with how your jaw is opening and closing, searching for something to say in response. “Osc-”

“If this makes you change your mind, I get it.” He continues. “But the whole reason I came here is to tell you that I love you. I’m in love with you and I have been since we were 18.”

You go to muster up something to say in response when he says one more thing. “Oh, and I’m tired of only being able to see you through the phone. That’s the other reason.”

You can’t help it– that, paired with his polite cat smile, his flushed cheeks, and his confession has you dissolving into giggles. That quickly morphs into laughter that sends you leaning so far forward your head is practically in Oscar’s lap, but he doesn’t seem to mind because he’s laughing too.

“I hate you so much,” you gasp out, pushing yourself back up so you can look at him when you tell him the complete and total truth. “I’ve been in love with you since we were 14.”

“Shit, that means I have eight years to make up for, not four.”

“Sucks to suck.” You say, easily falling back into your age-old banter.

“You sound like Lando,” he says, wrinkling his nose. “And I was gonna ask if I could kiss you.”

“Ah, shoot. I ruined it.”

“Hmm, no. I’m gonna ask you anyway.” He shifts closer to you, brushing your hair out of your face with both hands. “Can I kiss you? Please?”

You start nodding before he even finishes asking, maybe too enthusiastically, but it’s Oscar. He knows you. He wants you. You don’t need to be embarrassed.

The press of his lips against yours is soft, gentle. You always thought that if you ever kissed Oscar it might be too weird, but the only thing you feel now is right.

It feels right to thread your fingers into his hair. It feels right to let him tug you closer, closer, closer, until you have no choice but to straddle him so you can be as close as he wants you. It feels right when his hands slip under your shirt and lightly run over the skin of your back, when his tongue meets yours, when you give his hair an experimental tug and he moans into your mouth.

The only thing wrong about it is that you have no choice but to break the kiss in order to breathe, but even then you don’t move far from each other, breaths mixing in the minimal space between you both.

“We could have been doing that for a long time,” Oscar sighs, throwing his head back against the couch.

“We have all the time in the world now that we stopped being idiots and confessed.” You point out.

“D’you think you can come to the race in a couple weeks? We can take it slow with this, no one needs to know… I just want you to be there.” He asks.

“Of course, Osc, are you kidding?” You run your hands over his shoulders and down to where his hands rest on your hips. “Though, if you win, I can’t promise no PDA or anything.”

“I’d expect nothing less from my girlfriend.” You can feel him tense up a little, like he’s expecting you to react negatively, but he relaxes immediately when your smile lights up your whole face and you kiss him again.

“I love you,” he whispers against your lips.

“I love you,” you whisper back.

No one else needs to hear it just yet. You only need to tell each other.

note: i sincerely hope this made up for any tears i may have caused with the angst in the first part. this is the first time i’ve ever been inspired to write a part 2, and i think it’s because i desperately needed it to end happily. thank you so much for all the love on falling for you; i never expected it to get as much attention as it did!

requests are OPEN, and my inbox is always open for comments, criticism, and conversation! feel free to pop in!

reblogs are greatly appreciated <33

dividers by @/saradika !

tags (i’m sorry if i couldn’t tag you!): @venusacrossthestars @67-angelofthelordme-67 @emails-i-can-send @nelly187 @cixrosie @fangirl-dot-com @sainzluvrr @imheretoread @mellowarcadefun @yourbane @monsieurbacteria6 @c-losur3 @papayatori @ssprayberrythings @namgification @maih23 @evlkking @witchycarmen @ilovethispookie @maxverstappenfan79 @sya-skies @niallerswolf @fangirl-dot-com @hood-jabi @vellicora @k-pevensie28 @cami26cami @arian-directioner @vildetry06 @hauntedphotographybookstaco @bigheartsthings @northpizzasposts @notturlover @riv3rbank @gesfjjsl @oliveisunstable @lily1sposts @sadbut-true0 @lilcowboy0 @alltoowelltaylor @kimis-gloves @superheroreader @alexmarie29 @anedpev @lalalaphie @waitingforsmartpeople @arrowenchantress @zillygoose @its-cat-eyes @gxllumsriddles @fionaschicken @mrsgeorgerussell63 @bre013 @lizzypiastri @blldsnjs @samantha-chicago @homosexualjohnwayne @opheliabluewolff @catbat011 @drivelikeiido @what-is-happening-helpp @decafmickey @tania2748 @steviesscoops @annahowardsworld

[loliwrites]

The One You Need | six

🎶 I spent most my life thinkin’ love was out of reach, so maybe just this once, you could be the one I need, if you let me be the one you need🎶

pairing: neighbor!joel miller x f!reader  rating: explicit, 18+ minors dni  summary: when you move into town hellbent on keeping everyone at an arm’s length, your neighbor Joel finds his way into your life. warnings/tags: au, neighbor joel, age gap [reader is late 20s/early 30s, Joel is late 40s], hyper-independent reader, angst, first real date, discussion of dysfunctional parental relationships, turbulent sibling relationship, joel makes reader cry [not in a mean way], cuddling, terms of endearment [sweetheart, babygirl], female reader, no physical description, protective!joel, soft!joel, dare i say ei!joel, no use of y/n. word count: 6.2k series masterlist | part five a/n: it’s about time, huh? (the last part was released about 10 months ago 💀 but i’m back hunni buns. and back to remembering why i love sweet, emotionally intelligent joel

Make it hurt.

Make it hurt.

The words were seared into Joel’s brain. He even saw them etched into his eyelids when he closed his eyes. If only you’d known that the man standing in the bathroom doorway, watching you get ready, had a mind reeling with worry. Instead you, leaning over the sink, carefully applying eyeliner, snuck a glance at him through the mirror and only recognized how absolutely gorgeous he was.

He’d gotten back into his jeans and green flannel, much to your dismay for the want of his bare chest, broad shoulders, and soft stomach. His arms were folded over that now covered chest, shoulder leaning against the jamb, one foot crossed over the other. Despite you having been getting ready for the better part of an hour now, it hardly looked like his patience was waning. All too willing to have nothing more than your presence for as long as you’d have him. Even when you traded in your eyeliner for the tube of mascara and pulled the firm-bristled brush over your lashes, you heard him take a deep breath but it didn’t sound like an argument to the time you were taking to doll up. After all, it was the first time Joel would see you in any amount of makeup designated for him. You chose to forget the night he’d swooped up on your porch, handgun in his waistband, and shooed your pushy date away. Though that night you hadn’t gotten made up for him.

Face painted and ready to get changed, you waltzed past him in the threshold, keen to the fact that he spun slowly to keep you in his eyeline. Even took a couple steps in the direction of your bedroom before you paused and pressed a hand to his chest, insisting he go on and wait in the living room for you. You hadn’t needed help getting dressed since you were a kid. And it wasn’t like you were getting completely dressed up. Joel was in a flannel and jeans. It was all you needed to know he wasn’t taking you to some Michelin rated restaurant. You ventured to guess he’d take you somewhere a tad nicer than a diner, where food that would stick to your bones was served. So you emerged from the bedroom a few minutes later and pulled the door shut behind you until it clicked back on itself. His boots created soft thuds on the hardwood floor where he paced, waiting, anticipating.

All that stopped when you came into view.

You stood, arms held out to the side to show off the long, simple dress you’d thrown on. Something probably better suited for a day of peak summer day-drinking instead of a dinner date night nearing autumn. But you looked up into Joel’s eyes, seeing if you could figure out what he was thinking before he said it, and it wasn’t hard to do so. It was all written on his face. The way those dark brown eyes darted away from your face and down to the dress and the way the fabric flowed around your legs; a slit in the cotton skirt of it showing just the smallest hint and promise of the skin beneath. His jaw hung slack, forgetting to maintain whatever class or politeness he may’ve felt was deserved. And then all he did was shake his head, eyebrows raised, bouncing a curl loose over his forehead. 

“Good?”

“You look…” he shook his head again, advancing upon you with outstretched arms that eventually found purchase at your waist. Fingers dug firmly into it, squeezing. “You look great… beautiful,”

Though you could tell that’s what he thought, hearing him say the word made your heart jump into your throat. He kept ogling, staring, and now up close. Heat rose in your cheeks and you clutched your hands over his biceps gently, urging him back. “Should we get going?”

He nodded and took your cue. A few quick steps toward your front door and he was pulling it open with a protective and secure hand on your lower back as you passed by. It all started to feel very… adolescent. Like he’d picked you up from home, all nerves and anxiety. Like you hadn’t already seen each other naked a handful of times. Like he hadn’t already been informed of the way you seemed to get a little more turned on when he choked you. The way he opened the front door, and then stood by your side, hand still on your back when you descended the porch steps. How you crossed the street together like that, smiling and talking to each other. You weren’t sure if he noticed but you sure did. Noticed that Mrs. Cole was knitting on her front porch when you passed by, and how she stood from that rocking chair and made for the house as quickly as her old bones could take her, calling for her husband. Or the way Kelly… poor Kelly… paused her progress on helping her kid out of his booster seat in the car and stared, having to witness the man she wasn’t a match for, parade down the street with the new neighbor who seemed to be.

That one made you bow your head, trying to avoid not only her gaze, but Joel’s as well. Had your initial resistance to men and relationships been a game? One that the very core of his primal being couldn’t help but want to chase? Had you trapped him here in a false promise that if he caught you and won, there’d be a prize at the end? There was a very obvious and adult way of figuring that out. You could ask him. Talk it out and see what was there. But that would require you to make it real. To say that you were noticing something between you two, and if he noticed that too, which he surely would after you’d brought it up. So you swallowed it and smiled graciously to him as he pulled open the passenger side door of his truck and helped you up into it.

Once you were settled, he closed the door and circled the truck to his side, wasting no time in getting in the driver’s seat and starting the engine. The truck was in gear in no time, and right as he started off down the street, through the neighborhood, past all the nosy, small-town neighbors, he reached over and placed his hand on your thigh. Wrapping his fingers around it and giving a soft squeeze. You could feel his eyes shifting to you. Back and forth from the road to you; inspecting. And fearing that a conversation you wanted to delay would arise, you kept your gaze out the window. Downtown Austin was coming into view but Joel wasn’t exactly taking the route to get you to it.

“Slide on over here,”

Finally, you looked at him. He was already looking back at the road, but his hand on your thigh tightened and pulled, urging you closer to him. Closer meant he wouldn’t have as good of a view of your face, so you obliged. Moved yourself across the bench and settled in next to him, where his arm released your thigh and migrated up around your shoulders. His hand hung limp just over you.

“Nervous?” He asked and shook you gently. And being met with a questioning expression, he pressed a smile. “You’re kinda quiet,”

“Just thinking,”

“Uh oh,”

You nudged into his side, earning a more authentic smile and even a little chuckle. Foregoing focus on driving for a split second, he pressed his lips against your temple. “Wanna talk ‘bout it?”

A quick shake of the head was all you were hoping to have to do to dismiss the topic. Tell him? About how it was scaring the hell out of you that despite your best efforts and consciousness, you were somehow becoming dependent on him. Absolutely not.

Joel took a deep breath. He’d caught the shake of your head from the corner of his eye, and with your lack of clarification, his brain – which had already been on a witch hunt of its own – picked back up where it had left off. Only now you weren’t in front of the mirror with things that could be turned into eye weapons. You were just here. Next to him. Curled beneath his arm. And he couldn’t get this convoluted duality to quiet down. The one where part of it was riddled with this gentle caring and acceptance of what this was, and the other part that resulted in him finding his handprint on more than one spot on your body.

“I’ve been thinkin’ too, and I…”

He leaned forward in his seat, glancing out the side view mirror before he veered into the left lane. The silence gave you time to look up at him and study his face. The graying scruff at his jaw nearly meeting the curls that had grown long enough to wrap at his neck. 

“M’not sayin’ I didn’t enjoy it. I think it’s obvious I did,” he cleared his throat, attempting to get the image of you bent over the kitchen counter out of his head. His hand circled the steering wheel, fingers outstretched to make the right hand turn, before circling it back, getting it straight again. “Guess I’m tryna figure it out…” he paused and shook his head, deciding to ask a different way, “did your parents comin’ over have anything to do with… it,”

Your eyebrows furrowed, confusion sweeping through you. And figuring his brain was cannibalizing itself more than yours was, you set your hand in his lap and squeezed his thigh, giving him the permission to continue.

“You askin’ me to make it hurt,” his eyes flicked down at you. All you could do was cower a bit more into his side, but he lost the nerve to keep his eyes on you, and shook his head softly again. “I know you said I did what you asked, but I think I might’ve gone a bit overboard and actually hurt you, and…” he cleared his throat again. “If you asked because your parents showed up, and fuckin’ an older guy sorts out daddy issues, I… guess what I’m tryin’ to say is that’s alright if that’s what this is, but I need to know. ‘Cause then you’re saying stuff like you’re mine. And I know that was during sex, and I wouldn’t want to be held accountable for everything I say during sex, but…” He looked back down at you, the realization that he’d gone ranting catching up with him. 

Fortunately, or rather unfortunately, the drive was over. Truck now sat in a crowded parking lot. The world could look in and get a glimpse of something you’d rather have been doing in private. But Joel removed his arm from around your shoulders so he could turn the keys and pull them out of the ignition. “I can’t be the guy that marks up a woman like that,”

“Joel,”

“Not when she says stuff like she’s mine and… yeah I don’t care if it was just a during-sex thing.” He took a breath and cleared his throat, “so I don’t think I’m gonna be able to do that with you again. The really rough stuff. Maybe if you were a one night stand. But you’re not. You’re… you,”

“What’s that mean?”

He glanced at you sideways and pushed his door open, “means we’re on a date. Stay there,” he slid out of his truck and slammed the door shut behind him.

And even if you had been so inclined to move, Joel cut you off by hustling around the front of the truck so he could make it to the passenger-side door first. He tugged on the handle and held the door open for you; his free hand coming down for you to steady yourself on the jump out of the cab. You, however, growing uncomfortable with his honesty, stepped out of the truck by yourself, choosing to forego his help. That was the absolute very least you could do.

If there was any thought or hope that at some point through dinner you’d both snap out of it and return to the chemistry you so obviously had in private, that was squashed by the time the waiter set your plates down in front of you. Conversation had waned – nay, come to a complete stop – and your drinks were the only things keeping your mouths busy.

“Thank you,” you smiled up at the waiter. A quick flick of your eyes to Joel had you seeing that he’d gone straight for his fork and knife, even refusing to say a word to the waiter. Who, also feeling the awkwardness in the air, left your table as fast as humanly possible. 

“You gotta tell me what’s going on,” Joel all but demanded.

“What do–”

Beautiful, divine providence. That’s all that could be said for the way your phone started vibrating in your purse at that very moment. And under any normal circumstance, you would’ve ignored it completely. But it was a sign from God. A get out of jail free card. Only you did just that – scoured through your purse with your hand in the shape of a ‘search claw’ and rifled around until you felt it buzzing against your fingers. Another quick glance at Joel to find his expression now purely unimpressed, before you looked down at your phone screen. And seeing the name across it, you wished you hadn’t seen it at all. 

Joel noted how you re-hid your phone in your purse by clearing his throat. When it grabbed your attention again, he raised his eyebrows, “talk to me. And don’t say it’s nothin’.” He pushed a forkful of food into his mouth, and just when you opened your mouth to say something, he beat you to the punch, “be honest.”

“I’m not just fucking an old man to get over daddy issues, I’m fucking an old man because I like him,” you glared, a little meaner than you thought you’d be.

“Don’t pull punches,” he smiled.

“My mom is weak. My dad’s a steam roller. And I’ve spent my entire life being pitted against my sister in a battle of which one is prettier and which one is smarter. One of us was supposed to find a man to take care of her, and the other was supposed to get a career and take care of herself. Guess which one I am.” You lifted your wine glass to your lips, thankful this place had a somewhat palatable house red. “I asked you to make it hurt because I wanted to feel something. Something that overshadowed the things that their presence evokes in me. And if I’m being completely honest, I asked you to make it hurt because I like you. Because if you hurt me, I mean, really hurt me… even if it’s just in this way, then I can chalk you up as being like every other guy. No good,”

“You–”

“But I fucked up,” you interrupted him and set your wine glass back down. Cocked your head to the side and shook it absently. “Because you didn’t just hurt me like I asked you to. You fucking took care of me after. You ruined my plan,”

“Sorry,” he smirked.

You shook your head again. This time with more intent, “and Kelly saw us walking to your truck. She knows. And it looked like it broke her heart all over again. So I think we should stop doing this and you should give her another chance,”

“What about what I think?”

“Be able to give you the type of relationship you want. I think she’d make you really happy,”

“You make me happy,” he sat back in his chair and pressed a wide smile when that made your eyes return to his fully. “At least you do for now. Think you’re gonna be a pain in my ass in fifteen to twenty years, but maybe I’ll be dead by then,”

“Joel–”

“You know what I think?” He paused for effect but wasn’t actually looking for an answer from you. “I think it’s fucked your parents pitted you against your sister, knowingly or not. I think it’s fucked up that you were made to believe you’re only smart. I think you’re fuckin’ gorgeous. I think you should stop bein’ so afraid of wanting something. Or someone. And I think you should let me try and get you to fall in love with me.”

“Fall in love with you?” You exhaled in a way that sounded like a laugh of disbelief. “Good luck,”

He lifted his beer bottle, “don’t think it’ll be too hard. ‘Cause here’s the thing,” he scooted forward in his chair, a smirk growing across his lips as he leaned over the table toward you, “you ain’t never had a man take care of you before, and now you’re gettin’ a taste of it. You don’t know what it’s like to let a man in and let him love you. You won’t let yourself. Hell, you didn’t even know sex was supposed to come with aftercare.”

“Did too,” it dawned on you that you sounded more like a petulant child than a full-fledged adult.

“Yeah, you tryna sneak outta my house after the first time because I was gone a couple minutes… Sweetheart, you don’t even know what love looks like.” He took a sip of his beer, “how could you know something if it was never taught to you?”

You bit the inside of your cheek to try and keep the tears you felt burning in your eyes at bay. “What’re you trying to do? Make me feel stupid?”

Joel pursed his lips. His eyebrows furrowed and you couldn’t help but notice but the best description for the expression he now gave was remorseful. “To you, bein’ stupid must feel like the worst thing you could be, huh?” His eyes searched yours for affirmation to his question and found more than enough of it. “It’s not. And you’re not,” Joel reached forward and took your hand when you tried to grab at your wine glass again. He intertwined his fingers with yours and squeezed them tight, holding on despite you fighting him to pull away. “You’re not stupid,”

“Joel,”

“You hear me? You’re not stupid,”

“Stop it, Joel,” you pleaded, the first tear falling from your eye, trailing a wet line down your cheek.

“You’re not, babygirl,”

Finally you’d manage to pull your hand out of his grasp and raised both to your face, covering your eyes. You wouldn’t let him see you cry; to show your weakness. Your chest bounced and the breath caught in your throat as you tried to stifle your sobs. For the only thing worse than Joel seeing you cry, was the entire restaurant seeing you cry. And you’d either been at it for longer than you thought, or he managed to pay for the bill rather quickly, but either way, the next thing you knew was you were being hauled up to your feet. Joel kept a hand on your elbow and the other on your upper back. His thumb and index finger cradling the base of your neck to guide you safely out of the restaurant despite your head being bowed.

“Almost back at the car, sweetheart,” he murmured in your ear.

You figured as much. You’d taken far too many steps to not be back at his truck by this point. Just a few more steps. A few more staggered breaths as calmness still evaded you. Then you were pulled to a halt and Joel reached forward for the door handle. He’d only manage to tug the passenger door open before you were turning into him, standing up on your tiptoes to wrap your arms over his shoulders. Your face buried into the crook of his neck.

“I gotcha, babygirl. I got you,” he kept his arms embraced around you tightly. Squeezed you to his body and kissed your temple in the same moment you pressed your lips to his neck for a kiss. 

He rocked you side to side, almost like what you’d do to a baby to soothe them. And whether it was the motion, or the smell of him, or the feel of his lips on the side of your head while he whispered all the gentle things you’d always wished a man in your life would say…

You’re alright, sweetheart. 

I’m proud of you.

You’re safe.

You’re not stupid.

And all these things that sounded a little bit like I love you.

Your breathing evened out. Lungs filled with fresh air that also smelled like his cologne. Once you lowered yourself from your toes and returned to your normal height, you looked up at him and sniffled. If he could like you looking like this, he could like you anytime. And Joel, always unwavering, pinned a genuine smile to his face when you showed him your face again. He lifted his hands and cupped your cheeks; thumbs wiping away the wet trails your tears had left behind.

“Sorry,” you shook your head, giving him an exaggerated pout.

He shook his head in return, “no, no. You been carryin’ this weight a long time.” He wiped his thumbs over your cheeks again, this time with a nod. “Don’t I look like a big, strong man that can carry some of it?”

You looked up into his eyes, really hoping that what you’d find was yes, he did look like someone to carry some of the weight. You also hoped that if that was indeed what you found, that it wouldn’t scare you away immediately. “Take me home, Joel.”

✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿

Home.

Such an odd word to use with him.

Home.

What was that? Your house? His house? Either one as long as he was there? Maybe in this state you were just inclined to read too much into your own words. Let fear build in the recesses of your brain and wonder if they’d be the thing that would eventually scare him off. You figured it was just your own mind playing tricks on you. Making you believe the worst before it ever happened, as if to ensure that it would. A self-fulfilling prophecy. 

Joel certainly wasn’t making you feel that way. Not on the entire drive back home. One of his hands on the steering wheel, the other stroking over the back of your head, playing with your hair. Him checking in with you every time a red light stopped your forward progress. Y’alright? And the gentle smile he’d return when you assured him yes. Not when he walked you back up to your front door and waited for you to unlock it. His hand remained on your lower back, his thumb dragging lazy circles over the fabric of your dress. Not when you asked if he’d come in and his answer was an immediate and resolute, of course.

And surely not now when you returned to your bedroom and found him lounging back in your bed in his underwear, ogling you when you walked in in nothing but the green flannel he was wearing earlier. The buttons undone. The fabric undulating against your body. Desire and lust flared up in his eyes as you crawled up on the bed. 

“C’mere,” he cocked his head back, inviting you forward to his lap. 

Legs straddled his waist with ease as if it had been a move you’d been perfecting with him for years. His hands folded to your thighs. Strong fingers wrapped around supple flesh. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I don’t want you to stay over tonight.” You glanced to the side where Joel was already staring at you. “I’m exhausted,”

He chuckled and closed his eyes, turning his head straight again, “wasn’t planning on staying. Your bed fucked up my back.”

“My bed’s not the–”

Joel squeezed your thighs once, twice, quickly, “shh, c’mere, I wanna tell you a secret.”

You furrowed your eyebrows and pressed your hands to his chest. “What?”

“Come closer,” he whispered, very nearly forcing you to lean in just to be able to hear him.

So you did. Crowded his personal space and leaned in, very ready to turn your head to the side to get your ear closer to his mouth for this so-called secret. But Joel lifted his hand and took hold of your chin before you could turn it away from him. He held you there, and as your eyes widened in confusion, you noticed how his gaze danced over your face – from your eyes, to your nose, mouth, down to your chin where his grip grew gentler, and all the way back up to your eyes. And you opened your mouth to once again ask what the secret was, but your lips parted and before any noise could slip out, Joel met you the rest of the way. Leaned forward and pressed his lips to yours, softly and then all at once. He inhaled deeply and upon releasing your chin, cupped his hand over the side of your face; fingers cradling the back of your head while his thumb stroked over your cheek.

You parted slightly, catching your breath, “that’s a good secret.”

“Got somethin’ else to tell you,” he hummed, not wasting any time in getting you back into a kiss.

You smiled softly against his lips, allowing your tongue to meet his as it searched for entrance into your mouth. Finding it, a gravelly moan escaped his lungs, hung in the air between you for just a moment, until you swallowed it down. Beneath you, you could feel his length growing harder. Joel, too, let you know that he was aware of it. He let out another hum of recognition and reached around you with his free hand, ducking it beneath your ass, and tugged on the fabric of his underwear. 

With another breath, you pulled away from him and set your forehead against his. Eyes pinned downward, focused on your hands on his chest. Fingers dancing over the dusting of hair down the center. “D’you want me to blow you?”

His response was instantaneous. First by shaking his head. Then by the way he leaned in and pecked your lips, and the hand on your cheek drifted down to your shoulder and held you. “No… I–” he rested his head back on the wall behind your bed, “are you okay? I didn’t mean to make you cry earlier.”

For the second time that night, you opened your mouth to say something. To tell him it was alright. You know he didn’t mean to do that. And for the second time that night, your phone interrupted you. There on the nightstand, the whole thing buzzed. The wood tabletop seemed to accentuate the noise and both you and Joel turned to look at it. You know he saw the name flash across the top. And knew he clocked the way you leaned over to quickly turn the screen black again, sending the call to voicemail. It wasn’t the first time you’d done that tonight either.

“Y’wanna get that?” he prodded gently. But you were quick to shake your head and return to your spot on top of him, taking him into another kiss. He took your shoulder again and eased you back. “Might be important if they keep callin’,”

“It’s just my sister,”

Joel’s eyebrows raised. Eyes widened. The very sister that so much of your inner baggage was tied up with. He didn’t want to press. Didn’t want to urge you to divulge too much and end up in tears again. He knew he was treading choppy water.

“I’ll call her back tomorrow,” you mumbled, sounding less than enthused. Running your fingers through his graying scruff, you tried to ignore the fact that you really would have to call her back tomorrow. “Sure you don’t want me to blow you?”

He shook his head again. More insistent this time. “Just want to cuddle up with you before you kick me out for the night,”

You smiled, almost to yourself as you leaned forward, turning your head to the side and resting your cheek on his chest. Legs straddled his lap, arms wrapped around his torso, You couldn’t have been closer to him if you tried. A yawn torn you, absolutely exhausted from the entire day. The fact that your parents had been there that morning seemed like a lifetime ago.

Nuzzling into Joel, you let out a sigh, “your time tonight’s running short.”

He let out a chuckle, and the next thing you felt was his lips pressing down to the top of your head. A subtle nod of acknowledgment. 

✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿

You woke up due to a shuffling around your bedroom. Squinting into the sunlight that poured in through the window, you spotted Joel pulling his jeans up his legs. He fastened the button and looked in your direction.

“Mornin’,” he looked around, searching for his flannel that you’d thrown off sometime during the night. “I’ve got an early job,”

You nodded and pointed him in the direction of the foot of the bed where you knew he’d find his shirt. “So much for not staying the night,”

He followed your tip and retrieved the garment from off the floor, quickly sliding it on and doing up the buttons, “yeah, my back’s paying for it.” Rounding back to your side of the bed, he bent forward and kissed your forehead, “you wanna come over tonight?”

Foregoing everything but a nod, you let your tired eyes drift back shut. The next thing you felt were his lips on yours, giving a chaste kiss. It almost made you think you could do this every morning for the rest of your life.

Sometime between Joel using the bathroom and leaving the house, you fell back asleep. Taken back to recuperate from the previous day. Looking forward to doing nothing but lounging around and knowing you’d actually have to put in some work today. Two hours later when you woke again, the rest of the neighborhood had too. The sounds of the suburbs seeping in through your old single-paned windows. Note to self, get Joel to replace those with double-paned. 

Rising from bed and starting your morning routine, you noted all the other things around the house you’d have to ask Joel to do. Fix that annoying drip of your shower head. Replace the kitchen faucet to something not so antique looking. Blow out your dryer vent so you didn’t accidentally burn the house down. As you added each thing to the mental to-do list, it became increasingly more frightening how much you needed him to do. How much you needed him. And if that just didn’t make your coffee taste like tar.

It really started to weigh on you. How dependent you were on him being around. How you were spending practically every night with him. Thankfully, the buzzing of your phone pulled your attention away from cynical thoughts. Even if it was your sister calling again. Surely talking to her would be less painful than the rabbit hole in your brain.

“Hi–what?” You furrowed your eyebrows trying to make sense of your sister’s frantic words. It almost made you feel guilty for sending her to voicemail the previous night. “What’re you talking about?” Another pause but her voice didn’t get any less agitated. “Slow down, I can’t understand you,”

Once she took a breath you were able to catch up on her rant. And what you’d gathered was unfortunately something you’d seen had been a long time coming. New parents with a single income in southern California, your sister was cluing into the fact that her husband – the father of her baby – wasn’t exactly the dad she hoped he’d be. You wondered why she was surprised by his absent-mindedness. He hadn’t gone to any of her appointments. He hadn’t waited on her when she was nauseous or doubled over in pain. In fact, he didn’t do much of anything for her in the nine months of what you’d heard had been a pretty hard pregnancy. So her surprise at his absence now that the baby was here was baffling. But here she was, complaining to you about how he leaves for work early in the morning, and comes back in the evening. And though she too had spent the entire day working – as a mother – he didn’t help her with the baby when he got back home. He sat  around, waiting for her to cook dinner, and change the baby, and feed and bathe the baby. He bitched at her if the house wasn’t tidied up. Shit, he hardly even acknowledged the baby. 

And though you wanted to ask her why she was surprised – this is who he’d always shown himself to be – you knew that wasn’t helpful. This was your sister’s new reality. Surely she was growing aware of what a mistake it had been to be to hitch her wagon to him. And you pointing that out wouldn’t change anything. It would still be a mistake.

“What can I do?” It was the only remotely helpful thing you could think to say. And it was genuine. You imagined venturing into motherhood was hard enough. Doing so as if you were a single parent when you expected to have the support of a partner must’ve added to the difficulty. So when she told you the thing that would be helpful, you agreed immediately.

✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿

If Joel’s back wasn’t hurting enough before work, it surely was after. He limped up the stairs to his front door. One hand clutching the railing and the other clutching his lower back. The perfect night was looking like it’d include a heating pad and a lot of whiskey. He hoped you wouldn’t mind.

In fact, he’d just poured himself his first glass of whiskey when he heard the knock on the front door. Figured you saw him come home. He was going to be sure to make fun of you for watching him out your front window again. All ready to give you a good ribbing, he tugged open his front door with a big smile on his face. But upon seeing you, that vanished entirely. A large rolling suitcase was beside you. A carry-on sized duffel pack in your hands.

“Goin’ on a trip?”

“I’m goin’ to my sister’s house,”

His breath caught in his throat. He remembered all the calls you’d avoided the previous night. Wondered how catastrophically wrong it had gone for you to be leaving. “Why?”

“I don’t know when I’m gonna be back,”

“Can you come in so we can talk?” He stepped to the side to allow you space to come in. He wasn’t prepared for you to deny him.

“I have to catch my plane,”

“Is this because of yesterday?” He cocked his head to the side figuring you weren’t bound to tell him the absolute truth. Yet, he surmised he knew the real reason. “You’re spooked,”

“What?”

He nodded. Hit the nail on the head. “Something clicked in for you about us and now you’re spooked. Running away,”

“Am not,”

“Okay. Then tell me,”

“Joel, I have to go,”

“I’m not trying to trap you,” he murmured and stepped out toward you. “I don’t know what exactly got you spooked, but I’m guessing it probably has to do with me being around so much. Maybe I’m doin’ too much for you. Gotta get you to mow your damn lawn,”

“Joel–”

“I’m just trying to take care of you,”

“I don’t need you to take care of me.”

“I know,” he nodded and cupped his hand to the back of your head. “But I want to. And I can. If you’ll let me,”

“I gotta go Joel,” you pressed back against his hand, but he did he best to keep you in place.

“Give me a kiss,”

You knew it was probably the wrong thing to do given that you truly didn’t know when you’d come back. If you would come back, or if you’d spend some time back in California and end up selling your home here. You knew it’d be easier to cut him off here. But his lips looked so soft and you yearned to feel them at least one more time. So you did as he asked and leaned in for a kiss. Let him cradle your head with all the fondness in the world and give you the most tender kiss you imagined existed.

Joel didn’t want to let you go. He knew if he did, each day that passed increased the likelihood he’d never see you again. But you eventually won out. Pulled away enough that your lips parted and you took a step back. You stared up at him, not fearing his gaze, almost as if hoping to sear his image into your memory. Then with a sheepish nod, you turned with your suitcase and walked off his porch and to the awaiting car he hadn’t even noticed had pulled up to whisk you away from him.

[vanteguccir]

── ୨୧ !　𝗚𝗔𝗟𝗔𝗫𝗬 𝗚𝗜𝗥𝗟

　　　　　　　　　　𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 x reader

SUMMARY: Where Matt has a crush on Y/N, an influencer extremely well-known in the USA, but when she goes to the Zach Sang Show, Matt discovers that she also has a crush on him. When the two meet at a party, how will Matt react?

REQUESTED?: Yes, from anon.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

"Hi beautiful people! I'm Zach, and that is Dan, and welcome to the studio for the first time after many requests, Y/N!" Zach began with his standard intro, the camera moving away from him and onto Y/N, who was sitting comfortably on the couch facing her microphone.

"Hii, wow... I've lost count of how many nights I've spent hours watching your show, Zach, so being here is an honor! Thank you so much for having me." Y/N spoke with a smile on her face, her eyes shining with excitement.

"It's amazing to have you here too. Believe me, the honor is ours." Zach replied, smiling just as much. "But tell me, how is life? Crazy, I imagine." He asked with a smile, taking in Y/N's features.

"Don't remind me, literally crazy! As I have Instagram, Tiktok, and YouTube to manage and post content every day, at least in one, I haven't had time to stop much, you know?" Y/N spoke while gesturing with her hands. "But it's been incredible. Over the past five years, I've loved every moment of it."

"I can only imagine, especially since you have a knack for fashion too, right? I see you a lot at events." Zach commented, taking a sip of his water.

"Yes, exactly. My content is a little bit of everything: humor, fashion, relationships, makeup, Q&A, day-to-day life, etc. I like this really mixed stuff." The girl let out a laugh when she finished.

"Yes, I think that's what attracts so many audiences to you too, right? You have subjects that cover all audiences." Zach commented, receiving a nod from the influencer. "And tell me a little about how it all started, from the beginning."

"Well, I've always been a person who loved to talk, my friends at school joked that if I sat next to an unknown person for ten minutes, within the first minute I would come up with a random topic and start a conversation." Y/N smiled when she heard Zach comment that that was something super interesting and traits of an extroverted person. "Plus, I've always liked having an audience and social media. I had Musical.ly many years ago, where I posted short makeup and hair videos."

"Wow, Musical.ly, I completely forgot it existed." Dan commented, laughing along with the other two.

"Yes, it looks like it was a crazy dream." Zach nodded, glancing briefly at Dan before returning his gaze to Y/N. "I saw some videos from that time. You once mentioned that you took makeup courses, right?"

"Yes, I took makeup courses at Make-up Forever Academy while I was at school. It's always been my favorite hobby." Y/N said, as she stirred her Starbucks coffee cup, her drink still warm. "And on Musical.ly, I only posted that, but over time, the app lost popularity, and people started looking for me on Instagram. At the time, my Instagram was pretty empty, I didn't post almost anything there, just some also makeup things. But then, I needed to change that since Instagram gave me a lot more tools to create more expansive content. It was the moment that I completely lost my shyness with cameras, you know? That's when I started talking about other things besides makeup and hair, and the audience grew. Famous people started following me as well, I remember I panicked about that." She paused, laughing, accompanied by Zach, who was listening intently.

"And my followers started asking for a YouTube channel, where I could make longer videos and each one about something specific. I thought a lot about it, but I took courage and created my channel, and it totally exploded, almost all of my followers from Instagram started to follow me there, but on YouTube the number of people doubled."

"It caught the attention of the public who only used YouTube, right?" Zach commented, nodding in understanding.

"Exactly! And I was just with this two social medias for a few years, until I discovered Tiktok, that's when I discovered that it was like an improved Musical.ly, and that a lot of people made content just on it. I remember thinking: why not? I was already fully on the Internet, and it wouldn't hurt to have another social network. The audience continued to grow, and there were shares all the time, likes, and comments, and with that, we reached 16 million subscribers on YouTube and 6 million followers on Tiktok and Instagram." Y/N finished, her face showing a smile as she momentarily remembered her long journey there.

"Your history with the Internet is truly incredible, you are one of the biggest influencers in the United States and well known all over the world, having started at 15 years old and fighting to grow and gain your own space." Zach praised, clapping playfully as Y/N waved her hand like it was nothing, her face turning red in embarrassment. "But you mentioned a subject I wanted to bring up: celebrities." He said, laughing when he saw the girl take on a fearful look.

"Jesus, what are you going to say?" Y/N asked with a smile on her face, she had already opened up her life and tastes so much to her audience, that she knew she would definitely have said something about celebrities that she didn't remember at that moment, but that Zach would bring up.

"There was a video on Tiktok where you were answering a question from a fan, who had asked what your favorite YouTube channel and your celebrity crush were." Zach began, approaching the microphone to his face. Y/N widened her eyes, taking a sip of her drink to hide her expression, vaguely remembering the video in question. "And you answered that your favorite channel was the Sturniolo Triplets and that your celebrity crush was Matt Sturniolo, is that correct?"

"Oh my God." Y/N muttered, hiding her red cheeks in her hands. "Yes, it is." She let out a nervous laugh. "The triplets are super funny, I just love their content! I'm not going to lie, I've never missed a video of them. I saw that Chris came here this year, right? I think their journey with YouTube is incredible." She said, Zach nodding as he confirmed that Chris had been on the show recently.

"They really are incredible people. Their content is gold. But, is Matt still your crush?" He asked again, looking at her with a smile on his face.

"You're not going to let this go, are you?" Y/N asked as she smiled sheepishly. "Yes, he's still my crush. I mean, have you seen that man? He's hot, has an incredible sense of humor, and is kind! Just perfect, just no more than Harry Styles." She counted the characteristics mentioned with the fingers of her right hand, laughing when she mentioned the British singer, trying to take all attention away from her admission about her crush.

"Yeah, guys, it seems like if you're not Matt, or Harry, you don't enter Y/N's list." Zach joked, looking at the camera, receiving laughs from the other two there.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

The triplets were lying on the sofa in their home, each in a corner of the space, while using their phones. Sounds of tiktoks and reels echoed through the walls.

Nick was on his tiktok, browsing his For You, watching the millions of edits that his fans made for them, some videos of other subjects appearing from time to time. The boy let out a laugh when he saw an edit of himself with clips taken from the last car video, double-clicking on the screen to give it a like before scrolling his thumb up, Y/N's voice suddenly sounding from his phone.

Nick took his thumb away from the screen momentarily, paying attention to what one of his favorite influencers was saying, smiling as he heard her tell a little about her history with social media.

His smile was replaced by wide eyes seconds later when the girl's comment about his channel with his brothers and about Matt sounded.

"What?" He asked loudly, catching the attention of Matt and Chris, who had confused looks on their faces.

"What what?" Chris asked, locking the screen of his phone and tossing it to the side.

Matt only looked up from his own phone screen momentarily, returning his attention to his Instagram feed.

"You know Y/N?" Nick asked, his eyes darting from Matt to Chris quickly.

"That super famous influencer that Matt has had a crush on for years? Yes." Chris agreed, nodding his head as he adjusted himself in his seat, receiving a slap on the arm from his brother, who lowered his cell the moment the girl's name left Nick's lips.

"She knows who we are, and not only that, she talked about us on Zach's show." The redhead said with wide eyes.

"Zach Sang?" Matt asked, receiving a nod from Nick, who got up and walked closer to his brothers, sitting between the two and raising his phone, increasing the screen brightness and volume before hitting play on the tiktok again.

The video was a compilation of the show's favorite moments with the influencer. The triplets watched in silence until they got to the part where Y/N talked about her channel, also confirming her crush on Matt. Chris quickly turned his face to Matt with his mouth open in shock.

"Matt, THE Y/N has a crush on you." Nick reinforced, pausing the video and turning to his brother, who had wide eyes as he looked at the phone that had Y/N's face on the screen, a disbelief look on his own face.

"That's crazy." He muttered, shaking his head in denial. "It's not possible that my longtime crush has a crush on me, too. That only happens in movies. Right?" Nick rolled his eyes at the comment.

"It might be crazy, but it's not a lie. She wouldn't talk about our channel and reveal her crush on you if it was a lie or a joke." Chris commented as he fixed the hood of his sweatshirt, earning a nod from Nick.

"Next week, there will be that huge and super chic party for the biggest influencers and YouTubers in the United States here in LA, and we received an invitation. I'm absolutely sure she will be there. It would be a great opportunity to make contact with other YouTubers and get to know her, maybe even ask her to participate in a video with us." Nick reminded his brothers of the invitation, locking his phone screen and looking at the two.

"Are you sure about that?" Matt asked, an expression of uncertainty on his face. Out of the three, he was the least fond of parties, although none of them were very fond of it either.

"It would be great for the channel, Matt." Chris reinforced, shrugging. "It wouldn't hurt to try. If we don't like it, we can leave right away. But meeting Y/N seems amazing to me right now, and it would be a great opportunity for you."

"Okay."

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

"Are you guys sure about this?" Matt asked after turning off the key in the ignition, keeping his hands on the wheel as he looked ahead, his ears picking up the loud sound coming from the party.

"Matt, it's just going to be a test, okay? It's interesting for us to make more contacts." Nick responded from the backseat, resting his hands on the sides of the front seats as he looked in the rearview mirror, waiting for Matt to look back.

Matt looked up, focusing on Nick through the mirror, who had a neutral expression. The boy shifted his gaze to Chris beside him, who was already looking at him.

Chris offered a reassuring smile, taking his left hand to Matt's right shoulder, squeezing the area.

Matt exhaled deeply as he mentally prepared himself. It had been years since he had attended such a big party.

It didn't take long for the triplets to get out of the vehicle. Matt locked the doors before they started their walk to the mansion where the loud sound of pop music was coming from.

Nick quickly pulled from the pocket of his jeans the invitation he had received in the mail that stated his and his brothers' names on expensive-looking paper and beautiful writing, holding it ready to present to the security guards at the front.

After being granted entry, the three entered the house, stopping for a few seconds at the beginning of the living room while their eyes traveled over the people there, recognizing some of their social media.

The mansion was extremely chic, decorated with golden tones and diamond chandeliers, long marsala red curtains covered the huge windows and columns that resembled those of Greek temples were spread throughout the space, along with two staircases in each hemisphere of the room with wooden handrails and a red carpet that led upstairs.

Youtubers, influencers, and celebrities filled the space, talking or dancing, some drinking, dressed in extravagant and expensive clothes.

Chris surreptitiously pointed to a specific point, making his brothers look there.

"That's Y/N, right?" He asked, earning a nod from Nick.

To Matt, the earth seemed to have stopped spinning, and the world seemed to have become static. The celebrities in the room suddenly stopped, the sound became muffled, and the smell of drinks and perfume disappeared. His breathing seemed to catch, and his throat felt dry.

Y/N looked perfect, having opted for an all-silver outfit: a mid-length skirt with a thigh-high slit from Diesel draped in synthetic silver along with a white crop top also from Diesel adorned her body. A pair of thin silver high heels decorated her feet, complemented by a silver Diesel bag and jewelry in the same color.

She looked like she came out of one of those galaxy movies, but much prettier than its characters.

Matt could have watched her from afar for seconds or minutes, just admiring her beauty and every detail of herself, but it still seemed to be too quick for his liking. Nick woke him from his hypnosis with a weak slap to his chest, getting his attention.

"You definitely don't know how to disguise it." He commented, rolling his eyes.

"Shut up, Nick." Matt responded quickly, frowning and briefly looking at Y/N again, before turning to his brothers. "I'm going to get something to drink, are you coming?" He asked, needing a cold soda at that moment.

Chris nodded, answering for himself and Nick, following his middle brother to the bar that was in the separation between the kitchen and the living room.

The space was extremely chic, a circle-shaped bar with a gold colored counter decorated with details in yellow and navy blue tiles, giving an air of wealth. At the front there were stools with synthetic gold upholstery and at the back, after the space where the bartender circulated, there was a large circular and high table filled with all types of drinks, including the most expensive ones.

Matt leaned his hips against the counter, choosing not to sit down, and glanced briefly at the bartender.

Nick sat on the stool next to him and Chris sat next to Nick, the two starting a conversation about a subject that Matt didn't pay attention to, his attention focused on the people around him, or rather, on one specific person.

His blue eyes went back and forth to Y/N's silhouette, admiring her from afar as he wished to be by her side, accompanying her and being the person she was talking to.

The girl next to Y/N and who had been talking to her since the moment Matt entered the room walked away, saying something while blowing an air kiss to the influencer, who smiled in response and turned around, facing where Matt was, but not looking directly at him, running her eyes around the people while taking sips of her drink, probably alcoholic.

Matt took a deep breath as he gathered his courage, straightening up and starting to take long steps towards the girl, crossing the room and passing among the famous people there.

"Matt, what do you want to- Matt?" Nick began, turning to where Matt was and stopping mid-sentence when he saw that his brother was no longer there.

"He's on his way to get his pot of gold." Chris commented, poking Nick with the index finger of his left hand and pointing at Matt, who was already approaching Y/N.

The brunette stopped next to Y/N, turning so that he was also facing the people around and shoulder to shoulder with her, a few centimeters between them. His hands were in the front pockets of his jeans as he breathed slowly, trying to calm his nerves.

And then her voice sounded like it was the easiest thing she'd done all day. Her voice was silky in person, so inducing that it sent goosebumps across Matt's skin.

"You were working up the courage to say hi..." She lifts the glass, taking another sip, her lips shiny with gloss and bright red lipstick, her tongue escaping her mouth momentarily, licking the residue of the drink there. "Or would you just stare at me all night?" She turned around, facing him.

Matt almost choked on his own saliva as he heard Y/N confirm that not only had she noticed he was there, but she had also noticed that he had been looking at her this entire time. A weight settled in his chest. Perhaps it was shame or lust due to the way she said that without reservation.

"I didn't mean to disturb you. You seemed quite engaged in your conversation." He made up an excuse, knowing full well that he could have gone to the girl from the moment he arrived, but his fear of what would happen held him back.

"Engaged? In a conversation about who here has the most money and fame?" Y/N threw back, furrowing her eyebrows.

Matt looked around them, stopping his eyes briefly on the girl who had previously spoken to Y/N and who was now watching the people with a gaze torn between judgment and desire. A loud laugh escaped his lips as he shook his head in denial, the pettiness of some people impressed him.

"For what it's worth, you're the only famous person here that interests me." Matt commented, his blue eyes focusing on Y/N's face, analyzing her closely. An expression of satisfaction came over his face as he saw a red color take over her cheeks.

"You flatter me, Matt." Y/N looks back at him, their eyes meeting for a few long seconds, before hers travel across Matt's face, mentally taking note of every detail she could notice in the few seconds.

The boy smiled arrogantly when he saw her eyes on him, receiving an eye roll in response.

"Do you like what you see?" He asked, his voice taking a deeper tone and his pupil dilating as his lips stretched into a smirk.

"Don't let it go to your head." Y/N responded as she scoffed playfully, allowing the beginning of a smirk to emerge on the right corner of her lip.

At that moment, Matt felt like he could do something, anything, that would make her smile like that again or smile a bigger smile. He thought of a million possibilities of what he could say to cause that reaction in her, longing to feel the butterflies in his stomach again.

"You look beautiful tonight." Matt praised, his blue eyes traveling over Y/N's body momentarily, returning to her eyes. "Not that you just look beautiful tonight. You always look beautiful. But today you..." The boy tried to justify, getting caught on his words. "Look perfect."

A sigh escaped his lips, an apologetic look taking over his eyes as his right hand scratched the back of his neck lightly, feeling like a complete idiot for getting tangled up in front of the girl he has a crush on.

"I'm sorry, this isn't how I pictured myself meeting you." He groaned, looking at the ground in shame, hoping something would surge and save him.

"So you imagined meeting me?" Y/N smiled, feeling arrogant. She bit her bottom lip, feeling smug as she watched Matt blush and his eyes widen. "I'm kidding. You look beautiful tonight, too." Y/N let out a low laugh, returning the previous compliment, running her tongue between her lips, wetting them as her eyes traveled over Matt, pausing lingeringly on his exposed collarbone with the tank top he was wearing, the necklaces that decorated his neck made her mouth water.

Before Matt could even open his mouth to answer her, the sound of footsteps approached, catching both their attention. Y/N tore her eyes away from Matt's blue ones and looked ahead, seeing the same girl from before approaching again, holding herself back from instantly rolling her eyes.

The boy realized that the conversation would change direction and that, perhaps, he would no longer be included in it. A subtle sigh escaped his lips, and he tucked his hands into the pockets of his jeans again, looking at Y/N briefly, realizing that she was already looking back.

"I'm sorry." She asked, pressing her painted lips into a thin line before a beautiful, wide smile replaced it. "Text me on Instagram. You will be my priority to respond." Y/N spoke before being gently pulled away by her "friend", turning her face back quickly and sending the brunette a wink before looking forward again.

Matt watched her from behind as her high-heeled legs took long, quick steps away from him, a goofy smile taking over his features. He would definitely send that text.

[c0ld0utside]

May I request a yandere vampire mafia boss? I dunno you can ignore this if you want

Yandere Vampire Mafia Boss Dad

You got it!

Warnings: Inaccurate Mafia writing, Violence, Death, Kidnapping, Possessiveness

Years ago, before you were born, your father made a deal. In exchange for protection, loans, and medicine for his sick (and pregnant) spouse, they’d donate to another family in need. A family that the people in your downtown side of the city feared greatly, not just because the family was a literal Mafia.

They also weren’t human.

And, like most people in your downtown side of the city, they fell into debt a few years later when you were five.

Growing up, you were used to the man with pointy ears, clear skin, and piercing eyes visiting every three months. Your parents always made you hide out of sight when he was around, usually putting you in your room and telling you that it was nap time or something along those lines. Usually, something that involved you being quiet.

Sometimes, you’d peek through the gaps in the doorway, seeing the much taller stranger tower over your parents and speak with them for a few minutes before taking something and leaving. Sometimes he’d be nice, and sometimes he’d be rude. Sometimes he wouldn’t say much and go on his way. Sometimes someone else showed up.

That day was different though. It was the man you saw most of the time who showed up. You don’t remember the exact words, something about your parents falling far behind in their payments and how their time was up. Your mother had gasped and started begging, your father was trying to negotiate, and before the stranger could do anything you bolted out of your room and hugged your father’s leg.

The stranger paused immediately, eyes going wide. Your father quickly scooped you up and handed you to your mother, who started to back up. She froze when the man hissed at her. Hissed.

“You didn’t tell me your woman was pregnant.” The man said, a furious undertone in his voice. “The Boss isn’t a complete brute, you know.” He went silent, gaze drifting around your home as your father started up again. He wasn’t listening, taking in the worn and unclean scenery. Your home went from being well taken care of to a complete mess over the years.

And then his gaze landed on you.

Judging by the looks of it, you were your parent’s first priority. That gave him some relief, but the stranger knew your parents couldn’t balance you and their debt anymore.

“Y’know, my Godfather lost one of his fledglings recently.” He says. “You remember Matteo, right? Poor kid, only seventeen. May he rest in peace. Godfather’s really torn up about it.”

“No,” Your father says automatically. “Don’t be stupid. You can’t take care of them any longer,” The stranger says, gesturing to you. Instinctively, you cling to your mother and she starts to cry. “Now, now, it’ll be alright.” The man says, voice oddly gently. “If you hand them over, you and your lady will live. I’ll speak with the Boss and we’ll see how things go.”

“I don’t think your boss will be too happy about the idea of replacing Matteo,” Your father says firmly, earning a fist to the face shortly after. You can’t help but scream and the stranger cringes at the sound. “It’s not like that,” The man hisses, kicking your father in the stomach and watching him roll into the kitchen. “Now quit arguing with me and hand over the damn kid.”

You aren’t sure what happens next- it’s all a strange blur. Your father grabs something and tries to attack the stranger with it, and the next there’s red all over the walls and your mother is screaming while the man wipes and licks the red off of his face. He sighs in disappointment again. “It doesn’t have to be this way, lady. Just give them to me-”

She tries to run. Tries to run past him with you in her arms, tears streaming down her cheeks. Her plan is simple- get outside and start screaming for help. People will notice. They always do-

You’re ripped from your mother’s embrace and are pulled into the stranger’s chest. The smell of cypress fills your nose, drowning out the smell of iron. Your mother screams your name and gets cut off. It’s only when the man starts to shush you that you realize you’ve been crying and calling out for your mom and dad.

“It’s okay, they’ll be okay.” The man says soothingly, but you know it’s a lie. “They couldn’t take care of you anymore, but the Boss will. He’ll be very happy to meet you.”

-

The Boss observed you the whole time the stranger explained what happened.

“…I know his passing was recent, but I thought-” The man spoke up, but the Boss held up a hand to silence him. “Thank you, Virgil. You may leave.”

“I need to get to know my youngling, after all.”

With a nod, the stranger- Virgil- left the room. The two of you sat there in silence for a while. The Boss was the first to speak.

“What’s your name, little one?”

“[Name],” You reply, voice hesitant and small. He notices immediately and his gaze softens. “Come here, tesoro.” He commands gently, motioning for you to come closer to him. It takes you a few seconds, but with shaky steps you walk over to him. Once close enough the Boss picks you up and places you on his lap.

“My name is Massimo,” He introduces with a small smile. You go cold when you see his fangs, starting to lean away from him. “Oh? It’s alright, tesoro, you’re safe. Now where was I…? Ah- yes, I am Massimo, and I will be your guardian from now on.”

-

Your new life starts out rough for everyone. You’re quiet, keeping to yourself and not engaging. Massimo tries his hardest, talking to you as you sit on his lap while he works. He even takes the time to try and play with you, bringing you dolls and making them do silly things. You smile softly, sometimes even laugh, but it always dies back down.

He sits with you when you eat your meals, taking note of the ones you seem to enjoy and dislike. Massimo tries using desserts to get you to be more talkative, but it doesn't really work. He doesn't give up, though. He'll keep trying no matter what.

When you’re not quiet, you’re crying. You ask for your mom and dad, wanting to go back home. Wanting to see if they’re okay. Wanting to watch TV with your dad and hear stories from your mom. Massimo can’t blame you for not understanding fully just yet. He shushes you, wrapping you up in a hug and rocking you back and forth.

“Your Mama and Papa are gone, tesoro mio, but it’s okay. They’re okay. I’m your parent now, you just need to get used to it.” Massimo whispers, patting your back gently. “But I want my real parents,” You hiccuped, making him frown. “Your real parents couldn’t take care of you anymore, caro/a. So they gave you to me. Virgil had to hurt them because they changed their mind at the last minute and tried to hurt him.”

“You have to understand gioia, if they kept you, you would’ve gotten hurt. Your Mama and Papa were already hurting you. They were selfish. But it’s all okay now, because I’m here. And I won’t ever hurt you. Now shhh, go to bed. I know sleeping during the day is hard, but we need to prepare you for when you officially become my fledgling.”

…

Hey it’s me! The end of the post! I feel like making a part two. Still new to this whole “writing and sharing” thing, hoping it’s been good so far. Let me know if I missed any warnings and do give me criticism. You look lovely today! Take care of yourself and drink water. Go have a snack, too.

[rubytuby]

surprise

patrick zweig x fem!reader 

word count: 3.3k (LOL)

warnings: established relationship with patrick because i'm lazy, art is your best friend, mentions of getting drunk but it's college so like to be expected… also allusions to sex haha but um i just love to write a cutesy plot.

note: i am normal about patrick zweig, i feel so normal about him #needthat. jokes, but i am in love with him its so bad, i wish he was real. also please don't be offended by my tashi erasure, still love her, but she didn't exactly fit in here. obv this is not canon bc you're dating patrick in stanford era instead of tashi, anyways, hope you enjoy <3.

FEBRUARY 23 2007, STANFORD

The sun hung low, casting long shadows over the tennis courts as you and Art wrapped up your practice session. Both of you were drenched in sweat, Art slung his tennis bag over his shoulder and jogged over, his face lighting up with a mischievous grin.

“So uh, want to walk back to the dorms together?” he asked, sounding overly eager.

You squinted at him, wiping your forehead with the back of your hand. “Sure, but I need to shower first. You know, make it seem like I haven’t been pushed to my physical limits,” you said, gesturing to your sweaty attire.

Art laughed. “You have a single, why don't you just wait until you get back to your dorm?”

You groaned, shoving your racket into your bag. “That's the problem. The maintenance guy showed up at 7:30 this morning to tell us they’re shutting off the water from 8:00 a.m. to 4:00 p.m. only on my floor for some urgent plumbing issue.”

“Damn, that sucks. Are they even allowed to do that without giving anyone notice?”

“That's what I asked, but apparently, giving us 30 minutes notice is considered adequate. So, technically, they can,” you replied, rolling your eyes in exasperation. “I’ll be quick, though. Just need to rinse off. If you don’t wanna wait for me to chill, you can walk back to the dorms. I won’t be offended.”

Art shook his head. “I’ve got time, I’ll wait. I’ve gotta call someone anyways,” he said plopping down the bench and pulling out his phone.

“Alright weirdo, if you’re sure,” you said, dropping your tote bag next to him. “I’ll be super quick.” With that, you darted off to the girls' locker room.

As soon as you disappeared, Art pulled out his phone and dialed Patrick’s number. The phone barely rang before Patrick answered, his voice tense with impatience.

“Are you guys on the fucking way yet or am I going to have to wait longer?”

“Hello, sunshine!” Art greeted cheerily. “Your beloved is taking a quick shower. We’ll be there in about 25 to 30 minutes.”

Patrick groaned loudly. “Why didn’t you just tell her to shower in her dorm? I’ll lick the sweat off her if it means not waiting any longer.”

Art grimaced at his best friend’s comment. “The water’s out on her floor. She said she’s literally only rinsing off and changing. Just be patient. I’ll text you when to leave so we can time it perfectly.” A sigh rang out on the other line.

“If this plan doesn’t work and I’ve been hiding from my girlfriend for a couple hours for no reason, I’m going to seriously hurt you,” Patrick grumbled, staring out Art’s dorm window.

“Well she definitely thinks you're in New York visiting your parents,” Art paused, “I just had to talk her down from buying a plane ticket, so I think we’re good.”

“I told her I just got into the city a couple hours ago when I actually got to SFO. She was so upset yesterday when I said it’d be five days until we saw each other. She called me a fucking asshole, so I dont know what to do anymore.” Patrick said as he flopped onto Arts bed.

Art scribbled on his worksheet, humming in response. “Well, at least you know that she definitely misses you.”

“Yeah, but I’m not sure if she misses me or just wants to slap me in the face,” Patrick replied, exasperated.

Just then, Art saw you coming out of the locker room, chatting with one of your friends on the team. “Hopefully not the latter. Anyway she’s out. See you at 15. Don’t be late,” Art said flatly before hanging up, knowing Patrick and his unfortunate untimeliness. 

Art smiled up at you as you approached. “Who was that?” you asked, eyebrows raised.

“Our shared lover,” Art replied with a laugh, haphazardly shoving his worksheet and phone into his bag as he stood up.

“Aww, any exciting updates from Pat? He still stuck with his parents for another five days?” you teased, sticking your tongue out playfully.

“He just got to the city. He mentioned playing on the East River courts and paying someone to hold a spot for him,” Art lied smoothly.

“Sounds about right,” you said, sighing. “Anyway, I was talking to Nathalie over there…” you squinted, linking arms with Art as the two of you started the walk back to your dorm. “She mentioned a frat party happening tonight. Since Patrick’s trapped in New York, I figured why not go?”

“There’s going to be a keg stand, a ton of alcohol, and some shitty DJ or something,” you added, glancing at a group of students touring the campus before turning back to Art.

Art nodded, slightly wincing at the mention of the keg stand. “Wow, sounds like a lot of fun,” he replied sarcastically, earning a nod of agreement from you.

“I was planning on skipping it, but Nathalie really wants me to go. I thought if you came with me, it might actually be fun. Better than wallowing in my room wishing Patrick was here,” you admitted, biting your lip.

"Well, we had fun at that party last Friday, you remember right?" Art asked, smirking.

"Remember is a strong word," you replied, shaking your head with a laugh. "I think I have bits and pieces from that night. I do remember waking up still drunk at noon with my t-shirt on backwards and you snoring next to me in bed. Also like 5 missed calls from Patrick."

Art flashed you a lopsided grin. "Well, your bed's comfy, but I thought I was going to roll off in the middle of the night."

"Well, I stayed in my corner, I was flush against the wall as you were all sprawled out making yourself at home on my bed," you teased, nudging him playfully.

As you approached your dorm building, you noticed Art’s phone buzz. He glanced at it quickly, fumbling to put it away as a smile grew on his face. “What’s with the grin, weirdo?” you asked, narrowing your eyes suspiciously.

“Oh, nothing. Just a funny text,” Art replied too quickly, stuffing his phone back into his pocket.

You rolled your eyes. “You’re terrible at lying, you know that?”

“Who, me? Who said I’m lying, I’m the picture of innocence,” Art said defensively.

You shook your head. “Sure you are. Anyway, I think I’m gonna drop my stuff on the floor, crawl into bed, and maybe take a nap. Maybe we can think about that party, I can call you at 11 so we can pregame.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Art said with a nod. “I’ll walk you to your door.”

You smiled gratefully as the two of you ascended the stairs to your floor. Art talked animatedly about his plans for the weekend while you half-listened, preoccupied with thoughts of collapsing onto your bed and taking a deserved long nap.

"Yeah anyways, I'm thinking of catching up on some studying, this english class is kicking my ass," Art continued, unaware of your drifting attention. "Maybe I’ll go on a run later though. You could join me if you wanted, if you’re up."

"Maybe," you replied absentmindedly, reaching a hand into your tote bag sifting for your keys.

As you reached your door, frustrated with your bag, you dropped your tennis bag and lifted your whole tote up, practically sticking your face in it to find your keys. "I hate these fucking tote bags, I can’t find shit," you grumbled to Art, feeling a tap on your shoulder.

Startled, you turned around with a scowl— until you saw Patrick standing there, a mischievous grin on his face. "Patrick! What the fuck? What are you doing here-” you exclaimed, letting your tote bag fall to the floor and throwing your arms around him in a tight hug.

Patrick laughed, hugging you back just as tightly. "Surprise" he exclaimed, holding you close, smiling at Art over your shoulder.

You pulled back slightly, giving him an incredulous look. "You asshole! Trapped in New York with my parents, my ass!" you shook your head, playfully hitting him on the chest.

Patrick held his chest dramatically and leaned in, kissing your cheek lightly. "All part of the plan," he murmured. “Plus, I had a little help," he added, nodding towards Art, who was standing nearby with a smug expression.

You turned in Patrick's arms to face Art, scoffing in shock. "Art, you were in on this? You’re such a liar," you exclaimed.

Art shrugged. "Hey, I was just hosting him at my dorm while we were at practice. Technically, I didn’t lie—I just omitted a few details," he explained, grinning.

"How could you do this to me? Traitor!" you said dramatically, though a smile tugged at the corner of your lips.

Patrick wrapped his arms tighter around your waist, pulling you closer against him and resting his head on your shoulder. "Come on. You know it was worth it," he said, his tone teasing.

You sighed playfully, shaking your head at the pair of them. "I guess I can forgive you both this time," you conceded.

Patrick’s hand gently brushed through your hair as he settled his head into the curve of your neck. “You know I can’t stand it when you’re mad at me,” he said softly.

As you lingered in Patrick's embrace, you paused. "Wait, where's all your stuff?" you asked, pulling back slightly and turning to look up at him.

Patrick grinned, nodding towards your door. "In your dorm," he replied casually.

“Wow, Breaking and entering," you quipped, crossing your arms squinting at Art.

Art interjected with a laugh, "Actually, perfectly legal entering. You're the one who gave me a spare key."

You shook your head, "That's for emergencies, Art," you retorted, shooting him a mock glare.

Patrick turned you around to face him, his hands resting gently on your shoulders. "Come on, admit it, you're impressed," he teased.

You sighed, "I'm shocked you guys were able to pull this off, honestly," you admitted, shaking your head with amusement. Patrick laughed softly, rubbing your back soothingly.

Reluctantly pulling away from Patrick's arms, you grabbed your tote bag from the floor, turning to face Art and Patrick. "As much as this hallway talk is very exciting, I seriously need to find my keys. I'm exhausted," you declared half-joking.

After a brief search through your bag, you finally located your keys nestled among your belongings. Patrick picked up your tennis bag with a playful grin, indicating his readiness to follow you inside.

"Alright, Art, thank you," Patrick called out over his shoulder as you unlocked the door.

Art waved casually. "Have fun, be safe you two. I'll see you later," he replied as he walked down the hallway.

As the two of you entered your dorm room, you barely had enough time to place your bags on the floor before Patrick closed the gap between you and him and crashed his lips onto yours. His hands pulled you against him as he pressed your back against the door, placing his hands on either side of you almost boxing you in. His kisses were sloppy, teeth colliding as his lips moved against yours, hands desperately roaming your body, as if he couldn't get close enough to you.

You responded eagerly, melting into his embrace, your own hands finding their way into his hair, tugging him closer. His lips moved hungrily against yours, his tongue tracing your lower lip, hands roaming over your back, then up to cradle your face, pushing strands of hair away as he deepened the kiss.

"Patrick," you managed to gasp between kisses, your chest rising and falling with each breath. "I... I need to put my stuff away," you painted, reluctantly pulling back

Patrick leaned back, a mischievous smirk on his face, moving over to lean against your desk. "Sure," he murmured, his gaze lingering on you as you took out some things from your bag. "So, how was practice?" he asked, his voice low, as he looked you up and down.

You scoffed, a hint of satisfaction playing on your lips as you organized. "Heinous. I keep getting paired with this girl on the team who can't return any of my serves," you replied exasperatedly, glancing over at him.

Patrick raised an eyebrow, "maybe you should just go easy on her."

You shook your head, clicking your tongue in frustration. "I've tried to go easy on her, but she can't even play me when I do that. She acts like it's my fault she can't play for shit," you paused to sigh.

Patrick grinned, tracing a hand up and down your arm. "We both know you're too good for stanford women's tennis," he murmured, moving from the desk to stand behind you, his hands coming to rest on your hips and giving them a quick squeeze.

You whipped your head around, rolling your eyes and scoffing at his comment. "Careful," you say firmly.

Patrick put his hands up in mock surrender, his cocky grin never faltering. "Alright, alright. Sorry, my bad," he said. "You're right."

As an unspoken apology, Patrick moved closer, his hands gently moving up to your waist as he leaned in to kiss your neck softly. His lips left a warm trail on your skin, "I missed you," he murmured between kisses, his breath hot against your ear. “So much.”

You tilted your head slightly, allowing him better access, closing your eyes briefly to savor the sensation. "I missed you too," you hummed, your voice softening as you turned to face him fully. Your hands came to rest on his chest. "You know, I wish you would’ve just told me you were coming," you teased, carding your fingers through his hair.

Patrick's playful demeanor softened as he gazed into your eyes, his fingers brushing against your cheek as he pushed a stray lock of hair behind your ear. "Sorry again," he murmured sincerely, his breath mingling with yours. "Do you still love me?" he asked, clearly teasing and testing you.

You couldn't help but smile, your fingers threading through the strands of his hair at the nape of his neck. "I still love you, even with your elaborate lies," you replied, planting a sweet kiss on his lips. "But I have to say I knew something was up. Art was being weirder than normal."

Patrick hummed, his hands gently caressing your sides as he leaned in for another kiss.

"Hey? Are you even listening to me?" you asked, blinking up at him, a playful smirk tugging at your lips.

Patrick paused, his forehead resting against yours as he looked into your eyes. "Sorry, what did you say? I was a little distracted," he said, smiling.

You laughed softly, giving him a light shove. “I said Art was acting weirder than normal. I could tell he was hiding something.”

He shook his head and grinned, suddenly, he scooped you up over his shoulder, eliciting a surprised laugh from you as he carried you to the bed. Playfully flopping you down, his hands on either side of your head as he leaned in to kiss you again, his lips warm and insistent.

"So, what's our plan for tonight?" he asked between kisses, his fingers tracing light patterns on your sides.

You sighed softly, your words catching in your throat as his kisses became more fervent. "Well, there's this party my friend invited me to," you managed to say, struggling to speak coherently. "But last time I went out with Art, it was a shit show," you paused, trying to focus as his lips trailed down your collarbone, "but you're here, so we can do… whatever you want," you finally managed to say, your voice breathless with desire.

"Can we?" Patrick teased, his tone dripping with innuendo, his kisses becoming more urgent and needy.

You sighed deeply, rolling your eyes. "You know, you're impossible," you muttered, shaking your head. "But yes, we can."

Patrick grinned triumphantly, his hands roaming over your body as he leaned in to kiss you again, his hunger for you evident in every touch and movement. "Good," he murmured against your lips. "I think I just want you to be myself tonight."

"Freaky," you quipped, biting your tongue to hide a laugh.

With a self-assured grin, Patrick swiftly removed his T-shirt, revealing his lean and tan body. His gaze never left yours as he leaned back in, his lips finding yours with intensity. Your fingers traced lightly over his chest as you meshed together, and through kisses, you opened your eyes for a moment, gaze fixed on the freckles dotting his nose and cheeks.

"You've got more freckles," you observed with a playful smile, pulling back slightly, teasingly tracing each tiny mark with your fingertip.

Patrick grinned warmly, his eyes crinkling as he removed his lips from yours pulling you into a tight hug. "You're so cute," he murmured, squeezing you against him. His hands gently moved up to cup your face, his thumbs brushing against your cheeks as he pulled you closer, lips looking for another kiss with a soft sigh of contentment slipping out. His gaze, filled with adoration and longing, locked onto yours, silently expressing his deep affection.

"Fuck, you're so pretty," he whispered, his voice low and filled with awe. You locked eyes with him, your own expression softening as you smiled, your fingers tracing the curve of his jaw.

Without breaking eye contact, Patrick's hands moved to the hem of your T-shirt, his touch almost insistent. He lifted the fabric, exposing your skin to the cool air and his heated gaze, with the T-shirt slipped over your head and thrown to the floor, forgotten. His gaze traveled downward, taking in the sight of you, bare-chested in front of him, a cheeky grin began to spread across his face. 

You rolled your eyes, whacking his arm. "Are you 13?" you teased.

Patrick laughed, unfazed as his hands and mouth roamed your newly exposed skin, his lips moving back to your collarbone, placing soft kisses along its length. Your remaining clothes were shed in a flurry, falling to the floor as you both moved with urgency desperately reconnecting.

Finally, as your kisses slowed and the two of you were breathing somewhat heavily, you rolled onto him, resting your head on his chest. His arms wrapped around you instinctively, pulling you close, with the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your ear.

"I love you," Patrick murmured softly, placing a lovingly sweet kiss onto your forehead.

You met his gaze with a soft smile. "Is that just because we had incredible reunion sex?" you teased lightly, a playful challenge in your voice. "Or do you love me all the time?"

Patrick laughed, his fingers moving up and down on your back. "Only for the sex, it's usually worth the plane ticket," he teased back, with a smile. "Just kidding. I love you all the time," he replied earnestly, as a grin started forming on his face.

Leaning up from his chest, you pressed a sloppy kiss against his mouth, your hands tangling into his hair as you felt the corners of his lips curve into a smile against yours. "I knew it," you murmured against his lips, a hint of amusement in your voice.

"Say it back," Patrick urged with a playful grin, attempting to deepen the kiss, but you playfully pulled away before he could capture your lips again.

Rolling your eyes theatrically, you feigned annoyance, though your smile betrayed your true feelings. "Fine," you replied, leaning in to kiss him once more. "I love you too, freak."

[adoreeenina]

For You, I’ll Risk It All

Part one: High School Crush

-Series Masterlist-

Relationship: DBF! Hank Voight x Plus Size! Olinsky! Reader

WC: 7.3k

Series Summary: He is corrupted and vicious, nothing but a dirty cop. At least that's what you've been told by your mother. You hated him and you weren't afraid to show it at the slightest, but that all changed when he protected you from going to jail when you were 18.

Coming back from New York after five years, you decided to live for yourself for once.

You didn't expect it would start by falling for Hank Voight.

You know your dad's best friend.

Being one of the well known detective’s daughter has its perks, the main one is protection from anyone and anything, the second anyone hears your last name, they quickly back off, knowing what to come of them if they even lay a finger on you; but it also has its downfalls. One of them involving dating.

Anyone who you brought home were intimidated by him almost immediately, you’re pretty sure they know about your fathers being a dirty cop, or atleast the whispers.

Yes. You knew about it, you always known since you were thirteen. You remember the late night arguments between your parents, you would be sitting down on top of the stairs and listen. They weren’t exactly being quiet, atleast your mother wasn’t. Your father trying to calm her down or atleast keep it quiet before you or your sister wake up. Since then, you try to keep your sister Lexi in the dark as much as you can, she doesn’t need to know how many people your father killed.

And that’s where Hank comes in. You haven’t met him yet or seen him. Your mother always mentions him in almost every argument she has with your father. Blaming him for getting your father involved in his dirty work and maybe one day getting himself killed because of it. And that thought scared you.

You were sixteen when you met Hank for the first time. It was the middle of your summer break. Your sister wanted to go to summer camp and your mom volunteered to be one of the chaperones, and the offered you to be home alone most of the time when your father works.

On the rare days when your father gets those days off, he spends them with you. You were having a movie night. Your father let you choose, you decided on a horror movie, Conjuring. You were in the kitchen making popcorn, one with kettle corn powder and the other with white cheddar.

You were making your way to the living room when the door bell rings. Startling you, you pause mid step, you look up the stairs where your father is doing god knows what.

Then you remembered your dad ordered pizza from the closest pizzeria 15 minutes ago. Your stomach grumbled when you thought of food, and you couldn't wait to dig in.

Walking the rest of your way to the living room, you place the bowls of popcorn down on the coffee table. Grabbing money out of your dad’s wallet, you quickly walk over to the front door.

Opening the door, ready to hand the delivery person the money, but pause when you see an unfamiliar man you’ve never seen before.

The man before you stood about 5’10, cropped black brown hair that was greying from the temples upwards and brown eyes that considered you carefully. He had the jaw line of a Greek God.

He looks down at you with a raised brow in confusion. Why the hell is he looking at you like that? If anyone should be staring like that should be you.

He scans you and you only just now realize what you are wearing. Or lack of what you are wearing. In your blue Cookie Monster pajamas shorts and an oversized black shirt that hangs on your left shoulder.

Feeling a little selfconscious by the way he’s looking at you, you subconsciously pull down your pajamas shorts down.

Pushing your feelings aside, you cross your arms across your chest and glare at the man trying to be intimidating but it only amuses him.

“Can I help you?” You ask not caring how rude you might’ve sound.

You could’ve sworn you saw the corner of his mouth twitch as though trying to stifle a smirk, after silently considering you for a few more painful seconds, he decided to speak.

“Hank Voight. I’m looking for Alvin.” your brows raised up slightly at the name.

“Sorry. you must got the wrong house. I don’t know any Alvin.”

He hums in the back of his throat, the only acknowledgement he gave to your answer.

If he is who he says he is, you don’t want him here at all. You only know what your mother said about him. He’s nothing but a dirty cop. Your mother would be infuriated if she were here.

“You sure?” He squints at you, obviously giving you a chance to be honest with him.

You give him a sarcastic smile, “I’m sure.” taking a step back, you grab onto the door to close it, “Sorry you didn’t find what you were looking for” you fake being sympathetic. “Bye bye.” you wave as you close the door with a smile.

“Y/n!” You hear your dad’s fast footsteps rushing behind you to stop the door from closing, grabbing the door to allow it to fully open.

“What?” You faux innocence. Your dad looks down at you with a stern look obviously not buying it.

Turning to face Hank with apologetic grin, “Sorry. My daughter can be a little asshole.”

“Dad!” You gasp with a glare his way.

Hearing Hank chuckle under his breath made you snap your head at his direction and glare.

Spurred by annoyance, you contemplate just slamming the door to his face, the scolding you might get be damned.

“Why the hell is he doing here?” Your face scrunch up as you wave your arm at Hank’s direction.

“Alright, Y/n that’s enough.” your dad grabs you by your bicep and tugs you away from the door.

“You know mom won’t like it if she finds out he’s here.” you whisper. Your dad sighs, glancing at Hank before dragging you to the kitchen.

“That’s why we won’t tell mom.”

“What?”

“Look sweetheart-“

“Are you leaving?” You cut him off. His face softened hearing the distressed pain in your question.

“Y/n-“

“You promised you would spend the day with me. I miss spending time with you, I never get to see you. All you focus on is your stupid job…. Is this why mom made you move to the garage?”

Alvin was lost for words. He should’ve known better he’s oldest daughter would’ve caught on with all the fight and late discussion he had with Meredith. It hurt him the way Meredith looks at him but it hurts even seeing the broken look in your eyes.

“Y/n.” he reaches his out to you, making you take a step back. Feeling betrayed and hurt.

“Actually, You know what dad? You can do whatever you need to do. Clearly I’m not your first priority.” pulling your arm out of his grip, you move past him, and grab your phone from the table.

“Y/n!” Alvin calls behind you, but you ignore his calls, not giving a glance towards the door, knowing Hank is still there waiting. You rush up the stairs to your room, slamming the door behind you.

You might’ve been dramatic, overthinking, or overreacting, but since that day, your relationship with your dad hasn’t been the same. You’ve always been daddy’s girl, so it hit you pretty hard not having that kind of relationship with him anymore. But you were tired of being put a side and not being a priority, you miss spending those days where it’s just the two of you, it could be him taking you shopping,or taking you to the ice cream parlor, or just taking to the park.

Now, it’s like you don’t even have a father, at least one that’s present in your life. Not only is your relationship with your dad went downhill, your mom isn’t any better.

Your mother can be a bit overbearing at times. At least with you. Mostly about your weight. She always been pretty brazen about her opinion on your body. Telling you to lose weight by going to the gym, go on a diet, even going as far to suggest some supplements she seen on TikTok that could help you(which you know are BS).

You’ve always been a big girl, even when you were a little girl. Though you went through puberty pretty early in your life, your curves came in and shaped your body beautifully.

You love your body, you might get a little self conscious about it from time to time but what girl doesn’t? You learned pretty early on you might not be everyone type but you might be someone’s type and that was enough to give you confidence about your plump figure.

Now how your luck has it, you actually know Hank’s son Justin and adopted daughter Erin Lindsay though you didn’t know it at the time. You went to school with them, Erin is a little older than you but Justin is the same age as you.

Now back to your father’s best friend. After your first meeting, you started to hold a little grudge against him.

But it seems like luck isn’t on your side when you keep crossing paths with him once or twice. More since you became close friends with Justin and Erin. Though you you try your best to never interacted with him. Yeah, you might’ve been a little brat about that.

Once Erin graduated, she went straight to the Police Academy, wanting to follow Hank’s footsteps. That left you spending most of your time with Justin. Who would’ve thought you spending so much time together would’ve led you to lose your virginity to Justin Voight.

But sadly it wasn’t mind blowing like you had thought. Your girl friends always talked about how their first time was magical, even went into to much details. Now that you think about it, maybe it was all bullshit to make themselves look better in front of your friend group.

Though you can’t put the full blame on Justin, he has a decent size penis and tried to make you feel good, even tried to put your pleasure over his own. It wasn’t bad but it wasn’t good either. After that, you two decided to just stay friends and act like it never happened, which you were glad it didn’t mess up your friendship.

There’s also one big thing you learned about yourself pretty early on… you liked men. Older men. Old enough to be your father.

You always knew you liked older men but being under aged is what stopped you most of the time. You were flirted with by older men more than boys your age.

And you liked it. You liked it a lot.

You liked the attention they’ve given you, they were shameless and wasn’t afraid to get what they want. They didn’t care about how much you weigh or what size of clothes you are.

You didn’t know what to was about men that really turns you on. It could be the deep voice. Salt and pepper hair. The way men could get protective of you. Or maybe it could be they are experienced.

You need a man who can teach you a thing or two.

Now, you did an amazing job of avoiding Hank but that couldn’t be avoided when you were eighteen.

Justin💙: Party 2night?

You: Fuck Yes!!! You’re picking me up, right???

Justin💙: What about your parents?

You: Told them I’m going over to your place. Besides they won’t even notice. Mom is out with Lexi and Dad is most likely drinking and watching TV

Justin💙: You sure?

You: It’s the only way I’m going

You: What should I wear?

Justin💙: Something Sexy🥴🤤

You: I’m serious Justin😂

Justin💙: What are my options then?

You:

Justin💙: Fuck🫠😩

Justin💙: The red one. Definitely the red one

Justin💙: And wear those heels that makes your legs look so sexy🥴

You:😘

With a smile, you toss your phone to your bed and make your way to your bathroom to take a quick shower.

Today is supposed to be the best day. You’ll graduate the end the week. Which means you’re done with the people you could care less from High School completely.

Tonight you’re going to party. One of your classmates is having at party at his place while his parents are away for their anniversary.

Getting out the bathroom in only a robe and a towel over your head. You sit down in front of your vanity and do your makeup as natural as you can, you’ll be sweating and drinking, you need your makeup to last all night and not look cakey.

You look at the time and quickly put on a pair of biker shorts and a zip up hoodie. Grabbing your backpack, you place your dress, heels, and purse inside, along with your perfume and extra makeup to finish yourself up.

Justin will be coming by to pick you up in his car. Everything was set and making it home from school the excitement made you zone out.

Your phone flashes signaling you Justin has texted you.

Justin💙: I’m outside

Throwing your bag over your shoulder, you race down the stairs.

“Where are you going?” Your dad stops you before you could reach the door. He is sitting on the couch with his feet prompt up on the coffee table with a beer in hand, watching TV.

“Over to Justin’s. I told you already.”

“He’s picking you up?”

“Yes.”

“Just the two of you? Alone?”

“Dad.” you groan, “I’m eighteen, you don’t have to worry about me anymore.”

“That may be true.” you watch as he gets up from the couch with a grunt and stands in front of you, “but you’ll always be my baby girl. No matter what.” He smiles sweetly at you.

You give him a sincere smile. Even though your relationship has been somewhat strained, moments like these is what you cherish the most.

“I love you. C’mere. ” he pull you in for a bear hug.

“I love you too, dad.” you smile into his chest. Alvin presses a kiss on your head then leans his head back to look at you.

“What?” You question. He tilts his head with furrowed brows.

“Are you wearing makeup?”

“Dad!” You whine as you cover your face to hide how embarrassed you are.

Your phone rings once more, another message from Justin telling you to hurry your ass up.

“I gotta go. Justin is waiting for me.”

“He’s outside?”

“Mhmm.” you hum, looking down at your phone messaging Justin back. Your dad nudges you to the door.

“Bye dad.” you peck his cheek.

“Bye baby.”

“Hey, Justin!” Your dad waves once he opens the door allowing you to leave.

“Hey, Mr. Olinsky!” Justin waves back through the open window of the car.

“Better take care of her!”

“Oh I will. Don’t you worry!” Justin winks at you.

“Oh my god.” you roll your eyes at Justin, waving bye at your dad, you get in the back of Justin car.

“Why you sitting in the back?” Justin looks at you through the rear view mirror.

“Hey! Eyes on the road, pretty boy.” you reach from the back seat and hit the back of Justin’s head “I’m changing.”

“Why don’t you wear the dress under your clothes like any normal girl”

“Cause I’m not normal, you should know that by now.”

You unzip the thin jacket you have on and pull it down your shoulders. You’re wearing an adhesive bra, to hold up your heavy breast while wearing the dress that reveals your shoulders.

“Damn.”

“Fucker!” you hiss. Zipping open your backpack, you grab your dress, putting the sleeves of your dress on first, “I said no peaking.”

Justin lets out a low chuckle, keeping his eyes on the road once more.

Placing the dress over your head, you tug it down to your waist. You pull down your shorts and throw them in your backpack, then tug down the rest of your dress down to your mid thigh. Lastly the best for last, you strap on your heels.

“What did you tell your dad, when you left?” You ask to break the silence.

“Nothing. He’s working late. He doesn’t know I’m gone.”

“My, my, what a naughty boy you are, Justin. I might have to punish you.” you lean forward against the center console to look at the side profile of Justin.

“Shut up.” he laughs.

“You know… I might not like your dad but I can’t deny that he’s hot.” you tease.

“Of course you would say that.” Justin face scrunches up in disgust making you laugh, “I forgot how you prefer older men.”

“Yep! And it’s thanks to you.”

“Hey! I wasn’t that bad!”

“You weren’t good either.”

“You’re such a fucking bitch.” Justin shakes his head with a laugh.

“Yeah but you still love me though.” you smile smugly at him.

“Unfortunately.” you slap his shoulder making him recoil away from you with a smile.

Justin parks the car a little further than the house since the road was already cut off from how many cars were parked. ‘Rack City’ by Tyga burst through the loudspeakers, you could feel the vibration in your entire body.

Justin being the gentleman that he is with you, opens the door for you. He helps you of the car and steady you in your heels. He tugs down the back of your dress as he closes the door. You thanked him.

Justin places his hand on your lower back and guides you to the house full of people.

“Woo!!! Senior graduates!!!” You hear someone cheers running into the house.

“Woo!!!” Justin mimics next to you, he wraps his arm around your shoulder pulling close to his side.

Entering the house, the place is decorated in the school colors of blue and black streamers, paper graduation caps hanging from the end of a stream decorates in various places in the ceiling, different color lights shine brightly in different rooms of the house. The party is awesome.

“Yo, Justin! Glad you could make it bro!” Mickey steps in front of the both of you, he hands Justin a drink.

“Wouldn’t miss it.” Justin chugs down whatever alcohol was in the cup like it was nothing.

“N/n you look scrumptious as ever.” Mickey smirks at you.

“Bite me.” you roll your eyes, showing your disinterest at his attempt of flirting.

“I will if-“

“Hey what did I say?” Justin points a threatening finger against Mickey’s chest.

“Sorry.” Mickey raises his hands up, palms out.

Yeah, Justin is over protective of you, that’s much is clear. He’s basically one of the reasons why no one never really picked on you. They were afraid of Justin, he has just as much of a reputation as his father.

The last time a guy tried to pick on you ended up with a concussion and Justin suspended.

Not only is he over protective of people picking on you, he’s also over protective when it comes to guys flirting with you. He acts like an older brother wanting to protect his younger sister’s innocence, which is kinda weird to you since he was the one that took your virginity.

“Y/n!!!” You hear someone suddenly screech and jumps on you wrapping their arms around you.

“Bitch!” You groan at the added weight. You thank the lord for Justin holding you up if not you would’ve fell and everyone would’ve gotten an eyeful.

Recognizing the blue hair, you instantly knew it was Gwen.

Gwen pulls herself away from you, her hands on your shoulder and her eyes gaze up and down at your figure with a smirk.

“You look hot, babe.”

“Thanks Gwen.” you laugh at her bluntness.

“C’mon the others are waiting for you.” she grabs your wrist to tug you along with her.

“Hey!” Justin shouts offensively, throwing his arms up.

“Relax, pretty boy. We’ll be by the pool so you know where she’s at. Geez he acts like he’s your boyfriend or something.” Gwen rolls her eyes.

You smile sheepishly at Justin who doesn’t stop glaring at Gwen. You let Gwen take you to the back of the house where the pool is.

There you meet up with Daniel, Jacky, Sean, and Kate.

“Y/n Olinsky at a house party. Never thought I’ll see the day. I didn’t take you the type to be into this kind of thing. I thought clubs will be more your thing.” Daniel grins.

“Hey if theres alcohol involved I’m coming.”

“Speaking of coming. Here.” Kate hands you a red cup, “its squirt with tequila.”

“You’re the best.” you take the drink and chug it down, wincing a little at the after taste of the tequila but that’s to the soda it keeps it at bay.

Two hours into the party, you’ve danced with your friends, watched the guys play beer pong, and the people who are at the pool.

You, Jacky, and Gwen decided to take a break from the party and sit down on the steps of the porch to get some air that doesn’t smell like sweat and alcohol.

“What you planning on doing after high school?” Ask Jacky before she sips the rest of her alcohol.

“I don’t know about y’all but I’m ain’t going to college. I just want to travel around the world with my cat. I could do it, you know. I could just get a random job, buy a bus, buy the supplies, and just remodel it. I could just work online.”

“That’s sounds badass.” you respond to Gwen.

“What about you?” Gwen turns the question to you. You shrug.

“I got accepted in NYU Groosman School of Medicine.” you mutter. You hear the two girls squeal making you wince.

“Dude isn’t that your dream school?”

“It is.”

“Then why does it sound like you aren’t excited about it?”

“Maybe because I don’t want to go to the medical field. The whole reason I even applied was because I wanted to get out of here and be on my own. My mom wanted me go to a college close by but I want to be independent and be on my own.” you sigh.

You’ve been understandably stressed out. You wanted to get out of your parents house and be independent but you also don’t want to be away from home. You don’t want to leave Lexi alone with your overbearing mom, you know your dad would be there but he’s too busy with work to be at home most of the time.

You didn’t think you’ll be accepted to NYU. It has a reputation of being one of the hardest colleges to be accepted in. The only reason you applied is because you were good in Biology, Chemistry, Physics, and Calculus. Your teachers always encouraged you in the medical field so that’s what you did but now you’re starting to regret your decision.

“You know what you need?” Gwen looks directly at you.

“What’s that?” You answered, taking a sip from the cup in your hand.

“To get laid.”

The way that you choked on your drink was undignified and most unlady-like.

You glare at Jacky and at Gwen who was smirking. Jacky patted your back, sympathetically.

Surprisingly, the thumping music vibrated through your body, calming your mind. The alcohol also helped!

“First of all,” you clear your throat, “I get laid plenty, thank you very much. Second, how did we go from talking about our future to getting me laid?”

“Your still fucking that fire fighter?” Question Jacky

“Oh yeah.”

“I wonder what your dad would say if he ever finds out.” teases Gwen with a knowing smirk

“He will say nothing cause it’s none of his business.” you roll your eyes.

“Not if he finds out which one it is.” Jacky grins down at her cup.

“Maybe.” you shrug

“Dude, what is it with cops and firefighters having a war against each other?”

“Right? What’s up with that?”

“Who knows.” you shrug, “i think-“

“Shh!” Gwen shushes you, “ya hear that?”

Just as when Gwen says that, you hear the distance sound of police sirens. Leaning forward, in the distance you see the red and blue flashing lights.

“COPS!!!”

Just like that everything runs into chaos. Everyone runs around trying to get out of the house and make a run for it.

Everyone is drunk as fuck to even run straight. So were you but you were sober enough to get up and run in the house to look for Justin.

“Justin!” You shout over the crowd of people. You stand on your tippy toes to look over the crowd but couldn’t find him.

"Y/n, what are you doing?” Mickey suddenly appears in front of you, his eyes wide. He quickly takes your hand. "We gotta go."

“But Justin-“

“He’ll be fine. C’mon there’s no time.” you nod, letting him pull you out of the house.

The house is still half empty of drunk teenagers as the cops surrounds the house, but that doesn’t stop Mickey from making a run for it with you behind him.

“Freeze! Stop where you are!”

“Shit!” Mickey curses.

“Hey Cal, there’s alcohol surrounding the place. These kids been drinking.”

Of course someone called the cops on the party, what a cliche.

“Arms in the air and turn around. Slowly.”

Doing as your told. Two cops you don’t recognize, walks towards the two of you.

One reached for the cuffs at his belt, quickly grabbing you by the elbow and cuffs your wrist in front of you. He grabs you by your elbow leading you to a police car.

“Hey!” You whine from the tight grip of his hand on you.

“Keep moving.”

“Calm it, I’m in heels, asshole.” you snap at him.

Opening the door, the cop pushes your head down as you get in, the other cop pushes Mickey in next to you.

“Fuck. My dad is going to kill me.” you quietly groan, throwing your head back. You look out the window seeing some other kids being dragged into different cop cars.

The drive to the police station was a blur. The same cop drags you out of the car with Mickey behind you.

Seeing the familiar silver haired woman with her normal stern face in the front desk, you keep your head down so she won’t recognize you.

“You have to be so rough?!” You glare at the cop as he pushes you down on a chair and cuffs your left hand on the armrest, “is that really necessary?”

The cop ignores you, he walks away with your confiscated purse in his hand.

“Hey asshole, watch it!” you turn your toward the noise to see Mickey being dragged, the cop shoves him down in the chair next to you.

“Both of you wait here till we get back.”

“Like we have much of a choice.” you bite back. The cop gives you a look before leaving.

“Fuck man.” Mickey groans next to you.

“Tell me about it. I had to get arrested wearing this.” you point at your red dress. Compared to the plain looking police station, you stand out like a sore thumb.

“Could be worse.” Mickey smirks down at you.

“Oh yeah? Like what?”

“You could look like him.” Mickey points at what looks like a man in women’s clothing. Is that a prostitute?

“Oh my god, Mickey! Don’t point!” you scold him and pinch his side with your hand that isn’t restraint.

“Ow okay!” he laughs as he tries to get away from you.

“Hank, you’re still here?” You overhear Trudy, you lean over slightly to see none other than Hank.

“Fuck.” you groan.

“I thought you left with the others.”

“Nah. I needed to get some paper work done first.”

“You know him?” Mickey looks between you and Hank.

“Yeah that’s Justin’s dad also my dad’s best friend. Quick make yourself big so he won’t see me.”

“Babe,” Mickey deadpans at you, “your dress is a far cry compared to everything here. He’ll notice you even if I try to cover you.”

“Shut up and do as your told.” you shove him.

“Hey!”

“Alright.” the police officer from before walks up to the two of you. “I’ll need your name”

“Y/n.” he writes it down.

“Last name?”

You hesitate, “Olinsky.” you mumble.

The police officer pauses, he gazes down at you before letting out a hearty laugh, “Olinsky? You’re Alvin’s daughter?” You wince at how loud he’s being, “No fucking way.”

Well so much for being discreet. If Hank didn’t know you were here now he does.

You shift in your seat uncomfortably, your eyes gaze around the room before hiding your face behind you hand. Trying to make yourself small as possible.

“Y/n?” You hear the all familiar gravelled husky voice of Hank. You look up to see Hank gaze on you with a raised brow. You two make eye contact for a split second, before you break it.

“You got to be fucking kidding me.” you mumble, sliding down your chair slightly and cover your eyes with your hand.

You want the floor to swallow you whole.

“What’s going on here?” Hank question the officer.

“Someone called about a house party. These kids been drinking.” You roll your eyes at the officers matter of fact tone.

“Is that right?” Hank gaze goes back to you, his expression hard to read, making you feel uneasy.

God kill me now. Please.

“Apparently this one right here is Al’s daughter.”

“I’ll take her off your hands and take it from here.

Mickey sits quietly next to you with raised brow, astonished. He looks at you and mouths ‘what the fuck’.

“Uhh Sarge, I don’t think-“ one hard look from Hank made him reconsider. “Okay. No problem.”

“Uncuff her.”

“Sure. Okay.”

You watch silently as the officer stumbles a little with the keys and takes off your handcuff. You sigh as you rub your wrist in relief from its tight bounds.

“Let’s go.” Hank gestures for you to get up with his fingers.

“Did you have anything with you before you got arrested?”

“Yeah my purse. It has my phone and wallet in it.”

Hank turns to the police officer.

“Where’s her purse?”

“It’s confiscated in a storage location.”

“Get someone to bring me her belongings and her arrest charges. I’ll be in my office.”

“Yes Sarge.”

He grabs you by the elbow, more gently than the cop did and . You both barely made it half way to wherever he planned on taking you when you start to protest.

“Hey! Wait a second! I’m not going anywhere with you.” you yank your arm out of his grip.

You watch the way Hank clenches his jaw as he looks at you, losing his patience with your bratty attitude, but you don’t shy away from his stare.

“For once, be a good girl and do what I say. Al might tolerate your attitude but I surely won’t.” Hank retorts, his eyes never leaving yours, a shiver going down your spine at his dark tone.

“Now move it, princess.” you roll your eyes at the pet name and begrudgingly let Hank lead you with a hand on the small of your back.

Hank leads you up the stairs to the bullpen and into his office. Opening the door, he allows you to enter first before he does and closes the door behind him.

“Sit down.” At his sharp tone, you oblige instantly with no arguement from you.

Besides your dad, Hank could be scary at times but you do have a tendency of pushing a little too far.

Hank not once takes his eyes off you, he stands in front of his desk. Hank leans back against it with arms cross against his chest.

“Does Al know where you are?”

“What do you think?”

“What the hell were you thinking?”

“Excuse me?”

“You could’ve gotten yourself arrested. You going to graduate on Friday and this is how act? You could’ve ruin your chances for college education.”

“Why does it matter to you?”

“Al told me you got accepted into NYU. You really want to ruin that by getting arrested for underage drinking?”

“Who are you to be getting after me? You’re not my dad.”

“No I’m not. But I am someone who cares about you. I know you don’t like me, Y/n. You made that perfectly clear. But your Al’s daughter and my son’s friend. I protect my own and that includes you!”

You and Hank don’t break eye contact. Both waiting for the other to break first.

“Sargent.?” someone knocks on the door before opening it and entering.

“Yeah?” Hank switches his gaze away from you to the officer who just entered.

“Here’s her belonging and her case file you asked for.” the officer hands hank a yellow folder and your purse.

“Is this all?”

“Yes sir.”

“Thanks.” the officer nods and leaves, closing the door once again.

Hank walks around his desk looking through the file before slamming it shut and throw it the trash making your eyes widen.

Did he really just throw away your arrest charges down the trash?

Hank drops down into his chair behind his desk, not taking his eyes off you. Almost challenging you to say something.

“Why?” Is you could ask.

“Consider this me offering you a truce.”

“Truce? For what?”

“I want us to get along. And I’ll start by doing this.”

You didn’t know what to say. You didn’t think he would basically erase your arrest charges. If anything you thought he would use this to blackmail you or something.

“Are you going to tell my dad?”

He leans back in his chair, fingers interlacing across his mid-section as he considers you for a few moments before replying.

“No.”

“Why not?”

“What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”

Wow. You didn’t expect that. Hank just keeps surprising more and more. You assumed he would call your dad the second he saw you handcuffed in the police station.

“How much did you drink?”

“What?”

“You’ve been drinking haven’t you?”

“Yes.”

“How much?”

“If you’re asking if I’m drunk. No I’m not. I only drank two or three cups but they weren’t strong. I was tipsy when the cops came. I got sober pretty fast when an officer roughly pushed me in the police car.”

“Who?”

“Who what?”

“The officer. Who was the officer that arrested you?”

“I don’t know. He had a pornstache that you see only in bad pornos.” you shrug.

Hank smirks amused at your answer.

“You still feel a little tipsy?”

“A little.”

“Okay.” suddenly Hank stands up from his chair and walks around his desk, grabbing your purse along the way and hands it to you, “let’s go.”

“Wait what?” You were taken back. You stumble over yourself trying to stand up.

“Where we going?”

“To sober you up.”

“I said I was a little tipsy.”

“I don’t care. Let’s go.” once again Hank places his hand in the small of your back to lead you out of his office. He turns off the light and closes the door, locking it.

You walk close behind him down the stairs. Hank stands on your right side, guiding you to the front entrance.

“Heading out for the night, Trudy.”

“Alright. See ya in the morning.”

Stepping outside, he leads you to his SUV. Walking to the passanger side, Hank opens the door and helps you before closing the door behind you once you sat down comfortably.

You reach for the seat belt buckling yourself up, you sit silently watching out the window with your purse on your lap.

The driver side door opens and Hank gets in. He takes a deep breath before shoving the keys in the keyhole and turn on the SUV.

The entire drive was in complete silence. You start to feel a little awkward being in close proximity with Hank. You never been alone with him before.

“Where we going?”

“There’s a diner close by that’s open 24/7.”

“Why we going there?”

“You need something in your stomach other than whatever alcohol you were drinking.”

“Why do you care so much?”

“I told you, I protect my own and that includes you”

For the rest of the ride you kept your mouth shut. Arriving the diner, Hank gets out first, walking around the front of the SUV and opens the door, holding his hand out to help you down.

Such a gentlemen. Now you know where Justin gets it from.

Once the both of you enter the diner, you both get seated in a booth. Hank sitting across from you.

Looking around the place, it’s practically empty, reminding how late it must be. You have yet to check the time.

A woman in her late 30s maybe mid 40s walks towards your table, “Hello, my name is Rachel and I’ll be you waitress” she place down two menus infront of you and Hank.

“Before we start, will the check be separate or together?”

“It’ll be sep-“

“Together.” Hank cuts you off. Your brows raised as you look at him.

Not only did this man saved you from getting arrested, he’s also buying you food.

“Okay, want to start off with drinks?”

“You have sweet tea?”

“Mhmm, we do”

“I’ll take that”

“I’ll get the same thing.”

“Alright. You two ready to order or do you want time to look at the menu.”

“We’ll take the cheeseburger with everything on both and fries.” Hank tells the waitress. She lets out a soft okay, writing it down. She grabs the two menus before leaving, letting you and Hank be alone once more.

“You’re buying me food too?”

“I’m a gentleman.” he retorts making you shake your head with a laugh.

“Well now I know where Justin gets it from.” you grin at him, you place your elbow on the table with your on the palm of your hand.

“Speaking of Justin, was he at the house party with you? You two always been thick as thieves for as long as I can remember.”

“Will he get in trouble if I say he was?”

“Only for leaving you alone to get arrested.”

“He didn’t leave me alone.” you defend Justin, “we were separated with our different group of friends when the cops showed up. I was looking for him but Mickey stopped me and tried to get us out of the house but the cops caught us.”

“The boy that was sitting next to you at the station?”

“Yeah.”

“Here’s your drinks,” the waitress comes back with two cups of sweet tea, “and your burger and fries.” she places down two plates in front of you and Hank, “enjoy.” she leaves.

“My dad told you about me going to NYU?” You mention, stuffing a couple of fries in your mouth, remembering Hank mentioning it back at the station.

“He did. He’s really proud of you. Had the biggest smile on his face when he told me.”

You couldn’t help but smile at that. You knew how excited your dad was about you being accepted to one of the best colleges, you also knew how he didn’t like how you would be moving far away from home but he won’t voice it. He knows this could be big for you.

Your mom is whole another story. She’s been trying to change your mind from going since you gotten the letter.

“Same can’t be said about my mother.” you mutter, taking a sip from your cup.

“Yeah Alvin told me about that too.” Hank sighs, shifting in his seat.

“She’s unbearable. Did my dad tell you she blames him for me leaving?”

“She what?” His eyes widen, telling you your dad hasn’t said a word about it.

“Yep. This whole time I thought my dad was the problem but it turns out it’s my mom. Or both.” you shrug

“Is that why you sneaked out to go to a party?”

“Technically… I didn’t sneak out. My dad saw me leave… but he was drinking when I left but he wasn’t drunk.” you tried to plead your case.

“Did you tell him you were going to a party?”

“No.” you play with your straw.

“Did he see you leave in that?” he points at your dress.

“No.” you mutter in between sips.

“Then you were sneaking out. Did Justin park at the end of the street to pick you up?”

“That’s such a fucking cliche,” you laugh, “he parked in front of my house. My dad saw him and even said hi.”

You smile when Hank lets out laugh and shakes his head at you.

“Why are you being nice to me? I’ve been nothing but a bitch to you since the moment we met.” you start to feel guilty.

Even when you started to hang out with Justin and Erin more, you would sometimes go over to their house. Hank for the most part would stay out of the way but he’s been nothing but kind and caring to you when you stayed over. Now you feel like a complete bitch.

You really let your mother’s words brainwash you into thinking Hank is the devil or something. But he’s far from it. At least with you.

You’re not naive, you know what Hank does in the dark where no one sees, but that’s doesn’t stop him from being gentle and caring to the people he holds dear to him.

You’re surprised one of them is you.

“I know your mom don’t like me. Al mentioned once or twice she argues a lot about me involving him in certain situations. I’m not denying they aren’t true but-“

“It’s okay.” you cut him off, “You don’t have to explain yourself to me. I’m not a kid anymore, I know what’s goes on around me. I know you and my dad -maybe your entire squad- do behind the scene. I know you’ve killed people. it doesn’t scare me.”

“It should, sweetheart.”

“But it doesn’t. You only do it cause you care. You don’t hurt innocent people. You just take justice in your own hands. You just do what others aren’t willing to do. I could respect that.”

Hank hums, considering you for moment before speaking.

“You’re something else, you know that.” he grins making you smile.

Finishing off your meals, Hank pays for both your meals. Once again being a gentleman, he walks you to the passenger side and opens the door for you to get in.

Hank slows down and parks in front of your house. You look out the window to see all the lights in the house are off, telling you everyone should be asleep by now. Giving you the chance to sneak in without being seen.

“Listen,” hearing Hank’s voice, your turn your to look at him, “I know you’re scared about moving away from home but do me a favor.”

“What kind of favor?” You squint your eyes at him.

“Take care yourself in New York.” he says softly and he genuinely means it by the way he looks at you.

“I will.” you gently smile at him. Hank shifts in his seat and opens the center console, grabbing a card handing it to you.

“Here.”

“What is it?”

“My business card. It has my office and my personal number. Don’t be afraid to call me if you need anything.”

“Thank you, Hank.”

“Go inside. You should give Justin a call to let him know you’re alright. He’s probably worried about you.”

“I will.” You smile before leaning over and giving him a small kiss on the cheek, “Goodnight, Hank.”

“Goodnight, sweetheart. Take care.” You nod before getting out of his SUV. Hank softly smiles as he watches you round the SUV.

“Hey!” Hank calls for you, making you turn around. “don’t tell your dad you were with me.”

“It’ll be our little secret.” you wink. Hank shakes his head amusingly. He waits a little longer till you enter the house. The second the front door closes, he drives off.

(This took so long to write but I’m happy how it turned out. Please don’t be shy to let me know what you think. I love reading your comments.

Can anyone guess who the fire fighter reader is sleeping with? Anyone who guesses right gets a cookie🍪)

[gatitties]

The truth

—Yandere!Bonten x motherly!reader (platonic)

—Summary: an accident makes you more aware of reality even though you already knew it, but what can someone like you do?

—Warnings: blood, kidnapping, obsession, toxic behaviors, harassment

I never thought this would go so far as to have five parts but... here we are! 🫣 (maybe this part is a bit long, srry)

@boycigs there you go!! 🫶🏻

Part one / Part two / Part three / Part four

You fumbled with the wall for the light switch, your tired eyes playing with you and making you almost trip over a blanket that had been thrown on the floor.

You yawned stretching your back, you had been working on some files that Kokonoi asked you to correct, you fell asleep without dinner and your stomach decided to wake you up at this time of night.

Luckily you had some leftovers from today's lunch, everyone had come to eat despite it being your 'day off', but since they had been busy with work more than usual lately, they couldn't spend as much time with you as they would like, although that didn't stop them from hiding cameras in your apartment to check that everything was okay from time to time.

A knock at the door made you frown, remembering the first time you met Sanzu. You walked slowly, expecting to run into him, or even one of the Haitani brothers who ran brothels near the area, it wouldn't be the first time they've come home drunk after a good night.

When you opened it, confusion flooded your face, there was no one there, not a note, nothing, you thought that maybe you were still too sleepy and you had hallucinated, or maybe it was some late-night teenager making a joke. You shrugged shutting to go back to your dinner, but before you knew it or could make a move something hit you in the back of the neck, knocking you unconscious, the last thing you saw was a few blurry faces, but none you knew in the slightest.

Panic, panic was the first thing Mochizuki experienced when he saw the recordings from the cameras installed in your house. He had to do a checkup the next morning and just seeing how careless they had been to let that trash kidnap you made his thoughts turn to disgust and guilt.

Not even five minutes after seeing that, all the executives were gathered in their meeting room, no matter where they were, they all got there instantly upon answering Mochi's call.

"And if I pause right here..." Mochi stopped the video just as two men lifted your unconscious body "this guy here, on his neck, his tattoo is from another band."

"Those bastards have been giving us so much trouble lately, I'm looking forward to seeing blood drain from their brains."

Sanzu slammed both hands on the table, completely irritated and concerned for your well-being, he was controlling his urge to go looking for you only because Mikey had remained silent with a blank stare throughout the entire meeting.

The Haitani brothers were already warming up to fight, Takeomi was mobilizing some men to search your apartment for clues while Koko and Kakucho were trying to find where your chip signal was. Yes, although unknown to you, they decided to insert a tracking chip into you a while ago just to know where you were when they couldn't be around.

The signal was bad, either because you were too far away from their location or because you were somewhere underground, which didn't help much. They were all probably on the verge of hysteria, the search wasn't going fast enough as they'd like and it only made their mood worse.

It took at least five days for them to come up with any solid leads to your whereabouts, the worst five days of their existence, the poor people or employees who will come across any of them probably aren't alive anymore. Mikey locked himself in and refused to come out unless they heard from you, he barely ate and his sleep schedule got even worse.

"Are you sure it's there?"

"Yes, several of our men have seen these guys with the same tattoo come and go, it doesn't appear to be their central base but it's hidden enough to carry out kidnappings."

Takeomi pointed to a warehouse on the outskirts of the city, everyone mobilized to go there immediately, even Mikey and Kokonoi, who didn't usually get their hands dirty with this kind of work, decided to go.

As for you... it was confusing the first day you woke up, the feeling of a gun pointed at your head became familiar as did the ropes on your wrists and ankles. Your reaction upon seeing the criminals was to release an inaudible sigh, without fear or surprise, your state was neutral.

You knew it, you knew that sooner or later this was going to happen, as much as your guys will try to hide you from problems with other mafias, there are always some leaks, and playing with loved ones from enemy gangs is the easiest card to play to threaten. Although in this case they didn't even have time to issue a threat to Bonten when they had already been threatened by your kidnapping.

The following days were threats to your people to try to get information that could put Bonten in trouble, as well as planning to move to another of their hideouts, however you were unaware of most of the things that Bonten did, although you were their secretary, you were only in charge of planning schedules and correcting some superficial reports from Kokonoi, you were not much help to these scoundrels.

"Damn! I don't understand how they could have protected you so much if you're just a useless old woman, you're useless! Why the hell do those guys hold you in such high esteem...?"

In the outburst of anger as he took it out on you, the sound of his hand slamming into your cheek sounded as the door above fell off its hinges.

"Boss, we have a prob-!"

The eye of the man who was coming down the stairs was blown out thanks to a bullet, landing right between your feet, you closed your eyes and, no matter if you don't believe in any god or anything, you prayed, not for you, but for what all these people did not suffer such a painful death.

You knew what Bonten men were capable of, at first you thought you were exaggerating, but that was the truth and at times, it terrified you. You were terrified to think of all the lives that left this world just because of you, your boys were more than gangsters, more than just criminals, they were monsters looking for any excuse to kill, and you were that excuse.

You knew that there was nothing in this world that would make you reverse time to the point of not having helped that drunk guy at the door of your house, you knew that nothing would make all those men leave your side because of showing your kindness, you knew that no kind of therapy could help such rotten minds at this point, so you could only swallow, as scared as you were, as much as your legs trembled, you had chosen this path yourself and you had to accept it.

"Mom..."

Your breath quickened slightly as you felt Sanzu's cold hand resting on your cheek, you slowly opened your eyes to see pure relief reflected in his, ignoring the bloodstains on his clothes and face, and even ignoring the blood he was leaving on your face, you smiled at him.

"I'm fine guys, I'm… fine."

You had to swallow and avoid getting dizzy from the smell of oxide in the place, your memories are blurry when you try to remember when you left there, you remember seeing many practically mutilated bodies, a river of blood and many arms holding your body as if you were going to disintegrate at that precise moment.

After you were rescued, you spent at least two days in a hospital at Kokonoi's request to see that you didn't have any injuries, everyone turned to you with questions about how you were doing, especially mentally.

It became suffocating, the amount of attention you received after that event, made you understand that, from now on, you could not have a single moment for yourself, no matter the job, the time or the place, you will always have one of them on top of you to keep an eye on you.

It doesn't matter if you complain, the truth, which you had to accept once again, is that nothing but death could separate you from these men, because they were not willing to let you go, ever. But the worst of all is that you accepted it, you accepted your fate, a fate that was sealed a long time ago, you accepted that you lived with monsters, that you helped and treated horrible people like completely sane people, but, an ordinary person like you, no could change anything.

"How long until the cake is ready?"

"Don't be impatient Rin, it's only been in the oven for five minutes."

"That's already a long time..."

"Shut up, you're always so impatient!"

"Are you looking for a fight!?"

"Kakucho, could you...?"

A nod from him made you sigh in relief, breaking up the Haitani brothers' fight as you sat at the table with the others who were talking about random topics. You stared into your teacup, your blank stare imagining imaginary scenes of another lifestyle in the steaming liquid.

"Are you ok? You seem distracted."

You looked at Kokonoi, keeping your gaze off without focusing on his face, you nodded with a slight smile when you saw that everyone had shut up to look at you.

"Yeah, I just didn't sleep well today."

"We'll buy a new bed then."

"I did not mean that..."

And like many things in your current life, your opinion was thrown away just to bring you more 'comfort'. You had no power and that was the absolute truth, nothing could change at this point.

[wonryllis]

HAPPY FOR A WHILE ☆ ( sunghoon )

` —SOMETIMES, love will leave you even when it’s right.

preview. eversince the start, you had noticed something off. but you were far too into him to scrutinize things. as a result it came back to you when you were way in deep and thought everything was fine. (this is a repost!)

meet the cast. park sunghoon with gn!reader LIBRARY?

genre. angst, nonidol!au, side character death mentioned, sort of rebound!reader, no physical cheating, it's good i promise.

word count. around 1400 listen to. smile again by blackbear. 

827 days.

that’s how much time you’ve been in a relationship with sunghoon. a simple two expanding to so many days and so many more moments. you were never the one to keep a track, just too forgetful to continue the numbers, yet this time something is different, so different that it feels like another version of a first love.

3017 days; that’s sunghoon’s count.

at first you had assumed that he had simply made a mistake, when you saw the figure showing up on the lockscreen of his red iPhone. for a long time thinking that perhaps the count started from when he had known you, remembering the time he told you he knew you way before you got to know him.

but as time passed, all the pieces connected and everything made sense. how the first thing he wakes up in the morning and does is check for messages, fingers hovering over a certain contact you only caught a blurry glimpse of a few times. but never opening it as if waiting for a notification- an excuse. how on specific dates he disappears for the entire day only to come back home around midnight, always dressed in that blue shirt he never lets you touch, the cloth tucked away in the deepest corner of his closet. how sometimes he pauses for a minute before calling out to you, as if trying to find the right name or realizing you are the wrong person for the name at the tip of his tongue.

sometimes he would buy the wrong things, like a different ice cream flavor, different color of scarf, different shoe size, different boba flavor or coffee order, tickets for a different genre of movie or band concerts, forgetting your favorite or preferred ones; turns out it isn’t you who’s on his mind when he’s out in the store or the line. it hurt you everytime it happened but when he apologized, you couldn’t find it in you to question why and just forgave him.

you met him two and a half years ago, when he was in his most vulnerable phase. you had gotten to know from his friends about his break up, that he had recently been single again. the same friends who told you a few months ago that it wasn’t exactly a break up, his girlfriend died in a plane crash six months before you met him.

maybe that was what the count is for. he’s waiting for her, even when he knows she’s gone.

they say first love is a memory of a lifetime.

one might not still have romantic feelings for their first but they always remember, the person, the moments, the feelings of the past. maybe, just maybe if she was his first love it would have hurt a little less. but she wasn’t.

they had been dating for five years, had a lot of things they wanted to do together, a future they looked forward to with the other. and most of all, sunghoon was planning to propose when she came back from the work trip; but she never did.

eversince you often wondered why he agreed to be with you if he wasn’t over her yet. it had just been about a year after her death that you had made a move on him, soon asking him out to be your boyfriend. no one told you why he broke up with his girlfriend not to mention she wasn’t even alive anymore, sunghoon himself never talked about his past or her. maybe it was the same old, “she would’ve wanted me to move on”, but this wasn’t moving on, this was pretending to be. it made you question whether all those loving things he did and still does with you, for you are genuine or not.

in all those movies you’ve seen and books you’ve read, where the character stays even though their partner is cheating physically or emotionally, you never understood why, why they never leave but perhaps now you do.

“do you love me?” you had once asked him when he was drunk, trusting the saying ‘a drunk mind speaks a sober heart’, holding his face in your hands, making him look you in the eyes so he knows it’s not her but you. “i really want to,” he had mumbled softly, a whisper of her name following after, so inaudible yet you still heard it; it was as if he felt guilty for trying to find new happiness. the words had broken your heart, but you wanted, still want to stay. for you it’s the attachment and the hope, and the love, how he treats you better than any of your exes though you’ve always been in healthy relationships.

and watching him wake up everyday, and then checking for a sign of her, you realize as long as he wanted, you would keep pretending along with him. because just like he’s stuck with a part of her, you’re stuck with a part of him. a part of him which maybe actually loves you, or at least shows that he does.

what they had he considered forever, knowing very well the forever would end someday but he didn’t know it would be that soon. and just like that you think you can go on like this forever, even if that forever were to end tomorrow.

today you had a date planned, a table reserved in your favorite restaurant where you’re currently seated after sunghoon left in a hurry. he had gotten a call an hour ago, which he had excused himself to attend. you had managed to catch a glimpse of the contact name, it was her mother, his ex’s mother, he still had her saved as mother-in-law. when he came back to the table, a look of apology and dismay on his face- you immediately knew he had to leave. but he couldn’t just leave you there so you did what you thought would be best, told him you can go back on your own anyways and that you still wanted to stay out for a while longer so he need not worry. he told you to text him when you reach home and that he’ll be back late before he was out the door and you watched as he got into his car and drove away.

you know the call had something to do with her, you knew it the moment you looked into his eyes when he came back to leave. you are no one to decide what he should do with things to related to his past yet the fact that he cared enough to ask you even if it wasn’t words and even if you knew he would have left anyways showed that maybe he is trying; trying to live in the present. maybe the clench in your heart made you conscious of how he must feel. of course the pain is different for you both but you want to understand.

later at night when you go back to your shared apartment, you find sunghoon passed out in the living room, a cardboard box beside the couch, containing things you assume belonged to her. sunghoon is sitting on the floor, his head resting on the coffee table ontop of a handmade photobook, pages covered with pictures of him and his ex. just beside it, is his phone screen showing her contact opened, where the last message he sent dates back to three years ago,“have a safe flight, i love you,” a little bubble showing unread below the text.

something he has never before said to you, only ever replying with a 'me too’, maybe someday you both will find a paradise where the past will be a happy memory or perhaps you’ll part ways. all you know that you were happy for awhile, the while before you knew of her. you’re still happy now, not all parts of you, but the part which has come to love him enough to disregard that he’s not wholly yours.

it feels bittersweet to love him, like a dust storm swallowing the sky yet the sky is still there in all glory. you’ll hold him for as long as you can, as long as he will want you to. maybe he'll learn to love you enough to let her go, or maybe you'd learn to love him enough to let him go.

taglist. ( open ) @kangseulgithegreat @s00buwu @luvyev @pockyyasii @nctislifue @ashtxrie @miniature-tragedy @jayujus @brachives @thoughtsmeander2tumblingblindly @eeunoia

[silencesscreams]

can i ask you a question?

james potter x f!reader (smut + muggle!au)

summary: ever since you met james potter in your sophomore year of college, you haven’t been able to deny the effect he had on you, as much as you hated it. he was a player, always got what he wanted and was just stupid, to say the least. sharing a friend group didn’t make it any better. sure, you both just scoffed at each other and would both agree that one another was insufferable. it seemed perfect when it started, thanks to that very drunken night, after a fight on the phone with your asshole boyfriend.

but what happens when you feel like the benefit part wasn’t enough for you?

warnings: getting cheated on and cheating (not on each other but with each other) bad morals, kissing, dom james, making out, degradation?, fingering, penetration, overstimulation, use of y/n once, unprotected (don’t even think of doing that irl i’ve got my eye on u)

“im serious! you have to break up with him, he’s an asshole” said lily through the speakers on your phone, you hated how she was always right.

“i know”, you look away from the screen, viewing your room, as lily kept on talking, you were able to see her facial expressions just because of the sound of her voice, even if you were looking away from the face time display on your phone.

“… and he’s not even pretty! he’s just a cheating piece of garbage” she finished, spitting out the offenses. you smile, even when he was that far away (a whole other continent) he would still fuck up brutally, over and over again. sure, lily didn’t know you were also a ‘cheating piece of garbage’, but your boyfriend did it first, or at least that was what you took comfort in.

“i get it, lil’s, thank you.” you smile, pausing your video.

‘hii, u up?’ is typed in very quickly and sent to a contact with the name of james potter. you went back to face time quickly, heartbeat quickening with the anxiety for a response, in a few seconds you saw the notification ‘be there in five, bringing chinese’ you smile at that, he knew about your obsession with left over asian food.

“gotta sleep, thank you for the talk though” you tell lily, very anxious to turn off the phone and turn on some silly playlist.

“no worries, see you at work monday?” she asked, like if you even had a choice about coming in, you nodded, turning the phone off. the next moments were excruciatingly painful, you hated those 10 minutes more than anything. it was a buildup of anxiety and being nervous if you were getting stood up, of course, that never even happened with james, but really, you weren’t friends like that. or maybe you were, you don’t really know. he was fun once you got to know him, and he did know a lot about you by now. but of course, the friends with benefits couldn’t work out any longer, it never did, did it? someone would always end up catching feelings. its not like its that big of a deal though, its just no one outsmarts it.

these thoughts did consume you until you heard the knock on your door, you had started to recognize his knocks a long time ago, slow one, three quick ones, two quick ones. it was fun now that you thought about it, you waited around 15 seconds at the door, you always did that, you were careful for him to never think you were desperate, being sure he’d tease you about it later if he ever did. and so you open the door, he smiles at you, entering and closing the door, as he’s leaving the food on the kitchen table he starts,

“i brought some-“ and you interrupt him with a kiss, you hate to admit it but you missed him.

“a bit eager, aren’t we?” he teases, pulling away to take off his jacket.

“shut up” you pull him back in, his hands on your waist as he tries to take his shoes off, almost tripping over them but still managing to kiss you while he’s at it. james quickly picked you up and you had your legs were wrapped around him, you could feel his already growing bulge as his hands went under your thighs, your oversized shirt hiking up, as you remembered you probably shouldn’t have opened the door in your underwear. he carries you to your room, the only lighting being your lamp on your desk, you were trying to finish an essay when you got your boyfriends call. you’re thrown onto your bed as he takes off his shirt, glasses foggy, he’s taking them off.

“tell me, were you missing me?” he grins, climbing onto bed, his knee between your legs.

“i hate you” you roll your eyes, and suddenly he was closer than you thought, you tilt your head up, trying to dom him out, at least this one time. he looks smug, and you want o hit him harshly, but you also want him to pin you to your bed and- was he chuckling right now?

“i don’t hear you denying it though” he counters, your cheeks flushing.

that’s probably it for you, you lose. you lose to the conceited assumptions, to the tension, to the way his hair looks, to the darkness in his eyes, to the wetness he was causing between your legs and to the tension.

that was all it took for him to smash his lips against yours. its a kiss so rough, so brutal. that was something you didn’t expect from james potter.

he's pushing your hips harshly into the mattress beneath you, immediately pressing close to you, chests touching and his leg slipping deeper between your legs. your hand is on his neck and it threads into his hair as your teeth clash, both of your hearts thundering.

your noses hit each other; you hope he can feel the adrenaline through your lips. you can certainly feel his. his hand moves up so he's grabbing your thigh, pulling you closer to him. you pull away and immediately attach your lips to the column of his neck, not wanting to have to look at his face. one small groan he lets out causes you to smile against his skin, suddenly realizing that you have just as much of an effect on him as he does on you, even though you're the one who is under. you nip at the flesh on his neck, sucking onto it, making sure to mark.

he moans lightly at that and you feel yourself tremble as your stomach tingles. he tugs onto your hair with one hand, as you start to grind desperately against him. you feel the outline of him, semi hard and desire takes you over. his hand now on your ass, gripping it as you suck another bruise on his neck. he pulls away to look at you, his eyes darkening before kissing you again. your hands trail down his chest, towards his bulge, and as your fingertips graze it, his other hand grabs your wrists and holds them down above your head, only one hand holding them. he takes off your shirt and starts to take off his belt. he takes a minute just to look at you, lace underwear, you were waiting for him.

“what are you doing?” you ask, like you weren’t sure of it already.

“what does it look like i’m doing? im putting you in your place, now be a good girl, how about that?” he teases you, throwing the belt across the room.

“you’re an asshole.” are the only words you can say right now.

“don’t see you complaining right now” he muttered, nipping at your neck, as he left a trail of kisses and bites on your neckline and chest, you weren’t even wearing a bra. he pushes two thick digits into your heat without warning.

“shit!” you yelp, he finds your g-spot easily, nudging against it as he hooks his fingers up, teasing you, his voice sweet and clear when he says, "maybe you'd prefer your boyfriend to fuck you."

you let out a choked noise that had been intended to be a scoff,

“is that what this is about? are you jealous?” you look between your legs to him as his fingers move faster inside of you, your panties discarded elsewhere. the roughness of it was hot. his fingers crook upwards inside of you, making any legible thought damn near impossible. the way his fingers were moving fast and hard inside of you, pushing you towards the edge faster than you'd like to admit.

"maybe i would prefer him," you catch the look that passes over his face, you lean into his ear, teasing him, "bet he could fuck me like i need it." and just like that, you got what you wanted, his fingers thrusted rapidly into you, his thumb stimulating your clit.

“fuck, james!” you moan out.

“dont worry, i can’t fuck you like you need it, right?” he says, voice low, as his fingers keep on thrusting into you, his other hand is on your neck, holding it just hard enough to get you flustered.

“i was kidding! i s-swear” you let out in the midst of moans.

“i can’t understand you, princess. what’d you say?” he wants you to repeat it, god, you were fucked.

“i was kidding! no one can - shit! - do it to me like you can, please james” you beg, reaching your high, you can feel tears coming.

“please what?”

“please james, let me cum”

“ah, sweets” he coos, your fucked out expressions making him even harder, he rubs his thumb onto your cheek, “not yet” he pulls his fingers out and you whine at that, feeling empty.

“ass up, doll” he whispers, you immediately turn around, on shaking hands and knees. “not like that”, he hummed, his hand sliding to the center of your back, firmly pushing you down as your face pressed against the pillow. your shirt slipped down, letting him see you fully. he loved it when you wore lace. his hand runs over the curve of your ass, he could get used to the sight, he loved how responsive you were to his touch too.

as he positioned himself behind you, he undid his zipper and unbuttoned his jeans, his thick tip was pressed up against your hole, pushing your panties aside.

the teasing made your back arch in need but he wanted to make you work for it,

"say please, baby, remember your manners." you probably sounded pathetic, whimpering and whiny, you didnt care though, you needed him.

“please james, fuck me, i need you so bad, please” his hand gives your ass a light tap, signaling he’s going to do it.

“good girl” he murmured, pushing in slowly, your body rocking at the feeling, the stretch of him being in you. you moaned out, a very sweet sound to him.

he pushes into you, looking down and seeing how well you take him. you're whimpering and gasping, the hot and heavy press of his cock against your walls reducing you into a mess of incomprehensible words.

“princess, im only halfway in, you sure you can take it tonight?” he rubbed your shoulder, dipping down his head to kiss your neck. you nodded rapidly, already feeling so full, your hips grinded back against him. he thrusted in the rest of the way, you moaned out, feeling so full and trying to muffle it out with your pillow.

he lets out a groan that makes you wish you were facing him to see his face lost in pleasure. he moans,

"fucking hell, you feel so good my cock," the way your walls fluttered around him when he praised you made him go crazy. "can i move, doll?"

you hummed,

“yes please”, at that, he slowly pulled out, you moaned loudly as he slammed back into you. with your little moans and gaps he sets a rhythm.

ecstasy coursing through you, eyes rolling into the back of your head as he pounded into you, body bouncing on the bed with his thrusts. he placed a hand on your abdomen, needing to hold on to something, making you realize how deep he was hitting. he kept on shoving his dick harder and harder into you, pounding against you roughly. he kisses along the side of your neck, you can feel his bare chest pressing to your back, his breathing ragged in your ear, hips never even stalling,

“such a good girl, right? taking my cock for me, ‘feels so good, love” and you couldn’t do anything but agree in mindless, fucked out whimpers of ‘yes’ and ‘james’.

he pounds into you fast and rough, your cheek pressed against the mattress as you felt his cock wrecking you with each rough roll of his hips, filling you up easily. you nearly scream as the hand that was gripping your ass slipped under and, before you can process it, your eyes are rolling back again as he rolls your clit between deft fingers.

“fuck!” you moaned out, surprised. it was like he memorized every single thing you loved about having sex with him, the way he could find the right spots, his praise, his degradation. you did miss him.

the rolling of his fingers on your clit with the fast-paced thrusts made you gasp in pleasure, tightening around him as he brought you closer to your high. moaning in response to his praises, no tangible sentences able to form. your back arches subconsciously, a silent beg for more.

"james, i'm, fuck, m'gonna," you whine, unable to finish a sentence, too lost in pleasure, "g-gonna cum-"

your weak whimpers made you feel so vulnerable and he found it so. fucking. hot.

“yeah? you gonna cum on my cock like a good girl?” he teased you, pounding into you even faster. driving you to your climax crazy quick, words pushing you further. “go ahead doll, cum on me” he muttered.

your mouth dropped into loud calls of his name, you clenched around him and there was no doubts of the complaints you’d get, the begging growing louder. his thrusts don't stop, they do slow, letting you ride your high out for as long as possible.

once you finish, he flips you over onto your back. he throws your legs over his shoulders, going even deeper.

“wanna see your face when i cum, babe” he continued to thrust at a rapid pace, the snap of his hips wrecking you, as your nails dug into his back. from that position, the base of his cock brushed against your clit.

“cum in me, please” you whimpered as he took sight of you. how your heat flushed lips were parted into a sweet moan, your hair splayed out across the pillowcase, your flustered face screwed up in pleasure.

there wouldn’t be another day where he didnt think about how good you looked under him. the edge of the overstimulation had a familiar tightening in your gut. his hand palming your tit as he groaned out into your ear,

“cum for me again doll, c’mon, be a good girl for me” your back arches off of the bed, your head tipped back as you reach your second high. this one more powerful than the last.

at the feeling of you tensing around him for a second time, he lets out a low groan, the pace of his hips stuttering. your moans and begs from underneath him push him over the edge, burying himself deep inside of you as you gripped hard onto him.

"fuck y/n!" he finishes hard, rolling his hips up hard to meet yours. he feels dazed, he thinks its the hardest he's ever cum.

he pulled out gently, laying down next to you and putting himself back in his trousers.

“you good?” he asked, and you just hummed in response. james smiled, pulling you in.

“listen, gotta tell you something” he whispered, you quickly looked over at him.

“what? did something happen?” you ask, worried, he never really did that.

“yeah, i dont think im a friends with benefits guy.” he said, smiling awkwardly.

“oh” you sigh, confused.

“im more of a boyfriend guy, if yours doesn’t matter with stepping back from his position, after all, he is working in another company and i’d love to make some more business with you and-“ you slap him on the shoulder.

“shut up james.” you smile, rolling your eyes, you decide to play along. “thank you for your advice, mr. potter, he will be fired tomorrow morning, your work starts... now. your first task is to grab me that chinese food in the kitchen because god, im starving.” he gives you a quick peck as he gets up, god did he feel lucky.

maybe not being able to pull off the friends with benefits deal was a good thing after all.

[orion4ever]

Author's Note: I was inspired by a recent post of mine about Cliff's protective nature towards MC and how he reacts when Baxter and MC reunite and get back together. I believe Cove keeps Cliff updated on EVERYTHING!

This would take place after the events of the Baxter DLC, The timing is up to you!

Pairing: Baxter Ward x MC

Cliff Holden was currently unboxing some new shipments When he heard the store's front doorbell ring a few times.

He emerged from the backroom to see his son and his group of friends. He instantly had a huge grin on his face as he welcomed them.

"Hey, Bud." He greeted nonchalantly, earning a small 'Hey' from his son.

"Oh! Hello, Terry and Miranda! It's always nice seeing you two" he greeted warmly, earning himself an enthusiastic "Heeyyyyy!" from Terry and a small wave from Miranda.

"And of course, MC and-" he paused when he saw the new face standing next to MC with a sheepish smile. He looked familiar but he couldn't put a name to the face.

"Oh! Hey! It's always nice seeing a new face, I am Cliff" he greeted with a grin.

The 'stranger' smile grows a little. "Hello. We've already met before...I was staying in the condo next to yours five years ago..?" The black-haired man said. "Baxter Ward?" He added.

Cliff deflated for a minute. He had remembered, now that Baxter hiked his memory. Cove had updated Cliff on the entire series of events about Baxter and MC.

He was told how the eccentric monochromatic tourist had gotten together with his long-term neighbor and son's best friend.

He was also told about how the same eccentric monochromatic tourist had dumped MC at the end of the summer and vowed to never see them again.

Baxter had always been very neighborly and amiable towards Mr. Holden himself, always greeting him and giving tidbits about his plans for the day.

But...

He couldn't forget how heartbroken MC was over the breakup. It always seemed like they had some unheeded feelings that will most likely never be addressed or explained; leaving MC confused and sad over it all.

Like Noelani and Pamela’s first reaction to the reappearance of Baxter; His excitement melted in the California heat.

“Oh.” Cliff mumbled.

He then walked to stand behind the register took out a long box and continued to talk with everyone.

“So , What brings you back in town, Baxter?”

“Well.-“ Baxter was then promptly interrupted by the sound of a box opening and a metal clanking sound hitting the counter.

Cliff casually unboxed a box of fishing harpoons while staring right at Baxter.

“Well, we wanted to visit the shopping district again to relax.” Baxter finished , he had his usual grin but it looked a tiny bit wobbly.

“Uh-huh,” Cliff said, placing another fishing harpoon on the table casually again. “Ignore me. These are new shipments.” Cliff reiterated, with a slightly forced smile.

Not wanting to stay in this awkward and slightly threatening silence, MC speaks up.

“Mr. Holden , me and Baxter are back together; don’t be too hard on him” they said both in a jokey and genuine sense.

Cliff chuckled a little. “I won’t , don’t worry!” He smiled , shining the threatening harpoons.

Miranda giggled a little , either out of nervousness or whatever was going on. Terry being the social butterfly he is bounced right back.

“B-man invited everyone to lunch so we gotta head out soon!” He stated , giving Baxter a friendly pat on the shoulder.

“Yeah. We just wanted to stop by , Dad” Cove said with a smile. Cliff nodded to that. “I appreciate you for thinking about your old man, Cove.”

“Your not old , Mr.Holden. Your only like 49.”

“Pfft-, 49?!? MC. I promise ,I am not that old” he cackled lightheartedly. Before he started waving the group off. “You kids go on now, You don’t have to stay to keep me company.”

As they all began exiting , he stopped Baxter. “Uh , Baxter. A word?” He asked , a serious tone in his voice.

Baxter didn’t say anything but he did move to properly look at the older gentleman. He had a abased frown.

“I don’t want any funny business with you,” Cliff said, crossing his arms. “MC has been a massive support to both Cove and myself for a long time. It would be sad to see them be heartbroken again.” He continued, he wasn’t joking around.

Baxter Ward stood up straighter and said. “Mr. Holden. I assure you that this time, I am here to stay.” He said, putting a pale hand to his purple button-up.

“I understand your concern. I haven’t made a good impression by doing that years ago. I am sorry for that. I truly do care for MC and I want to be with them.”

He finished it off with a slight bow of his head.

Cliff unfolded his arms and gave Baxter’s shoulder a strong but not painful squeeze. “Good. I hope we can become good friends then.”

Cliff then let Baxter go to join the rest of the group with a small hopeful smile.

[blackbrd]

hiya! Would you be willing to write something with jj x female reader with something cnc/dubcon related (preferably with dom jj) but with a happy ending

suck them

one shot | criminal minds m!list | m!list

Fandom: criminal minds

Pairing: Jennifer Jareau x fem!reader

Genre: smut !

Warnings: 18+, dubcon, fingering, pussy eating

The BAU were walking back to the hotel they were staying at after a case and you offered to walk Jj back to her hotel room. She made some joke about you being her knight in shining armour as she passed Derek.

“Hey, babe. We should go out sometime.” You looked at her with a puzzled expression.

“We go out all the time.” Jj smiled a little too sweetly for your liking.

“Come on, you really don’t know what I mean?” Jj’s hand trailed your torso, down to your thigh. She squeezed you through your black pants, her nails slightly biting into your skin underneath.

You blushed at the attention, the light sting of Jj’s nails making you gasp.

You let out a light laugh, waving off the small comment.

“Oh, I’m not joking,” Jj took the five steps to put herself directly in your path.

“I’m horny with all this pent up energy. Don’t you feel it, too?” She nipped at the space between your lips. You did feel it, but it wasn’t as intense for you. It was a slow building warmth, but it also sent a shiver down your spine, the way Jj was looking at you.

Why did you feel like prey? Why was your heart hammering out a thrilled, but anxious rhythm for this Agent you weren’t even sure about three weeks ago? Jj slowly moved her hands to rid you of your jacket. As the garment hit the floor, Jj took the opportunity to openly check out your figure.

“Wow baby, you’re hot. Like, really hot.” You backed away as Jj attempted to invade your space. You found yourself backing into the doorway of Jj’s hotel bedroom. You couldn’t stop your track. Not with Jj giving you no time or space to think as she kept backing up until…

The back of your knees hit the bed and you fell on your back. Jj smiled wickedly down at you.

“I think you wanted me to catch you,” Jj sprung on you, caging you on top of the bed.

“I’ve been thinking about this since I saw you.” You swallowed. You didn’t know why you were reacting like this.

“I’m not into girls…” You spoke the thought aloud.

“Are you sure? You ever been with a girl, honey?” Your hair went flying as you shook your head vigorously no.

“Then how do you know you don’t like them?” Your breath caught in a silent gasp. Jj stuck her tongue out, starting at your wrist, licking a straight line all the way up your body, pausing to taste your collar bone, tracing the vein in your neck, until she finally zeroed in on a spot just under your right ear.

You mewled, confused by the actions of your body. Jj nibbled for just a minute before pulling back, her bright blue eyes capturing yours in a trance.

“What do you say, baby? Wanna get down and dirty with me?” The noise you made in response could only be described as mangled.

You stare at each other for no more than ten seconds when you collided in a desperate kiss. The pull between you couldn’t be ignored any longer. You didn’t know which of you leaned in first. All you knew is that yes, you did want Jj to fuck you. You weren’t sure exactly how it would work or if you’d like it, but your body and mind didn’t care in the moment.

Jj’s tongue forced its way into your mouth, dominating yours. It felt good to give up control to the blonde.

Ever since you became an agent, all you had were responsibilities. You were expected to take charge in every situation, and here was Jj, willing to take it all from you.

You relaxed, sinking into the mattress as Jj kept up her assault with her tongue. Once you were pliant, Jj peeled your pants off and tore your panties until she could enter one finger inside you.

Your hips bucked causing Jj’s digit to sink in a few centimeters. It wasn’t enough. You didn’t want to be teased. The need to be touched was growing.

Jj dropped to her knees on the ground in front of the bed. She grabbed on to your thighs, sliding one hand to the curve of your ass.

Jj gave you the sluttiest, most mischievous look she could and then, not so gently, began to ram her tongue into your pussy. Once you were soaked and properly begging, Jj moved her mouth to your clit.

She licked short, fast strokes until your clit was stiff, standing out against your lips, before sucking it into her mouth and pounding your pussy with two fingers, hooking one of them to find that sweet spot. The second Jj put pressure on your g-spot, you came hard. You rocked your hips until you came down and Jj casually removed her fingers.

She offered the fingers to you, placing them to barely graze your bottom lip. You automatically opened your mouth in post orgasm shock.

Jj slid her fingers down to the last knuckle and commanded, “suck them.”

In a trance, you complied, mentally noting that your taste, while not exactly pleasant, wasn’t that bad either.

[ar4chn333]

“One More Night”

Michael Bluth x fem reader

Smut ahead!!

Fem reader, p in v, explicit consent (very seggsy), soft dominant Michael

Probably my best work, ngl

…

“Don’t stay up talking too late, guys! Good night!” You chirp as you give George Michael and Maeby a soft smile before turning off their bedroom light and shutting the door. Letting out a sigh of relief, you find your shoulders dropping at the thought of finally being able to return to your own house. Though you loved spending time with George Michael and Maeby, you were ready to sink into the warmth of your covers. Michael had left on a business trip five days ago and needed someone to care for George Michael while he was gone. God knows he couldn’t rely on any of his siblings to do so. You offered to look after Maeby too, though she was plenty used to being without a guardian. Your family was quite close to the Bluths, having designed cabinets for their homes for over twenty years.

Though you’d met Lucille and George plenty of times during their business meetings with your parents as a child, you’d never seen Michael until a couple of months ago. God, was he gorgeous. Overcome with butterflies, you’d only spoken a few words to him in your first meeting and felt a twinge of guilt for fawning over a man so many years your senior. But the way he smiled at you sent waves of tingliness through your chest, words oftentimes failing to form at the sight of his devastatingly beautiful blue eyes. The tension between you could practically be cut with a butter knife as you two saw each other more, but neither was bold enough to make a move. Naturally, when he called you in need of a last-minute babysitter, you were more than happy to help him.

…

10:30 pm? Michael was supposed to be home by now to relieve you of babysitting duties. Looking over at your phone, you see a text from Michael.

“Got off the flight a tad later than expected, will be home around 11:00.”

“No worries!” you reply.

Drained from the day, you flop on the couch in the living room, quickly drifting off to sleep. Cuddled up with a blanket, your hair splays delicately along the pillow. Resting dreamlessly, you await Michael patiently. Suddenly, you jolt sharply at the sensation of Michael’s hand on your shoulder, waking you. Inhaling quickly, you look up at him, surprised for a moment, but your face quickly softens. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” he says sympathetically, carefully removing his hand from your shoulder. You wish it had stayed. “I’m so sorry I’m late—my flight was delayed,” he says. “No worries! I was practically passed out, so I barely noticed,” you reply mid-yawn. “I better get going if I’m going to make it home before I pass out again. George Michael, Maeby, and I had a ton of fun.” you chirp.

He pauses, mouth opening as if to form a sentence. He hesitates, but eventually his words come spilling out. “Why don’t you sleep here tonight? It's dangerous to dive tired. You can use my room like you have been, so you don’t have to move your stuff, and I’ll crash out in the living room.” You lived around thirty minutes away and were certainly not looking forward to the drive. Admittedly, you were a bit giddy about spending more time with Michael, even if it meant simply waking up and seeing him and the kids briefly before you left. “That’ll probably be a good idea, I’m absolutely exhausted,” you reply groggily. “I can imagine–they’re a handful,” he sighs knowingly.

You walk up the stairs to Michael’s room, where you’d left your things from sleeping there while babysitting, and begin to change into your sleeping clothes. Your body tingles with adrenaline from the conversation you had not one minute ago, suddenly awake. You wonder if he feels the same. Sitting on the bed, you promise yourself you’ll confess your feelings in the morning–or at least hint at them. Just then, a knock comes at the door.

“Hey! So sorry, I just need to get something from my dresser. Are you decent?” He calls through the door.

“Oh! Yes! Come on in!” you say instinctively. Though perhaps you should have covered up first as your bottoms were quite short, and the shape of your nipples showed through your cami in plain view as you sat upright on the bed.

Walking in, you caught his eye, provoking a split-second wide-eyed look before he respectfully turned away and went about fishing clothes out of his dresser. “Did George Michael and Maeby behave okay?”

“They were wonderful! I think I finally got Maeby to like me! She only rolled her eyes at me thrice.” you chuckle.

“That’s got to be some kind of record,” he adds, smiling toward you, eyes shining in the warm yellow light of his bedroom.

His gaze lingers, the tension growing thicker before he somewhat abruptly turns away and says, “Good night! See you in the morning!”

“Michael…” you call out softly, his hand on the bedroom doorknob. Lifting yourself off from the seat of your bed, your body rages with adrenaline. His eyes widen as you walk slowly toward him. You search for something–anything to indicate he wanted you as much as you wanted him. You reach out an arm to touch his shoulder. “Good nigh–” you begin, but before you make contact, he lunges towards you, one arm wrapping around your torso, the other on your cheek, pulling you against his hungry lips. The feeling of his warmth next to you is enough to make you melt, his taste so delicious you feel like you’d been a woman starved. He pulls back briefly to make eye contact, his face flushed. Smiling, you pull him into another kiss as he locks the door to the room. His touches grow deeper and heavier, and his breaths against your mouth ring distinctly in the tone of his voice, making you grow wetter by the second. His hands make their way about your waist, caressing and pulling you flush against him. They wander down to your ass, and you instinctively jump onto his hips, arms wrapping around his neck, your lips never losing contact for a moment. Sensing the ground moving beneath you, you soon feel the pressure of the bedroom wall on your back. Michael presses his hips closer to yours, and you let out a desperate moan, hand tightening its grip on his hair.

Michael feels the heat radiating from between your legs, your entire torso burning with want for him. Your whimpering sounds testify to your desperate need for him, making him feel like an animal, subtle growls escaping his lips as his tongue meets yours. Pulling back just briefly, “Do you want this?” he asks. You tighten your grip on his hair, pulling his ear toward your mouth with a firm but gentle force. “I want you to fuck me, Michael,” you coo, inhibition having left your body long ago. He didn’t need to be told twice. He spins around, now facing the bed, and you fall back onto it as he climbs on top of you. Lifting your shirt off your head, he grips your breast while leaving sloppy kisses on your neck and collarbone, moaning at the taste of your skin. Head trailing down, his mouth makes contact with your nipple, causing you to arch your back, pressing your chest closer to him. The texture of his soft lips and rough stubble send chills down your torso. Writhing beneath him, you feel his cock rock-hard beneath his pants. “I want you inside of me,” you whisper impatiently.

Sliding a hand to your shorts, he places a hand over your lower stomach, just above your underwear, savoring your lewd expressions, brows furrowed, mouth agape. Teasing you, his fingers slide along the upper hem of your panties, watching intently as you yearn for him to touch you. Your hand trails down to push his closer to your heat, but he catches your wrist mid-travel and, with the same hand, grasps your other wrist, pinning them singlehandedly over your head. An impish look spreads across his face as you struggle against him, unable to find your release, its potential energy building by the second. “Be patient, baby, I’m gonna savor you.” Biting your lip, your eyes lock, and his hand slowly slides beneath your underwear, where he slides a finger through your folds, eliciting a breathy moan. With your arms still hopelessly pinned, he begins to circle your clit, your hips bucking involuntarily at the sensation. Looking down at his hand, you see the muscles in his forearm moving, overlaid by his watch glittering in the light as he continues to pleasure you.

You groan as he takes his hands off of you to stand and undo his belt, your legs spread open for him, palms lining the inside of your thighs, which begin to tremble slightly in anticipation. He practically rips off his shirt, hair flying messily over his forehead as his belt clinks on the floor. He looks down at you–you’re doe-eyed, fully exposed, and ready for him to fuck you. Hard. Freeing his throbbing cock, he slides his torso between your legs, placing one atop his shoulder. “God, he’s fucking perfect,” you think to yourself. He slides the tip of his member up and down your folds, a shuddering breath escaping his lips. You gasp in unison as he presses his tip into you, sliding himself forward. He’s sizeable, to say the least, eliciting a whimper from you as you adjust to him. “Fuck, Michael,” you wince in a tone of half pleasure, half pain as he fills you up. “Shh, baby, you’ll wake the kids,” he coos, putting a firm finger to your lips. Before he finishes the sentence, his hips begin to rock against yours, cock sliding against your walls. You don’t want to wake them, but you can’t help the sounds you make as he thrusts inside of you, each movement building the knot of pleasure in your stomach. You whimper pathetically and uncontrollably as he fucks you. His fingers trail along your neck and to your jaw, index and pointer making their way into your mouth, your lips wrapping around them. Sucking gently, your moans are reduced to high-pitched hums, making way for you to hear more of his delicious sounds. “You feel so good, y/n,” he groans in a sultry voice, his eyes locking with yours.

Removing his hand from your mouth, he places it beside you to leverage his increasingly powerful thrusts. “Oh, Michael!” Moans escape from your lips in rapid succession as he pounds your throbbing pussy, hips crashing into yours. “Good girl, take it.” Hand traveling to the headboard to keep you in place, your body begins to shake uncontrollably around his cock. Eyes rolling back, waves of hot electricity force their way through your body, the strings comprising the knot in your stomach pull like a ripcord against it, unraveling fully. Yelps escaping from your mouth, you grasp desperately at Michael's back, nails clawing at his skin as he fucks you through your orgasm. He follows shortly behind, moaning into your open mouth as he comes inside of you.

In the afterglow of your releases, Michael lays down beside you, holding your body close to his. His breathing rings warmly in your ears. “I’m glad you stayed for one more night,” he whispers. “Me too,” you reply, gazing into his perfect eyes. Smiling, he coos in your ear, “I’d love for you to stay for more–and days, of course.” Your face lights up, beaming at his suggestion. “I would love that too. Though I might need some help getting to the bathroom. I get the feeling I won’t be able to walk if I try to stand,” you chuckle.

💕I hope y’all liked it!! Author’s note in comments💕

[theprenderelliepalace]

College AU

Damon x reader

Summary: y/n always had a thing for bad boys in leather jackets. Too bad she's a day late and a dollar short. When the infamous Damon Salvatore rolls up to her literature class, with his stupid smirk and all-black wardrobe, she should be done for, but y/n's heart was broken a long time ago. So what're two wild cards to do with two broken hearts on a college campus?

Word count: 1.4k

Warnings: mentions of alcohol, bad break-ups, Katherine (our favorite baddie), wasted coffee, fluff (implied smut) and school stress

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"Please leave." I paused. "You look like you're dressed for a funeral and it's depressing me." I was walking across campus to my next class, the incarnation of trouble and arrogant bad boy, Damon Salvatore, hot on my heels.

"Oh come on! I bought you coffee. Doesn't that score me some brownie points?" He caught up to me. His strides were long and languid, like he was having no trouble at all harrasing me in broad daylight while I was breathless and almost sprinting to get away from him.

I stopped and turned on my heel to face him. He was taller than me, alarmingly so. His hair was swept against his forehead in that heart-throbbing, 'Damon way', that made my knees weak. "Technically, you didn't make me brownies- he gave me a look, "and yes, that is what it should mean. So no. You bought me shitty coffee, asked me out on a date I would rather drink toilet water than go on AND you have the nerve to follow me around like a lost puppy!" He shook his head with a silent smile that made him look so gorgeous I almost passed put, then and there.

I cleared my throat. I threw the cup that had been shoved unceremoniously into my hand five minutes ago, across the campus courtyard. It hit the side of an unassuming trash can with a dull thud. "Go fetch." I shook my shoulders as if to shake my resolve over me like a veil of iron. "Or chase your tail or something. But leave me out of it." He stepped in front of me, his shoulders were set and his jaw was hard, yet there was a mischievous twinkle in his eye that told me trouble was near...

"You have a big mouth for something so little. Makes a guy want to knock you off your high horse." He leaned in, his lips inches from my ear. His breath was warm, a comfort against the icy November gloom. I shook my head and started to shove past him, he caught my wrist and pulled me into his chest. "So you can ride something else-"

My face flushed the deepest shade of red I could imagine." ALRIGHT. Thank you Salvatore, for that lovely mental picture! I'm going to pretend you don't exist now!" I rushed to the other side of the courtyard. My heart was beating at a million miles an hour as I turned my coat collar against the wind and to hide my face from the rest of the world (I hoped my coat would just eat me alive then and there). All the while that I ran, I could hear his unbridled laughter echoing across campus. It followed me like a shadow and clung to my very heart. It was a sound that made me want to laugh too, but I couldn't.

I wasn't about to let my heart break over another mistake like Damon Salvatore. Right?

----------------------------------------------------

I was alone in my dorm when it started to rain. The sound was unnatural this late into the year, but welcoming. It made me forget about my leather-clad stalker and my 400 page paper due next week. It made me forget about home and work and stress.

It made me remember the cheap whiskey hidden under a loose floorboard under my roommates bed.

I decided I would head up to the roof. It was quiet enough. I just wanted to relax. Let loose and forget about the world for a while, let all my troubles wash down with the pitter-patter of the rain. I opened the door and what was the first thing I saw?

"Oh, fuck you." He turned. This excruciatingly jerkish grin plastered on his face. His hair was slicked back and damp with the rain. His leather jacket hung loosely over his sweatshirt, it drew my eyes down to his jeans. The way they hugged his- "Aren't stalkers supposed to do recon too? Like, don't they sit FAR, far away and take stupid pictures for their creepy alters?"

He ignored me. He walked over and stood under the awning in front of me. "See something you like?" His voice was low, almost hungry in its desire. Suddenly the rain didn't make me feel cold anymore. I couldn't speak, I couldn't move. He smiled at me, grabbing for the bottle that i hadn't realised was still in my hands. He scrutinized the brand. "Remind me to teach you to have better taste." He tutted.

He walked along the side of the building, sitting on the bench at the edge of the awning. I stared at him. I was so out of it at this point, I might as well go out with a bang and a shot of whiskey.

I sat next to him, falling into place like I was supposed to be there. "Why do you like me Damon?" I scoffed. "Do you even like me, or do you just have a thing for girls who say no? If so, get a life." He snickered and took a swig from the bottle. I reached out for it and took another.

"You are a lot more like me than you want to admit." I must be drunk already, because I gave the bottle back to him and glanced up. He had this sad whisper of a smile dancing across his lips. A torment in his eyes that I should've known all too well.

"How so?" I asked. I shivered with the gust of wind that seemed to bring the first real silence that I had ever experienced with Damon.

"You don't want to admit you have a heart. It's funny because none of us ever do. We just assume that we survive on words and thoughts, it's always a matter of the heart and the head..." He took another swig. "No one ever tells you how to survive when both are broken."

"You say that like you've never heard of duct tape before." He laughed as I drank. I slumped down against the bench, my feet dangled out in front of me and I watched the rain drops splash against my boots. "What was her name?"

It was a long shot, a drunken guess that I never expected him to answer. "Katherine. She, was something..." Suddenly, this raging pyscho that I thought I knew as mean and brutish was vulnerable. It felt like he was almost human.

"I had someone too. I don't think my heart can take another fuck-up. It's not like my head's doing any better." I ran my hand through my hair. I looked up at him, he was smirking at me. That charming smile that I had come to know to mean trouble had a different meaning behind it now. Almost like he knew a secret.

"Is that why you threw my coffee and missed the trash?"

"Uh, no. You have terrible taste in coffee." He shrugged. "Plus, I don't have a very good throwing arm." We looked at each for a moment before we burst out in a fit of giggles that was drowned out by the roar of thunder.

We talked until the bottle was empty. We kissed until the rain stopped and the wind picked up. It howled at ripped at our clothes. I pried myself out of his iron grip, my lips were swolen just like his were. Except he wore that stupid smirk on his stupid face.

"I hate that." I pointed to his lips with my index finger, he ran his tongue down the digit, "Hey!",and brought my palm up to his mouth. He kissed the center so tenderly but his eyes were dead serious. It made my stomach clench. A gust of wind shoved me forward and I landed against his chest. He caught me with ease and steadied me.

Damon winked as he picked me up bridal style and carried me towards the exit. "Hey Mr Bad-boy, don't buy me coffee." He rolled his eyes at me.

I opened the door for him and then wrapped my arms around his neck as it swung closed behind us. "Buy me dinner." I smiled.

"Yes Ma'am." He grinned.

I kissed him, he shoved me against the wall. We never got dinner, but he did make me pancakes the next morning.

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First ever one-shot man! Sorry it's fluffy but dang if I don't like me some banter

REQUESTS OPEN

Comment and reblog what you think. It would make lil' old me very happy :)

Masterlist

[callalillywrites]

Steve's Choice

I've been listening to a bunch of music (old and new) while working on various projects. A few songs have struck inspirational chords and are bringing about a few different upcoming stories.

Find Version 2 of this song here.

Here is the first story based on this song:

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader (can be read as gender neutral)

Word Count: 695

Summary: The time heist had been successful. Thanos was destroyed. It was time to put the Stones back where they belonged. Steve volunteered, and you knew it would be the last time you saw him.

Warnings: Bittersweet ending, angst, amicable breakup

A/N: It’s proofread but all mistakes are my own.

I do not give permission for my work to be copied or posted on other sites or fed into an AI machine.

*****

Steve was leaving.

You could feel it in your bones.

He stood near the platform Bruce had quickly assembled after Tony’s funeral. The Stones packed neatly and carefully in the briefcase Steve held. He’d just hugged Bucky. An inner joke shared between them.

Then, Steve stepped back, swiveling on his heels.

The distance between you had never felt longer though he covered it in a few steps.

A watery smile graced your features as you looked upon the man you loved for the last time.

“Hey, I’ll be back soon,” Steve said, the promise falling flat. His gaze never quite reached yours as he said the words. It confirmed the truth you’d known was a long time in coming.

You shook your head. “No, you won’t, and it’s okay, Steve.”

“But –”

“Steve, I love you. I think I’ve loved you since we met in New York eleven years ago,” you paused to gather yourself and retain what composure you had left, “but I’m not where you belong. I never was.”

“Angel, I…” Steve let the words die.

You could tell he wanted to lie to you. To tell you everything you wanted to hear.

A week ago, you would’ve wanted to hear the lies. You would’ve wanted to cling to him and believe them. But it wasn’t meant to be. It never was. His heart has and will always belong to Peggy Carter.

Before he could try and regroup, you pressed a hand to his mouth. “Please, I don’t want or need you to lie to me, Steve. This isn’t your fault, and I don’t need you to make this better. You didn’t do anything wrong. I won’t have you thinking you have.”

This time, you paused to swallow the emotion clogging your throat. It took you another minute to collect yourself and give him a genuine smile.

“Go and get your girl, Cap. She’s waiting for you. I just know it.”

You rose on your tiptoes one last time. With a soft kiss to his cheek, you whispered, “Be happy, Steve. You deserve everything this world has ever offered and taken from you. You’ve settled and compromised since you came out of the ice. It’s time for you to be a little bit selfish, even if that means you’re not mine.”

Steve stared at you for several moments, his eyes growing misty at your words.

Before you could step back, he’d set the briefcase down and grabbed you. His arms wrapped tightly around you while his cheek nuzzled against yours.

He didn’t say anything at first, but he finally whispered, “I really hope you find your one, Angel. You are not someone’s compromise or someone who should be settled for. I do love you, and I always will.”

A single tear streaked down your cheek. “I know. Maybe saying goodbye won’t be a bad thing. At least that’s what I’m hoping.”

His arms tightened around you, impossibly tight, then he slowly released you.

When he picked up the briefcase again, he tapped your chin like he was prone to do all the years you’ve known him. In the same soft voice, he said, “Don’t hate me too much, please.”

“I could never hate you, Steve. No matter how hard I might try to.”

With that, he gave a final smile, then turned toward the platform and suited. It was time to return the stones to their rightful places along the timeline. He had some branches to nip before they took hold and created issues within the universe.

In a blink, he was gone.

Five seconds, Bruce had said.

Those seconds came and went without Steve’s return.

Then again, you knew they would.

He’d gone back to Peggy. Just like you knew he would.

Bruce and Sam argued on how to get him back and what to do with whatever had gone wrong.

Turning to Bucky, you nodded towards your car and asked, “Want a lift? I think there’s a bar in town, and I know I could use a drink.”

Bucky, forever a friend, fell into step beside you. After a moment, he asked, “You okay?”

You spared a glance at the platform, then met his gaze. “I will be.”

*****

Main Masterlist / Song Fic Masterlist

[written-in-the-clouds]

Can I request platonic Jonathan Sims x reader who is Gertrude's grandchild? The reader is essentially working as a spy and knows that Elias is bad but dosen't say anything to not blow their cover. Gertrude has had the reader working in the archives as one of Jon's assistants, Gertrude had off handedly mentioned she had a grandchild but no one ever knew who it was, but then Jon end up finding out.

Done! Hope you enjoy! <3

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“Hey, [Name]? Can we talk for a minute?”

“Of course,” you agreed, following Jon into his office. “What is it?”

Jon sat down at his desk and pressed play on a tape recorder. The voice that came out of it was unfortunately familiar.

“Next week, my grandchild is returning from their research trip… if all goes well, they will have some interesting results. I do hope they will stay and help my successor, whoever they may be. They—” Gertrude cut herself off, and you could hear her stand up. Jon clicked the tape off.

“Okay,” you said cautiously, “so should I look for them? Do you have anything else to go off of?” If he sent you to investigate yourself, you were fairly confident in your ability to keep the appearance of a wild goose chase.

“No,” Jon replied. “I already know who they are.”

He pushed a printed-out photo across his desk, and you winced once you saw it. A social media profile of you, from a few years ago, but still clearly yours. [Name] Robinson. You force a smile. “Come on, Jon, that seems a bit stalker-ish. I haven’t used that account for years.” His paranoia is starting to concern you. Though he was right in this case, he would have had to dig for this profile. You should have deleted it, really, but it was too late for that now. You were also fairly sure that Martin had mentioned Jon had actually stalked Tim to his home. Depending on how he accuses you, you should—

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he demanded. “You know what’s going on here, don’t you?”

You hesitated for a moment, then reprimand yourself. Wait too long, and he’ll get more suspicious. “I’m not here to help you. I have another job.” A bit harsh, maybe, but that’s how you were raised. You may be friendly with Jon, but the job takes priority. Gertrude told you to watch Elias when she was gone, and while Elias may know that’s what you’re doing, he hadn’t fired you yet. Keeping an eye on an Eye.

And, really, if you were fired, all the better.

Jon looked upset. “I know our introduction wasn’t the best, maybe, but I thought we were friends. I want— need to know what’s going on. If you know anything about Gertrude’s murder—”

“Ah, that’s what this is about,” you interrupted, rising from your seat. “Your paranoia of being assassinated. Honestly, Jon, your stalking of your employees isn’t doing you any favours. Well, I suppose it makes you a better candidate for him. You don’t have to worry about being killed when you keep pulling this.”

You knew Elias had killed Gertrude. You knew that the more Jon attached himself to the Eye, the more he continued to dutifully work for Elias, the more useful he was. You should have interfered earlier. Maybe this would be a wake-up call for him.

—

It only takes a week of you and Jon awkwardly avoiding each other for Martin to start preparing tea and Tim asking what happened this time. Somehow, you both end up in the break room alone. You give it about an sixty-five percent chance that this was planned, and a seventy-eight percent chance that Tim is eavesdropping.

You broke the silence first. “I apologize for blowing up like that,” you started, “but your paranoia is becoming a problem for all of us.”

“I hardly think finding an old social media profile indicates paranoia.”

“Sure, but you stalking Tim home is.”

Jon paused for a moment, then said, “I suppose that is true.” He sighed. “You are right, I suppose. Though, what ‘job’ were you talking about?”

You shrugged. “Can’t tell you that one. Call it a side gig.” It’s one thing for Elias to know what you’re doing and turning a blind eye, and another to admit it outright.

“Alright.” Jon sighed. “I apologize for… sneaking around.” He raised his voice slightly: “To you eavesdroppers as well.”

Tim slammed open the door and strode in. “Excellent, now we can go back to dealing with our regular spooky bullshit.” Martin followed in behind him, and Sasha not long after that.

Speaking of Sasha. Something is off about her. You can feel it, a vague sense of something wrong. You haven’t been able to confront her yet. Maybe that’ll be next on your list.

“You know,” you say, “now that you all know I’m Gertrude’s grandchild… There are some things I should explain to you all.”

They would be more successful if they knew what the Fears were, too.

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